Everything is (a) Bigger (pain in the ass) in Texas

In my business travels I found myself in "H-Town" as the locals call it. Humid-Town, Hell-Town, How-The-Hell-did-I-land-here-Town; who knows. The map says Houston. In case I've been too subtle I did not enjoy it. As I was taking a nap waiting for a red light to change I contemplated why. Waiting minutes on end (there is no rhyme or reason as to red/green in Houston much less timing) has one advantage - you are not moving roughly over an ENTIRE CITY made of grated concrete roads. Bush's "Plan" for Iraq made more sense after seeing Houston - there is no organization whatsoever. Driving takes you through various shades of ghetto pock-marked by oil buildings. God forbid you want to get out of your car - you can drive by 11 closed parking garages at 8'oclock at night before you find a dirt lot 200 yards from the restaurant you're hoping has anything edible, as you've been driving for 2 hours and are 5 miles from your hotel, just to be greeted by the friendly neighborhood Armenian extortionist. $8 (negotiated) for parking later you have to run the vagrant gauntlet where 17 perfect healthy adults tell you to give them a dollar. It is best that you don't because you are about to pay $14 for a vodka tonic. This won't bother you too much because there is a suprisingly good jazz trio. You assume they have family held at gunpoint nearby to get them to live here but the guilt fades quickly. Back through the gauntlet and back onto a freeway with a 45 mph speed limit, which is all the suspension of your car can handle on warped concrete anyway, through a few neighborhoods resembling Beirut with pawn shops and you find yourself back at the hotel......where you are paying $6 to park. The upside of the $6 parking is that since you are one of 8 guests in the hotel you can have almost any space you want. I comforted myself with this knowledge as I woke from my nap, groggily looked up to see the light still red and went back to sleep.