a pilgrimage to Ft. Worth

Road trip. Or day trip. Maybe call it a pilgrimage to Ft. Worth again, I mean all I was going to do was drive a pickup truck, maybe eat a little BBQ. So we got to telling stories, “Waxahachie [TX] is a Native American word. Translated it means, ‘Super wal-mart’,” that’s what REK said. Talking about the mileage, and her background, being from the Northeast and all, that Pisces allowed, “You do know, 200 miles is 3 states.” At the Czech Stop in West, Texas — there was a “Talking (beer) bottle opener,” that said, “I think I’ll have a beer.” That place is famous for kolaches, had one. Useless trivia: Texas has a greater population of Czech ancestry than any other state. Now that one Pisces manages property, and she had some interesting stories. One tenant had a headstone (tombstone) in the apartment, just as a piece of art. [I know the tenant, too] Then there was another tenant with what appeared to be a coffin. When queried about this, the first response was something to the effect of, “I just want to save my folks the trouble, you know,” and when this resulted in a few panic phone calls, the real story came out about how it was a prop leftover from Halloween. Her boss, Libra, worked as an ambulance tech many years ago, and he matched the tombstone, coffin tales with a story about how he posed as a stiff one time, and really scared one of the coworkers. In Ft. Worth, we first stopped by Paris Coffee Shop — on Magnolia St. — where we were possibly the youngest patrons for a late lunch. We grabbed coffee to go at 4 Star Coffee Bar where 3 out of 6 patrons were working on laptops. I discussed their source of ice cream for the espresso shake, and decided to go for the really big cappuccino instead. Caffeine powered for the drive home. 12 hours, three meals, 400 miles. What a day. The truck I drove back didn’t have a CD player so I was resigned to radio. But there’s something oddly reassuring about listening to country & western while buzzing down the Texas interstate in a pickup. About the time I hit the Austin line, though, I switched over to the station I’ll be on Friday at noon. 1980’s music. [107.7 on your FM dial.] It was that former Eagle’s song again, “… don’t look back, you can never look back.” Finally, unrelated to most of this, from the e–mail files.