Flaco

Flaco:
Only one I can personally vouch for, seen him a time of two with the old Tornados, and, well, he’s the star.

And one nice quote from a “David Robinson, formerly of the Spurs,” about that new shopping center with the thing crowd, he was in the new Apple store, “This is the coolest store here.” (From the Saturday Express-News article about thongs)

San Antonio
I stopped in Mary Jane’s Cafe, right next to the bookstore, for a cup of coffee and some fried chicken embryos for breakfast.

I opened up a copy of the Saturday paper. There was an article about the new shopping center that’s having a grand opening.

I misread the headline, but it’s why I obviously like this town.

“SA Shops till it drops.
La Cantera Grand opening attracts thong crowd.”

What’s there not to love?

SA never lacks for a good reason to party:
[style=floatpicleft>image[/style>I think – could be wrong – but I figure it was Miguel Hidalgo, the irreverent priest who helped ferment and foment the Mexican Revolution. Party day is nominally Sept 16, stretched all weekend. As I’ve suggested, SA never lacks for a good reason to party.

A traditional repast for a tourist is taken at Mi Tierras, and on the way in, I kept hearing the conjunto in the street, lively music, it’s that “lead accordion” that rocks.

On the way out, I had to pause. The band had changed, but there was still a lead accordion playing, and the lead singer was playing the “air accordion,” if I could beleive my eyes. I was tired, it was a long day, but still, Air Accordion.

Another band (group, really) was warming up, a high school group, according to an announcer, “Our Lady of the Lake,” and all I can think of when I hear that is some watery woman, handing some knight a sword. Which has nothing to do with anything. Other than the Templars, and so forth.

Good thing I’m not paranoid. Just a confused white boy adrift in a Spanish town.

I looked out over the couples drifting on the street, in front of the makeshift band shell, half-dozen couples, half-dozen kinds of dancing styles, no two matched, and even my Anglo self though, “Hey, I could do that shuffle….”

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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