Back at the Ranch

So I’m back after a nice ramble in central Texas. First off, let me say, the Aquarena was fantabulous. Loved it! Texas State University has a great program. The glass bottom boat was terrific. The education aspect was great. Our little tour guide was cute as a bug, and he had lots of great information about the spring fed lake and all the wildlife in the area. And I’m all about encouraging my niece to go to TSU now. If you’re ever in the area, put this one on your tourist list. Even without the mermaids, or Ralph the Swimming Pig.

We also stopped in Lockhart for barbecue. Kreuz Market there is listed as number 3 of the top 5 barbecue joints in Texas by Texas Monthly. Personally, I’d beg to differ. The brisket at Louie Mueller (number 5) was far superior. Though Kruez’s German potato salad was to die for. Absolutely phenomenal. When you walked in, there was a sign that said, “Vegetarians through here, normal people this way.” If you took the normal route (I figured I might as well give normal a try), it took you into the room where the smoke pits were (ah, heavenly smoke), and you could get your various foods that previously had a face. The other door went into the part of the market that had things like sauerkraut, pickles, potato salad, etc. Though it is worth pointing out that the “vegetarian” potato salad had chopped brisket in it. Possibly Texans are a tiny bit sketchy on this vegetarian concept.

Then we got to the hotel for a short disco nap before heading to Gruene Hall for the Peacemakers. Sadly, the restaurant we had planned to eat at was out of business. And my mouth was all set for their coleslaw. Sad. We found a reasonable substitute though.

But on the way to the reasonable substitute, we passed Roger Clyne heading toward Gruene Hall. Yes, that Roger Clyne. I know. So, you know that feeling when you see someone that you think you might know, but aren’t sure, and have that panicky moment of “Should I wave? Should I smile and nod? Even if I do recognize them, that doesn’t mean they recognize me. Will they think some random stranger is accosting them on the sidewalk? Will that freak them out? Oh, what does a wave hurt? But if some possibly strange stranger waved at me, wouldn’t it freak me out, and wouldn’t I wonder who the hell that was waving at me?” Okay, so imagine that times about 10. In the end, my natural introversion and reluctance to invade another person’s personal space won out, and I just put my head down and kept walking.

Later it occurred to me that, probably, if you’re a musician you have some sort of innate tolerance for the random fan waving at you and possibly even (though this is incompressible to me) enjoy it. Weird, yet not without some logical basis. Extroverts. I don’t get it, but god bless. Possibly why the musical career path was never in the cards for me. [That and the fact that when it comes to instruments I’m all elbows, and my singing voice is like a cat caught in a cement mixer. Purdy it ain’t.] So, in retrospect, if I erred in etiquette there on the streets of Gruene, here’s an imaginary post-hoc friendly wave and a smile ~ & :)