pWdumaNjA-6CEEBhRoD5euxNETs When All This Actual Life Played Out: Part 2: A semi-coherent account from the passenger seat

19 August 2015

Part 2: A semi-coherent account from the passenger seat


I-35
Somewhere between Austin and Dallas, Texas
17 May 2015

I know. At this point, you're saying Part 2 of what?

(Hint: Part 1 is here. And just read May, too. Some of it, anyway.)

So, there was Austin, and there were (ahem) things, and there was a concert, and there was getting lost after the concert (this is a post-concert tradition), and there was eventually breakfast at the Magnolia Café, and a hotel, possibly some sleep, and then the trek to Dallas.

And this is where I get hung up.

Because between Austin and Dallas is Waco. And May 17 is the day a bunch of people got shot in a Waco strip mall, and D. and I drove right past it, there is the helicopter, there are the bazillion police cars and there is law enforcement personnel staring down the berm. We'd seen all the motorcycle clubs riding up the road, but we didn't put the two together until we got to Dallas and found out what happened. It took a bit of the wind out of my sails.

There, done.

So, there was Dallas, and there was a concert. And three songs in, I was dancing and in my happy place when my right elbow made contact with the middle of the band photographer I didn't know was standing next to me. And it wasn't like he was just a photographer. He was a former MLB pitcher who was just inducted into the Hall of Fame. So I was a little embarrassed.

(As in, American-Airlines-Center-floor-please-open-and-swallow-me-now embarrassed.)

But I got over it (mostly), and I didn't learn my lesson (eg, didn't miraculously discover the virtues of standing still), but the photographer did and stayed away from me. Then right about "Natural Science," when I was very happy, I moved and felt my spine unzip. And I waited to drop to the floor. But I didn't. So I went back to being enthusiastic.

We go out in the world and take our chances.

When the show ended, D. and I zipped back to the hotel, grabbed our stuff, and hopped in the car. Well, we had to wait for the car, and there were crazy people and there was chaos and stuff in the hotel got broken, and this was all rather much after Waco. Finally, the car arrived, it was midnight-ish, and we started the drive back to San Antonio.

We got lost.

Because that is how we roll.

And D. reminded me of something I'd promised in an email:

I was planning to drive back to San Antonio with you on Monday so I can bake you a cake on Tuesday. I can keep you awake by singing loudly for two hours. Unless, of course, you don't want me. That's okay too.

Of course, that was before I realized how big Texas is. Holy shit, is Texas big!

So, I sang for about 5 hours. It rained. I sang. The Waco strip mall still had crime tape and cop cars surrounding it. I sang. D., bless her, drove. I sang. We stopped at Buc-ees. Holy shit, is Buc-ees big! And awesomely empty at 3 am!

D. drove. I sang.

Because that is how we roll.

Tech stuff: Taken with my iPhone6 . Poor D. She is the most awesome friend. And she did listen to me caterwaul for hours. Hell, she's been listening to me caterwaul for years. But I kept my part of the bargain: she stayed awake. And wouldn't you know: still two shows to go in this story.

For the feed reader folk (because you don't see this on the blog sidebar): Talk to me: OutOfTh3Kitchen at gmail dot com.

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