Breakfast in El Paso
There should be something profound here. It’s a good working title. There was a musical ring to it.
This area of the country holds much for me in memory, shared memory and recent memory. Perhaps my fondest?
Breakfast in El Paso. From the truck stop to the various Village Inns, with echoes of Albuquerque and Amarillo a shadowy backdrop, the Pastry Chef, echoed on Padre Island, and back again to the old Austin airport, the new Austin airport, and thence to San Antonio.
For some reason, the term seemed to sum it all up, breakfast in El Paso.
cf., Travel schedule
