Sunday morning, first it was the sound of a train, a long freight, rolling through town, the lonesome horn and rattle of the tracks echoing in the motel’s vents. Minutes later, rain. Again.
Another name?
VD: by any other name? Singles’ Awareness Day (thanks to an Aquarius).
The pawn shop is no longer there, but the sign remains the same?
Big sky:
Passed it on the way to the airport, the rain clouds were just clearing up, and I hastily scribbled the name of the place, “Big Sky Drive-In.” I wished I’d had a chance for a picture, but I was in a hurry to catch that last flight out. Only, Sunday night? Due to weather patterns – Texas weather is like Texas women – very unpredictable – some of the flights were late. At the last reading of the day, I looked at the female, her chart, and I asked if my plane was on time. She said it was. Beats calling the airline, the airport, the online services. She wasn’t 100% right, but then, none of us are: 10 minutes late.
I found this out at the check-in, which I waltzed right up to. I’m used to there being a line. No one. Three girls leisurely lounging behind the counter. I made a polite comment about how nice it was that there was no line. One of the attendants looked at me, smiled, suggested I “should’ve been here half an hour earlier. Sheer madness. I need to start smoking again.”
With enough time to kill a few minutes, passing through security, I poked into the departure lounge dining area, and I noted that there was an espresso machine behind the counter. I asked if they could do a quick shot, make it a double, and sure enough, I wound up with large cup of espresso, about four shots by my standards. Maybe six.
I looked at it, “Every thing’s bigger in Texas, huh?”
I was guessing I could fly the plane to Austin, and back on that much caffeine.
“If you are flying to Dallas, the last flight is this one. It will be leaving at 8:45. This will be the gate.”
There’s a whole bunch of gibberish that didn’t make it. I was typing as the plane was bouncing up and down, the battery went dead, and all is lost. From the notes, though, there was Her Honor (Leo), a typical fiery Aries, and myself, talking Texas, and comparing notes.
“Look honey, I’ve lived through on tornado, and doppler radar can direct the pilot. I’ll be fine. I love you.” There was another comment about how old she was, but I’m going to not report that one.
What doesn’t make any sense? Something about Post, Texas. I didn’t get it.
Meditations:
5. How to act:
Never under compulsion, out of selfishness, without forethought, with misgivings.
Don’t dress up your thoughts.
No surplus words or unnecessary actions.
Let the spirit in you represent a man, an adult, a citizen, a Roman, a ruler. Taking up his post like a soldier and patiently awaiting his recall from life. Needing no oath or witness.
Cheerfulness. Without requiring other people’s help. Or security supplied by others.
To stand up straight – not straightened.
Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book Three, #5.Laeti edimus qui nos subigant!
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