The Adventures of Fric and Frac: Adventure 62: Corpus Christi, TX/Post B

Come South. It's a balmy 45 degrees today!

Buoyed by her morning shower, the rosy cheeked wily cager tied the tournament score with a narrow one peg victory. We then enjoyed our normal morning of oatmeal, but embellished it with some of Miss Karen's home made oatmeal bread. Then we hunkered down beneath the wind and mist for a couple of hours. We talked with Arlene, Judy's sister, and heard that five inches of snow fell in Oklahoma City. Driving there abouts is treacherous, but promises to ease a bit tomorrow, which will aid Wilbur and Arlene's trip back to Newton. Around eleven the rain abated just as the weatherman promised, so we set out to get our bearings on Corpus Christi. Outside, the biting wind invited us to stay inside Fric with the heat blasting, which we did, so the weather outside is frightful didn't bother us much. The neighborhood we live in is the oldest part of Corpus Christi. We're right next to a huge cemetery and what was once the biggest high school in town, Miller High (also the oldest high school in town - created in 1894). We walked by yesterday as school let out. The customers nowadays are mostly hispanic, but they are kids just like kids everywhere. I saw boyfriends and girlfriends hugging under trees. I saw skateboarders doing ollies in the parking lot (or trying to), and I saw friends laughing at each other's foibles. Soccer practice, both boys and girls, was in full swing. The kids appeared to be having fun. On the baseball field, boys were playing across the line, laughing all the way. The school complex is immense. The football stadium is not too much smaller than Joe Albi Stadium in Spokane. Certainly, it is three times the size of any high school field in our area. It would be interesting to see what the new high school(s) look like. If the weather forces us to warmth again tomorrow, we may drive across town to find out. Our drive today took us to the USS Lexington, a World War II aircraft carrier that has been turned into a World War II museum. They were prepping for a big to do for tomorrow's December 7 memorial, so our timing was perfect. We didn't have to fight the crowds as we climbed through bulkheads and clambered up and down stairways. The ship is an incredible maze that had three thousand beds in its hey day. I believe today's carriers are even bigger. There were five separate tours that led from the flight deck to the captain's quarters to some enlisted quarters to the lush "greeting" room where dignitaries would be met to the anchoring station to the deck guns. All along the way, mannequins would begin talking as soon as we motion activated them. There were also plaques, medals, photos, and all other sorts of patriotic memorabilia. A red blooded American boy couldn't help but get choked up a bit. The tour ended with a short 3D(They gave us glasses) movie on a three story screen. It chronicled the lives of four service people who played significant parts in the disaster relief of Haiti. The obvious message was that even though our military might is awesome, our humanitarian presence is all the more an example of America's greatness. From the decks of the Lexington, we dashed back through the biting wind to Fric and pushed on around Mustang and Padre Islands. We saw lots of pastel condominiums on stilts, several hotels, took a free ferry (Two minutes), drove down an access road to the beach, and had lunch at Doc's, a famous beachside restaurant famous for its ambience and its clam chowder. The ambience held true. The chowder was medium, but the peel and eat shrimp were delicious. (It's just like the pecans and mangos-fresh local can't be beat). To complete our circle, we drove back along ocean drive right through the high rent district. We passed the First Baptist Church, a huge monolith, and we plan to become Baptists (Finally) for a day on Sunday. I didn't stop to take pictures, but the houses are twenty to thirty room affairs with ocean views and many include backyard pools. Most had electric gates and three car garages. A few had two story turrets, and one or two took the castle motif all the way to ramparts. After church on Sunday, if the weather permits, we'll take a walk along the gulf shore so we can ogle a bit more closely. We're snuggled up in Frac for the night, and the wind (As promised) is howling. Oh, one final note: the smell. It's not sewage; instead it's industrial, which is no surprise since petroleum rigs dot the horizon (Some even have natural gas fire spouts) and huge Dr. Seuss like contraptions can be seen spewing smoke and steam from any compass point. I've decided the smell is much like Lewiston, Idaho's pulp mill, except that there is also a distinct metallic hint. Maybe the Texans call it the smell of money. That's all for now. I'm off to break the tie, and I can hardly wait to see which trick the wily cager tries to pull tonight. As usual, life is good, especially today.