Thanksgiving Travel

Thanksgiving Travel

Buried, someplace on the website’s archives, there’s an image of me, my Sister, and parents, at the old DFW Airport, with all of us in pajamas. It was a Christmas morning, and Sister was trying to emulate the idea of waking up together, filled with Xmas spirit and child-like joy. The airport was mostly deserted, and I know I had on black silk pajama bottoms and top, covered with a black silk bathrobe, and handmade Lucchese boots.

The good, old days.

Airport security was much more lax, so this was easily pre-Y2K.

Thanksgiving Travel

The trick I learned was about traveling on certain days. Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday before Thanksgiving? Miserable. Long lines, crowded locations. Last Tuesday, on my way back from Austin, it took over two hours. Holiday traffic, stop and go for about 60 miles. Not fun or pleasant. I listened to three more Shakespeare sections. Old podcast, but new material, for me, and remarkably refreshing. Shakespeare makes the stupid Austin traffic bearable.

At the airport in Dallas, as an inveterate observer of humanity, Thanksgiving Day, there was a woman, normal enough, tattoos, black spandex, rolling along, backpack over her shoulder, and then, as she hove into fuller view, I sort of assumed she had those roller-skate like tennis shoes or something. She was on a skateboard, and she had a little dog, on leash, pulling her along.

I was very impressed with poise, aplomb, and skill. She was good on a board, a sidewalk surfer, safely, quickly navigating a freakishly crowded airport. On thanksgiving day.

Thanksgiving Travel

Leaving San Antonio, I wore a Mi Tierra t-shirt, with the restaurant’s logo smeared across the front. It’s an image of Pancho Villa, hero of the Mexican Revolution. In three separate interactions with various employees, I was called Pancho.

“We have an order for Villa, V-I-L-L-A, Villa, anyone?” Rhymed it with “vanilla,” wrong pronunciation. Almost didn’t get lunch.

I still recall a time when Austin was minor market for air travel, and the old adage, swiped from a Texas novelist (Scorpio), “Doesn’t matter if you destination is heaven or hell, flying in Texas means connecting through Dallas…” with the original comment cataloged and collected in Pink Cake.

Thanksgiving Travel

The airports were full, normal crowd levels, and the planes were packed.

How does the song go? “Going to California with an ache and a fart…”

Landing in SFO always reminds me, reminds me of stuff.

Another Texas singer/songwriter? “Them Dallas girls, standing up beat the others lying down” —- Dallas crew on the plane.

In and out of Dallas, though, have to remember that one song, can’t ever escape it, “Ever see Dallas from a DC-9 at night?”

“San Francisco, where the boys tend to be prettier than the girls.”

Woke up to the sounds of the Pacific, tide incoming, surf pounding the beach.

Stinson Time

Stinson Time

Northeast Texas Women – Willis Alan Ramsey

Dallas – Joe Ely

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