Deep thoughts from Texas - Yes That's Irony Folks...

This week my loyal readers (love ya mom!) get a special treat, a mid trip post. I'm all about the fans people. I am in Austin....as in Texas. It is interesting to me that the neighborhoods directly surrounding the Texas capital building are the least "Texas-like" in the state. Cool town. Pseudo hippies, laid back atmosphere, cultural variety (relatively speaking), music everywhere - fun town. Like everywhere else local knowledge is king. With a head full of local recommendations I headed to a hole in the wall Mexican joint I was told was the best Mexican food in the known universe - sorry, "Tex-Mex". So I roll in, partly literally with my rolling travel bag, and I'm immediately struck by the atmosphere. It was a converted feed store complete with wooden plank floors older than my entire state. Killer soundtrack - everything from John Lee Hooker to Soundgarden. Ryan is home. Service was insane (good). They moved a table over next to an outlet so I could plug in the laptop - I didn't even ask. Asked the waiter to bring me his favorite - a good habit. So as I caught up on work I watched the street traffic. Rednecks, 9 flavors of hippies, college students, Mexicans, Blacks, Purples, Greens, off-whites....I sorta lost track. Not your typical Texas fare. Great service, great music, great atmosphere - and then a thought occurred to me - "This taco tastes like Paris Hilton's ass after a 4 day coke binge". Oh, riiiiight, like I'm the only one who knows.

San Francisco - Expensive for a Reason

Hello kids

This weeks adventure lands our fearless globetrotter in beautiful San Francisco. What a town. Let's start with a little theme of mine: It's not 110 degrees in SF! Why do I live in an oven? Anywhoo... I reached an epiphany in SF while sitting in an incredible Italian restaurant being spoiled rotten by the owner watching seedy strip clubs across the street try to attract customers. This would never happen in Arizona - or almost anywhere. Do San Franciscans not care about their city? Quite the opposite. You won't find more protective citizens. So why do you see such extremes mixed together? Because they practice what so many others preach- "You do your thing and I'll do mine", "Live and let Live" - call it what you will. You have millions of people who are truly sold on the idea that the more flavor the better. You can't get more American than that. Here's a message for all of you midwest, tight-ass, closed borders, lilly-white, Christian or nuthin' mindless dolts: "KISS MY RED WHITE AND BLUE ASS!!!" California liberals are more American that you are - and so am I. Yeah, I said it.

Added to the spice of San Francisco culture I had a little company on my little escapade. Never underestimate the mood lightening power of the company of the fairer sex. Especially when she's much much fairer than you are. I'm working with personality here folks. I felt like Michael Jordan's 10 year old son trying to take the old man one on one at the family picnic. I could hear the women courtside saying, "Oh look, isn't that adorable, he's trying so hard." But like that 10 yr old I told myself "That old man doesn't stand a chance" and pulled out all the stops. Drove down the PCH to Monterey/Carmel. Holy sh*t beautiful! If you take a woman to 17 mile drive to watch otters play and nothing happens she was hoping to run into Rosie O'donnell in Carmel.

And how's this for timing - they ran the Concourse Rally right up the main drag in Carmel while we were there. So let us clarify: I was in 70 degree weather in August with a beautiful woman draped over me drinking free vodka tonics (beautiful women attract free drinks) watching near priceless cars raced by me as I overlooked perhaps the most beautiful bay in the world. How did you spend your Friday? The list of things I won't do to become disgustingly wealthy is getting frighteningly short. I'll be down to a post-it soon.

When in Rome....Cowboy up....errrr something

And so Ryan lands in Oklahoma City. Jealous? I know. In fairness, not a bad town. Airport was functional - with words and everything - unlike San Antonio. Nice people. Felt my drawl coming out inch by inch until I was about to throw in a "Yee-diggity" and caught myself. Earned hero status at a bar where (I kid you not) a patron was throwing change at every opportunity into the bartenders cleavage. I asked her, "Is this guy an owner?" She said, "He's been in here every day for 3 years." To which I said (loud enough that everyone could hear it) "So how does that make him less of an asshole?" This apparently was the magic statement that made him leave and gave me free drinks and back scratches (helloooooo Heaven) for the rest of the evening. I can't wait to try it somewhere else. If it works for you I expect royalties. The downtown area is a nice micro-version of San Antonio. Plenty to keep you busy. I even found a techno Euro-trash club that had the fortune of being nearby when I really had to find a bathroom. My sense of obligation meant that I had to endure the "Music" through a vodka tonic. I left it half full.

Honorable mention: In Oklahoma "Cafe" can mean strip club. And "Dance" can mean "treat me like a 9 year old Macaulay Culkin dipped in honey butter with a twisted ankle and dropped into the Vatican." Laws are sort of guidelines in Oklahoma gentleman's clubs. I didn't know whether to tip extra or press charges. I decided to go to Amarillo.

Off to Amarillo! Wind. Did I mention wind? And then there was wind. If the wind ever stopped in Amarillo every man, woman and child would simultaneously fall over and be rendered immobile having now idea how to walk without a lean. The first day I looked like a Nick Nolte mug shot. The next day I prepared with the hair gel helmet that snared low-flying birds now and then but was a reasonable trade off. And who can forget 10 Cadillacs buried face first in the dirt. To me this is a metaphor of the Texas political mindset. No matter how stylish you may be, if your head is buried in the dirt you never really know who is responsible for the limp you have in the morning. Quote for the Amarillo trip (at a movie theater waiting 30 minutes in line):

Me: "Do you think there any other ticket machines inside?"
Kindly patron: (dumbfounded look) "You aint from Amarillo are ya?"

And that sums it up.

And it was off to Santa Fe. I have no specific recollection of the drive. Nothing to recollect - except stopping in the dinosaur museum in Tucumcary to get pictures for my dinosaur fanatic nephew. I'm such a cool uncle. Anyhoo - Santa Fe is camouflaged. Like most camouflage it doesn't actually prevent you from seeing the object, it just irritates you because you cannot differentiate between objects. Like restaurants. Everything is tan and squared off!!!! Ok, I get it, there were Indians here and they had pueblos before you raped and murdered them and tossed in some smallpox for spice. I don't think a proper monument to the glory of the indigenous peoples is to make the Applebee's look like a truck stop where I can buy an "authentic" rug and a Slurpee. Here's another news flash: Coyotes are not and have never been aqua blue. They are scrawny looking dogs that chase prairie dogs - not wear bandannas and hold my door open. I know - I checked. And so the good news - it's 75 degrees in July and I'm from Phoenix. All is forgiven. I'll buy your ornately turquoise encrusted shoe horn if it means that I can stand here and not fear spontaneous combustion. Ahhhhhh cool wind. And the smell. Assuming there is no patchouli from hippies are walking by it actually smells of sweet mesquite. Not nearly enough is said of the smell of a place. To me it's important. New York smells like a floor mat in a 30 year old cab and I can never live there. The repression of one's gag reflex is for getting promotions - not for choking down a bagel in the morning.