Dug up one more historical oddity about San Angelo, the confluence for the Butterfield Trail, the Goodnight – Loving cattle route, and the San Antonio – El Paso road. Plus, at one time, it was close to a Comanche watering hole.
Insert something about Ft. Concho here.
Fear and trepidation:
Mr. Sanders was the sole, driving force behind the San Angelo Wholistic Rodeo, which, for a one day event, was a success.
The readers were tucked off in a room, and I felt like we were just another sideshow. Looked like, on Saturday morning at 8:30 AM, it was going to be another loser show. I’d be grateful for a chance to maybe cover my cost of dinner, and that was about it.
Then there was the start time. El Paso, the weekend before, show starts at 11 AM, which, by Austin time, is noon. Noon is a much more reasonable start time. Much to my chagrin, I worked from 8:45 A-friggin’M to almost 7 Saturday night. Four cups of coffee, one cookie, and that was it until I staggered out the door. Plus two bottles of water – the promoter himself made several rounds, handing out bottled water. It was a nice touch – sets the tone a little different from the usual charlie – foxtrot working weekends.
What’s special – or odd – or special and odd – is having customers, clientele, show up from years ago. And when I mean years ago, I mean from more than a decade back. Down from Lubbock and Abilene, and a host of surrounding towns I can name, just different – in a good way. The worst part? Not recognizing what should be familiar faces. Folks I haven’t seen close to a dozen years?
“It’s the center cut of the tenderloin, like a T-Bone without the bone,” the Virgo explained to me, “how do you like it?”
Rare. Just kind of cripple, no need to hurt the entire cow, that’s my way of looking at it. Which is what I got. And it was every bit as delicious as I recall. Better, even.
Heading down the street, I completely ran out of blank CD’s. San Angelo has grown. What was once a sleepy town, on the edge of the west Texas plains, the little village has sprouted shopping centers, malls, sprawling complexes filled with names that are familiar chains, and, of course, a drive-though Starbucks. I miss the colloquial and regional flavor of the old “Feed & Seed” stores, not the monolithic chains that dominated the night sky.
Laeti edimus qui nos subigant!
(click to visit)
