I was trying to beat the clock, the car had to be back by noon, and it’s hard to pass up sitting around on a Monday morning, shooting the breeze with the parental units.
I missed most of the rush hour, and I just poked along, avoiding big trucks and fast cars, Lyle Lovett was singing about Texas girls and trucks, as I pulled off the highway in Waco, long enough to get a coffee.
The guy at the drive through, as I ordered a “quad venti soy latte” suggested I had an expensive habit.
I merged back on the interstate, got into the center lane and thumbed on the music again, last of Lyle, then the Chemical Brothers, “Out of control.”
A red chevy pickup flew past in the fast lane, probably close to triple digits. Perfect timing for the song.
Back in Austin.
Duck tape
I was thinking about starting a new category, calling it Duck Tape, but I think that’s been done before, plus, I can usually cover that material under the “road stories” selection.
For taxonomy, that makes it a lot simpler. Road, web and home. Home, where I’m headed, via the road, and the web, where this is.
“I’d go home, but my home’s right here,” (21 days on the road).
Unrelated, uno:
Something along the lines of “Why I’m not smoking the podcasting dope.”
The title alone intrigued me. But I’m down with that.
Unrelated, two:
Bitter look at that question. Again.
Family?
“You and your Sister just make stuff up.”
I called it “malicious fiction,” at least on Sister’s part.
“It’s not genetic,” I said.
“No, it’s not.” (Scorpio Ma Wetzel)
“And it’s not a learned behavior, certainly not from here,” I said.
“Of course not.” (Scorpio Ma Wetzel)
- Camera: iPad Pro (11-inch)
- Flash fired: no
- Focal length: 3mm
- ISO: 64
- Shutter speed: 1/60s
