“God and Texas, Victory or Death” William Barret Travis
Some days, despite the Moon’s sign, or the global news, some days are just better than others. But it was a Gemini day, through and through, keeping with the theme song for the times.
Started with a handful of phone calls, get this: ALL Gemini’s. 4, to be exactly precise. Just to round matters out, I called up a fifth one, just to let him know I was thinking about him. In fact, I called when I was on my way, on foot, to visit the holy waters at Barton Springs. Quick dip, amble home, stopped long enough to observe a big, crested bird in the tree, the aquamarine waters of the limestone-fed spring creek made an excellent backdrop.
A convenience store near me is offering “Fresh hot dogs,” and realizing that dinner at Magnolia was a long way off, I helped myself to tasty hot link on bun. Something about mystery meat products, dining on the way home, makes a perfect afternoon snack.
Got home, cleaned up, headed up to Magnolia to meet a lovely Gemini girl, do a reading, and I like it when I’m not pressured to “perform,” as it were. On the way, I stopped at Jo’s to collect a big cup of coffee and steamed milk, a little fuel to keep going. Walking slowly past the San Jose, a black Cadillac hearse with flames painted on the side was just disemboweling its passengers, which included, a cat on a leash. The four kids were done up in their rakish “goth” best, and personally, I found it a bit warm for that much black clothing. But the cat on the leash was too cool. Right, like my cat would ever submit to that idea. The cat owners, one kid looked as if he had a Mohawk, were really rather nice and soft-spoken, even kind. We exchanged cat banter. Over black beans, tortilla chips, that good Jo’s coffee, the schedule hour-long session lasted for almost two hours. Works for me.
Then, one more call from a Gemini, “Can you stop by the design center and just keep us entertained for a few hours, or something?” Me and the one Gemini got lost in the new [old?> Austin Design Center. Sort of an industrial park in the middle of town, its greatest claim to fame thus far? It’s right behind an infamous “gentleman’s club.” Don’t know much about it – not the kind of place I would care to frequent. Okay, true confession: I’ve been in that one exactly once. I was misled by a buddy, and we wound up in there for lunch. The girl working our table was a Gemini. Weird how I would remember that.
I finally located that one Gemini, in the new storefront, in the industrial park that is supposed to be a cool place. We walked around, talked some, watched while frantic soon-to-be store fronts and displays were being worked on, then my Gemini friend wanted to get her truck and dog, and I offered to help drive the other truck back. Confused? Don’t be – it’s a Gemini thing.
In the bathroom at the Gemini’s abode? A simple sign: “Please do not flush the toilet when the train is in station.”
I drove a huge, manly, monster truck, from one Gemini’s place to another, including a stop by Jo’s for more “turbo” coffee for the crew working the late night. Now, while I was driving that truck, I was deathly afraid I would get pulled over. Not because I was speeding or doing anything illegal, but because there was a set of red Prada CFM pumps on the seat beside me. I hadn’t noticed them earlier. Lipstick red pumps do not look macho, although, like I suggested before, it was a manly truck. I’m not sure, but I think it was almost a city block in length.
Back at the storefront, I offered assistance with tongue oil, helping to restore the finish on some of the furniture. Of course, one can just imagine the jokes about me using tongue oil….
The closing image? A Leo dad singing along with the radio, to his year-old Leo son, “Strawberry fields forever….”
