Adventure 357: Austin Texas/Post A

Home Sweet Home Pecan Grove

At church this morning, Pastor Jesse Elizondo, was preaching on the subject of relationship. His main message: Enjoy life with your wife-a paradise to be enjoyed, not a prison to be endured. I looked over at my Bunny, touched her thigh, and grinned. After all, if a guy can't enjoy life with a woman in less than a hundred square feet, then something must be terribly wrong. As I've said, "I'm the luckiest guy on the planet-not in the least because of my choice of spouse. I'm even conceited enough to believe that my first spouse, Annie, would still be with me had she lived. I genuinely accepted Pastor Elizondo's notion that a spouse is a gift from God. We left church smiling, which is always a good way to start the day. Our drive to Austin was uneventful, save for the fact that I didn't prepare myself for entering the big city. We've been traveling in the hinterlands, so bumper to bumper speed traveling was more than my psyche was ready for. I'm better now, but I must say I was a bit unnerved entering Austin. The first thing we did after setting up, was walk over the bridge to Trader Joe's. About a mile and a half from here, we have both the Trader Joe mother ship and the Whole Foods mother ship. It's a Yuppie dream! After shopping, we hopped into Fric and drove to the Little Longhorn Saloon, which used to be a chapel, and now is the afternoon church home of "Chicken Shit" bingo (You Tube it). Just like the last time we were there (When Leticia won), the place was SRO. Younger folks mostly, thirties or so, were swilling buckets of Lone Star as fast as they could carry them out of the bar. The bar could sell quite a bit more beer if they had table service in the parking lot (Probably an ordinance against it; Roll it back, President Trump!). Judy stood in line for a ticket (Two bucks a pop) to bet on which number the chicken would poop on. Judy had #6. The chicken chose #41. It was a hoot; the people watching extraordinary, and we left pretty sober and a few dollars poorer. Just down the street was an excellent pizza pub called the Pint House. It's a family friendly place with great pizza and about a million beers on tap. Perfect. We're now nestled in back at the Pecan Grove RV Park right next to another Airstream from New York. Life couldn't be much better, especially today.

 No perfect people allowed: We might make it after 28 years.

 The chicken.

 They make a call and the people make a mad dash to get in line to purchase a chance at the Chicken Poop.

 There's Judy waving in the crowd.

 There's the crowd going crazy. It's all good clean Sunday Afternoon Religion at the Little Longhorn Saloon (It used to be a chapel).

 Judy gambling her two bucks.

 Not so lucky #6.

 Post defeat porter at the Pint House Pizza Parlor.

Post defeat pizza. What better way to soothe sorrow?