Entry 179 - Big Trip Log Part 3: Arrival and Acclimatization

Big Trip Log Part 3: Arrival and Acclimatization

Well, I made it. I’ve actually been here since last Monday, but life intrudes. Lessee here: I could regale you with stories about my stint in the DFW metro with my brother, or perhaps I can give you a little bit of the flavor of San Antonio I’ve indulged in so far, or perhaps I can talk about how ruthlessly efficient the Texas Department of Public Safety is… Or, wait a sec… maybe I could use paragraphs and subheadin’s to do all three! Gawsh. What a novel idea.

Living La Vida Borracho

I love my brother. We don’t get to see each other often, as he has for the past 15 years or so maintained a significant geographic separation from me. Not that he’s done so on purpose, mind you – life often rends perfectly good relationships asunder – but for us, it only means that when we do get together, it is an occasion to get completely shithammered and laugh about stuff only he and I ever laugh about.

Oh, and engage in often risky but always entertaining behavior. (see fig. 1)

Thus I am here to explain about how we had a good ol’ time out in his neck of the woods (“Unincorporated Ellis County” to be exact) where few laws apply that cannot be enforced with a polite wave, or when push comes to shove, a shotgun blast or two. Kidding of course. He lives in a perfectly genteel suburban Dallas neighborhood in an awesome house with a nice big yard and plenty of decent neighbors. Anyway… We spent a good deal of time buying beer – I think the tally at the end of my stay was one (1) case of Miller Lite, one (1) case of Dos Equis, one (1) 12pk of Tecate, and one (1) half-keg of Michelob (see fig. 2).

We did some yard work in order to feel like we accomplished something, and we then proceeded to drink a lot. And laughed. I got a cramp in my abs so bad that I had to walk around with my hands over my head and my back arched backwards like a rebo for 15 minutes. Good times.

We said our goodbyes, knowing that for once we'll be living within a decent drive of eachother. After almost a week on the road and a few days off to chill and hang, I had to drive the ~275 miles from Dallas to San Antonio. I drove straight through Austin, too... even though I promised to stop and see a friend there. I’m probably gonna make it up to Austin sometime this weekend, If I can… even after a week or so, I’m still as road weary as it gets.

Wherein I Ask Around for Good Mexican Food and End Up in South East San Antonio

So, two people I’ve met so far have invited me out to dinner at a place called Don Pedro – apparently this is the go-to joint for sabor autentico – and it was good food, but the atmosphere was the best part. Being the big white guy in a room full of Tejano fans is fun in an odd sort of way… Like being a guest on the set of one of those Univision telenovelas where the big breasted and drop-dead gorgeous latina is fighting with an evil mother-in-law over who has the better relleno recipe or who shot su papa to usurp some land in Baja he was going to deed to his only son… so sitting at the bar waiting for a table like we did was just fine for me. Though I did have the “I’m a total gringo!” experience with the bartender when I smugly said “¡Muchacho! Dos cervezas y una margarita con su tequila mejor, por favor!” To which he replied in a fairly deep Texas drawl “Fine. Y’all want some pretzels, too?” But mostly I had fun marveling at the parade of beautiful if overkempt (word?) women at that place. I’ll be going back eh-chortly.

Taquerias: There are thousands of them, it seems. Taco Expresso, Taqueria Jalisco, El Nayarit and Rocky’s are the four I have tried as of this posting; happy to report that I have not had any unexpected gastric distress, and of the four, Jalisco es lo mejor. With extra jalapeños, por supuesto.

Driving around with Maryland plates had me a little worried – my brother had said that 5-0 makes a point to look for hippy mules like me – but even with a few cervezas under my belt, i made it home safely. One night I was driving home from somewhere and I stopped at a red light, because I obey most traffic laws* when I heard this crazy swarmy chirping noise coming from a group of mature Mesquite trees beside the road. “Wow” I thought to myself, “Those birds are up late, they must be having a block party or summit.” The next day I relayed this tit-bit to a coworker, to which he replied “Oh nah man, those are the bats.” Yes, it seems that the largest swarm of Mexican free-tailed bats in North America (or any sort of bat, really) just happens to be in this city, at this time, to mate and poop on stuff. Cool.

TDPS: Ruthlessly Efficient in Servin’ Y’alls Innerest

So yeah, the Texas DPS is ruthless. It cost me $177 to get my truck inspected and registered here. They give you these two big-assed stickers – something I’m not used to at all – and the Texas plates with the Space Shuttle (cool I guess), so now the only way I could possibly raise the suspicion of local law enforcement is by driving like a rational human being. Service roads? WTF? I asked my brother what the secret is, and he said its simple once you give up a good portion of your instinct for self-preservation: “Drive Fast. Brake Hard.”

The DPS is also where one goes to get a concealed-carry permit for a firearm, as well as (I think) a liquor license. You'd think mixing those three into one agency would be a recipe for disaster, right? I'll have to keep an eye on those folks. I've seen cop cars with DPS on 'em, they are like the State Troopers here in Texas. My brother said that the DPS guys would ticket their own grandmother; but he put it this way: “ Even though between cops, you usually just need to flash a badge to get cut some slack, those DPS guys are hardasses. Show your badge or ID and they'll say 'Hey, that's one shiny badge! See you in court.'” The Texas Rangers are like the State-level FBI**. For such a free-spirited state, there is a serious profusion of police bureaucracy. Who knew.

Oh Yeah! The Weather

It was oppressively hot and muggy twice last week, and there was a stint of some wicked weather, but since then it has been mild and in the low 80's. I was really starting to like it, actually -- then the Time Warner Cable guy (also a network flunky, so we chatted) said "Joo ain' see nothin, maink. Ees gonna get hotter than a snake's ass is a wagon rut here directly." Oh well. I'm wearing cotton; it breathes.

*This is Texas, after all. If Dubya and Rover have proved anything, it's how flexible a Texan's relationship to the law can be.
**Think Chuck Norris and a karate-choppin' brother in a cowboy hat.

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