Corpus Christi

Corpus Christi looks dull and gray this morning, and the overcast is pretty thick. So is the atmosphere. I may be used to the Austin humidity, but this close to the Gulf, about three blocks, it’s a lot more. More of everything. More oxygen, it feels like, and more water in the air. I wonder if it’s possible to be more than 100% humidity? The ride down last night had a few amusing points, one of which was listening to the driver. He and I seem to see the same jokes on the net, so he would merely start out a joke, and I would finish with the punch line, leaving a gaping hole in between. Of course, we thought this was vastly amusing. Not everyone traveling with us was so amused. “I don’t get it — what are laughing it?” “I guess you had to be there.” That would be followed by another snort and giggle.

Early on Saturday morning, I was fooling around during set up, and I wound up swapping war stories with Mac, the Aura Photography guy. I conned him into doing my picture, and I’m pretty sure that his camera ain’t working right, and if it is, then all that Aura Photography is pretty much a hoax. That’s the clear conclusion from what I see, and from what he said, and from what everyone who looked at the aura picture of me suggested, too. “You’re deeply spiritual, and look at all the angels around you.” “Dude, look at that vast amount of white, what were you doing last night?” “Who’d you sleep with last night, wow!” Maybe it’s me, but I just don’t see. Of course, this close to the ocean, hotel bill already paid, and I’m a happy person. Of course, I didn’t do anything [or anybody] last night. But serene inner calm? I think the camera must be jinxed.

Dinner was BBQ at the County Line, and while that may seem a little weird this close to the coast, this particular place is a Saturday night favorite with my traveling crowd.

  • Aperture: ƒ/1.5
  • Camera: iPhone 14 Plus
  • Taken: 19 October, 2024
  • Flash fired: no
  • Focal length: 5.7mm
  • ISO: 40
  • Shutter speed: 1/120s

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in a trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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