Astronomy

Stardust Motel

Stardust Motel

“Deeper knowledge of heaven was first granted to earth by the gift of the gods. For who, if the gods wished to conceal it, would have guilefully stolen the secret of the skies, by which all things are ruled?”

Astronomica, I. 25, Marcus Manilius

I was going to include the original Latin, as well, but typing Latin tires me after a spell.

There are extant copies of the Manilius manuscript, as I understand it.

Roots.

“Yeah, let’s go for a walk,” I teased my sister, “although, it might be too warm for you.”

“How hot is it?” Sister asked.

“Oh, it will be in the seventies, you know,” I added.

“Oh god, that’s too hot, I’ll melt!” Sister cried.

It must be a Left Coast thing.

Best of Both Worlds:
All three, really. It’s an Xmas Feast, maybe a few days late. Brother Gary (Sagittarius) buzzed in from Louisiana.

“Kramer, I need to see if you can change my web page a little, I’m thinking, you know, for a set price, get a massage and hand gun training – concealed permit class – one price. What do you think?”

I think it’s a good idea. I like to address “Brother Gary” in a similar stentorian because, as a similar Sagittarius, it just fits. As part of the old guard in Austin, concealed hand gun training and massage therapy go hand-in-hand.

“It’s an Austin thang,” he drawled, “you get it.”

Actually, I do.

Anyway, Xmas in Austin was a few days late, not that it was a problem, just a relaxed pace. “Brother Gary” also provided the centerpiece, and to me? The ultimate reward for Xmas: Turducken.

De-boned turkey stuffed with chicken stuffed with duck stuffed with (beef stock) breading and (pork) sausage.

Legendary in these parts as a typical Cajun dish, and it was the most amazing food I’ve tasted recently. The turkey was roasted, looked like a regular turkey, but the duck, the Cajun spices, the hint of heat and the way it all combines, the roasting – to me – duck itself is kind of fatty, maybe greasy? But stuffed that inside the turkey? Great combination.

While it might seem a little strange to be enjoying a Cajun feast in old East Austin, it fits, too. Like concealed permit training and massages.

Gary? He lives down in New Orleans, these days.

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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