Site search
sponsored by
News
ENLARGE
I WAS JUST THINKIN'
By Glen McAdoo
I have just returned from a trip of several weeks. After forty-four hundred miles and many a rest stop I have reached several conclusions based upon what I observed.
Every other independent motel between here and Texas is named Roadrunner. When you reach Texas everything changes. The Boot Hill Motel, The Boot Hill Saloon and Restaurant, The Boot Hill Boot Shop (how novel), and The Boot Hill Emporium, are just several of the places I saw named Boot Hill after entering Texas. I didn't visit any of them. Who in their right mind would stay at the Boot Hill Motel? Checking out might have an entirely different connotation at that place. Might as well just stay at the Bates Motel. Thanks, but no thanks, I'll just stay at a Best Western or somewhere.
I don't know what they sold at the Boot Hill Emporium, but I imagine it was the same things that were sold at a place I saw called Texas Stuff. How about this sign I saw "Donuts, Guns and Archery"? I wonder what happens when you get glaze on your trigger finger? What if a Texan had a sticky itchy trigger finger?
I should have known things were going to be different in Texas as soon as I entered the state. The first Texas county I came to upon entering the state was Deaf Smith County. I kid you not. I guess old Smith didn't know about it until he saw the sign, just like me.
Every other independent motel between here and Texas is named Roadrunner. When you reach Texas everything changes. The Boot Hill Motel, The Boot Hill Saloon and Restaurant, The Boot Hill Boot Shop (how novel), and The Boot Hill Emporium, are just several of the places I saw named Boot Hill after entering Texas. I didn't visit any of them. Who in their right mind would stay at the Boot Hill Motel? Checking out might have an entirely different connotation at that place. Might as well just stay at the Bates Motel. Thanks, but no thanks, I'll just stay at a Best Western or somewhere.
I don't know what they sold at the Boot Hill Emporium, but I imagine it was the same things that were sold at a place I saw called Texas Stuff. How about this sign I saw "Donuts, Guns and Archery"? I wonder what happens when you get glaze on your trigger finger? What if a Texan had a sticky itchy trigger finger?
I should have known things were going to be different in Texas as soon as I entered the state. The first Texas county I came to upon entering the state was Deaf Smith County. I kid you not. I guess old Smith didn't know about it until he saw the sign, just like me.
If you are like me you are all sick to death of the slogan don't mess with Texas. As soon as you get to Texas the signs say "Don't mess with Texas, don't litter". In Arizona and New Mexico you will find very nice rest areas along the interstate. Rest areas complete with rooms in which to rest or whatever, and vending machines. In Texas these areas become Picnic areas. No place to rest, or whatever. Now, who in the world would choose an area alongside an interstate to have a picnic? About 20 eighteen-wheelers whiz by nearly every minute. If you don't want your egg salad sandwich or fried chicken to taste like diesel fuel you'll choose another location.
They should change that slogan to "Don't mess in Texas." Then people would know why they have picnic areas instead of rest areas with restrooms. I guess that the Texans, being so full of it, just don't have enough capacity left in their sewer treatment plants to handle a bunch of travelers just passing through. Yep, stranger, don't mess in Texas or on Texas.
I did find a couple of actual rest areas on highway 287. They had signs that said "Rest Area and Tornado Shelter". How comforting. I guess they figure if they are going to scare the crap out of you they had better provide a facility. I watched the sky a lot after leaving one of those places.
In eastern Texas as I approached Arkansas, I noticed a Texas Bar-be-cue place about every other mile. They all said the same thing " World famous Bar-be-cue". I never heard of the places. One thing about Texans will never change, they are notorious braggarts and tall tale tellers. Ain't that right, GW?
They should change that slogan to "Don't mess in Texas." Then people would know why they have picnic areas instead of rest areas with restrooms. I guess that the Texans, being so full of it, just don't have enough capacity left in their sewer treatment plants to handle a bunch of travelers just passing through. Yep, stranger, don't mess in Texas or on Texas.
I did find a couple of actual rest areas on highway 287. They had signs that said "Rest Area and Tornado Shelter". How comforting. I guess they figure if they are going to scare the crap out of you they had better provide a facility. I watched the sky a lot after leaving one of those places.
In eastern Texas as I approached Arkansas, I noticed a Texas Bar-be-cue place about every other mile. They all said the same thing " World famous Bar-be-cue". I never heard of the places. One thing about Texans will never change, they are notorious braggarts and tall tale tellers. Ain't that right, GW?
I visited my daughter in Dallas before going on to visit friends and relatives in Arkansas. My daughter was supposed to go on to Arkansas with me but before we could leave she broke her foot, fulfilling a lifelong dream, and was unable to go.
When she was eight or nine she came home from school crying because one of her friends had suffered a broken arm. Cindy was in tears because, as she put it. "How come I never get any broken bones?" Well, be careful what you wish for.
Arkansas was wet and green and absolutely beautiful. I went to a bluegrass concert in Heber Springs, a watermelon festival in Cave City, a catfish Buffet at the local catfish place, and on Sunday, to the Cornerstone Methodist Church, all with my aunt and uncle. My Uncle Robert is 86 and still pluckin' the guitar in church.
One thing you will notice about Arkansas, they have a church about every 100 yards, or so it seems. I told my aunt I think there are more churches in Arkansas than there are Christians. She said I might be right.
When she was eight or nine she came home from school crying because one of her friends had suffered a broken arm. Cindy was in tears because, as she put it. "How come I never get any broken bones?" Well, be careful what you wish for.
Arkansas was wet and green and absolutely beautiful. I went to a bluegrass concert in Heber Springs, a watermelon festival in Cave City, a catfish Buffet at the local catfish place, and on Sunday, to the Cornerstone Methodist Church, all with my aunt and uncle. My Uncle Robert is 86 and still pluckin' the guitar in church.
One thing you will notice about Arkansas, they have a church about every 100 yards, or so it seems. I told my aunt I think there are more churches in Arkansas than there are Christians. She said I might be right.
Churches edge out catfish places as the number one attraction in Arkansas. When I was a youngster the sweltering heat and humidity made going to church in July or August a very uncomfortable experience.
Today the churches there are air conditioned and some even have ceiling fans. Gone are the hand held fans, touting the praises of the local mortuary or car dealership, that used to sit next to the hymnals on the back of the pews.
I think there must be a shortage of waitresses down south, I've never seen so many buffet restaurants in my life. They're very good, for the most part. Can't beat the Golden Corral. Even the Cornerstone Methodist Church had a very nice pot luck on Sunday. It's the competition, baby.
Glen McAdoo, a Fallon resident, can be reached at glynn@phonewave.net.
Today the churches there are air conditioned and some even have ceiling fans. Gone are the hand held fans, touting the praises of the local mortuary or car dealership, that used to sit next to the hymnals on the back of the pews.
I think there must be a shortage of waitresses down south, I've never seen so many buffet restaurants in my life. They're very good, for the most part. Can't beat the Golden Corral. Even the Cornerstone Methodist Church had a very nice pot luck on Sunday. It's the competition, baby.
Glen McAdoo, a Fallon resident, can be reached at glynn@phonewave.net.
