I'm in Texas

I flew down to Texas a couple of days ago to visit my family for the holidays. It was great to get away and leave all the work-crap behind. Believe me.

I got to O'Hare in plenty of time but forgot about the new regulations concerning what one can bring on the airplane. The security guy took my hair spray and toothpaste from me and I had just bought a new, expensive tube of Sensodyne toothpast just before getting on the train for the airport. Oh well. At least I hadn't packed my new container of Halston cologne because that would have been disasterous. I told the security guy that he could have my hair spray but my mom will comment on my slovenly hair. It's in God's hands now.

It was a wonderful flight. No one was sitting next to me and I got my favorite seat on the airplane; the one in the emergency exit next to the window. No one spoke to me and I was able to iPod the whole way, listen to Palestrina and watch the world go by.

I arrived in Austin and got a rental car zippy-fast. In fifteen minutes, I was headed south for the two-hour drive to my parent's house.

You know, the longer I'm away from Texas, the more "Texan" things I notice. As I passed through the first rural town (Lockhart, Texas), I couldn't help but notice: "Gosh, there are a lot of pick-up trucks in Texas!" There really are. Big, huge pick-up trucks. These folks must have lots of stuff to haul around even thought none of them had anything in the pick-up portions of their pick-up trucks.

There are also lots of huge barbecue establishments, all claiming to be the best and the oldest. I will admit to eating some pretty amazing barbecue around these parts but I don't know why a town of six thousand people requires seven huge barbecue places.

The Dairy Queen in Lockhart had "Frito pie" on sale. I'd forgotten about Frito pies at the Dairy Queen.

You can't get anymore Texan than that.

I arrived at my folks house in time for dinner so we went to the local Mexican restaurant in town. It really has amazing food and huge portions. At a table next to us, a high school lad was tossing a football in the air while at the table. I mentioned it to my dad and he laughed and said, "Well, you never know. . . "

Amazing. A football at a restaurant dinner table.

You can't get anymore Texan than that.