It’s Sunday morning. I’m on Austin time, and everyone else is moving on local time, an hour later.
There’s a fishing show on TV, Cookie (Sagittarius) is snoring on the other couch, and Grace is getting ready to haul us to breakfast and then off to work.
The BBQ was last night, some kind of franchise or chain, Dave’s something BBQ. The St. Louis style ribs were good, but by the time we got seated, I was obnoxious enough, they’d do anything to get us out of there.
Grace’s daughters were getting annoyed with me and my camera, as I kept trying to get that picture of the back of the waitress’s shirt. The littlest of the Leo’s, 10 or 12 now, dryly observed, “Kramer, I bet you got beat up a lot when you were a kid.”
No, but I do get it these days.
The wireless is working, and that’s a fine thing. Makes life on the road a little easier.
After breakfast on Saturday, and getting to the hotel, and setting up, I slipped out of my sandals. So I spent the greater portion of the day barefoot. A couple of people remarked about that, and pointed out that – straight up fact – 80% of the population thinks better when barefoot.
We do what we can.
Out on their back patio, the hummers (Hummingbirds) are just buzzing around.
Barefoot, reeking of patchouli?
How long has that been?
I thought about it, I mean, this is one of my favorite times to travel, especially around the southwest since the weather is so accommodating. But think about the mechanics of the travel, right? Put shoes on, take shoes off, why not just skip that step? I tossed the sandals in the carry bag, and hopped a cab to the airport. Nothing new there, I suppose, it just seems like it’s ben a long time since a barefooted, long-haired guys who smell like patchouli has showed up to check in at the gate.
To be honest, I printed my boarding pass ahead of time, so it’s not like I had to check in anyplace? Still, barefoot was different. Only, this was leaving Austin, so I wasn’t any more odd. Pass through security and get dressed. Again, nothing new.
Heard on the news, in the waiting lounge, “There’s a new shoe out that simulates running barefoot.” (I was barefoot – I mean, ah this is just getting silly.)
I was reading an article, all about the economics of touring. Some musicians, most, in fact, make more money touring than by selling music. Yeah, so El Paso is whistle stop on the Kramer Tour. I still love it.
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[/style> All the fine dining in the world. All the nice places. San Antonio, Austin, Dallas, Ft. Worth. The best Tex-Mex breakfast is still the truckstop in El Paso. Shredded beef and scrambled eggs, a flour tortilla and rather hot – more than piquant – hot sauce.
Might not be the good life for some, but it’s my life, and I’m liking it. How’s that song go? Life on the road is the life of rambling man?
Then, there always has to be some BBQ, right?
