Going to Texas. Austin, Texas.

April 28 2011

I wake up before dawn, in a still steamy city. Nothing for me here anymore. I had thoroughly trashed my hotel room during my stay, staying true to the spirit of rock and roll, and now needed to pack my carry on bag with all the accoutrements needed by such a star as me.

We leave our fabulously well appointed accommodations, with a deep sigh of relief by the staff I am sure, after all that debauchery, the likes of which had never been seen in such a grand old city such as New Orleans, and head to the west. I was assured that I might find something fun to do if I go to the Capitol of Texas. How far can that be? Coming from New England, one can drive thru several states in a few hours, but down here we travel several hours and still are in the same state. Armadillos! Dead ones. Little dinosaurs littering the road. We don’t get that in Boston. I also see oil wells, corn fields, and a lot of cows. The hanging out of the car window and mooing back at them got old after a while, and I was threatened with expulsion from the car. But we needed my humor later, when road fatique set in, I had to sing and dance to entertain us to keep us awake.

We arrive at our home for the next few hours, with runny faces and wild hair, and smelling like the armadillos. This lovely little place took one look at us, shuffled us away from the desk and hustled us to our room. The presidential suite. I did think of showering with my clothes on, to save on the laundry, but was talked out of it. Once again I open up my bag of tricks and transform myself into a glamorous female any famous person would want draped upon their arm.

Austin is famous for it’s bats, and I desperate wanted to stop and watch, but I was told I was too much competition and they wouldn’t come out if I was there. But we parked the tired car in a shady spot and went for a walk. Saw a sculpture that some said looked like a tonsil, or a light bulb, my dirty mind thought the hanging sac like object looked a bit anatomical, and not of my anatomy. Punish me.

I once again found myself being greeted by name, met some lovely people, reacquainted myself with others. I should get to Texas more often, I know so many people here.

I am given direction to get to my seat, and the lights go down, and the place is filled with the sounds of guitars, drums, keyboards, vocals, oh my. Never heard anything like this before. At least not this night. I sit in another seat the next half. Shades of Bournemouth during H&H, as the right half was up and the left was not. I was on the right. Good thing I had left the left, I would have stood out standing up.

Not perfect, the enthusiasm was visible, at least to the third row, but waxed and waned thru the night. Like the tide slowly turning. No one noticed any mistakes, at least, not to speak of. I was not wearing any socks. Some people were. Just thought I would throw that out there.

There was one large female in a dress that threatened to fall, Both her and her precariously worn dress, exposing something I did not want to see, but men might have liked seeing, shades of Santa Rosa here, and she was flailing around, and pushed me into a dear friend, then continued to elbow me in the face and head, and almost knocked me over several times. And she should rethink the amount of deodorant she applies next time she leaves the house. And her food choices, we wont mention Garlic. She assaulted me In front of those fellows whose names I forget, but have become so dear to me. I like to embarrass myself thank you, I do not need assistance I was unaware that concert going in Texas was both a competition and contact sport. That hurt. I am alright, and maybe I slugged her back, maybe by accident. Times like these I miss Red.

We saunter around, take a leisurely drive back to the strip mall motel, and blow kisses to the odd people who inhabit the area.
Eye shades, ear plugs, and a brush of the teeth and a good night.

WOW I am in Texas, y'all.