We Pause for Station Identification... or Something

I'm in a mood.

I am tired of telling the same people over and over the same reasons why I did something ten years ago. It. Does. Not. Matter. Now. I can't change it, and if I could, I still might not. So if you keep asking me, all you will get is a Mad Fish.

I choose to conduct my financial affairs the way I do for a reason. I am learning from the mistakes of others. So get out of my business, because you are definitely one of the others.

The way I raise my children, too, is none of your business. Just so ya know. If I'm screwing them up, there's always therapy, or even adulthood, to get them over it. I haven't managed to get them killed thus far, and chances are they will survive to slam me in their memoirs when they are old. So back off.

That is all, until I'm pissed off again.

Trees! State parks! Whizzing by at 70 mph!

When I say Texas is big, I really mean that. Houston to Dallas on the main interstate is a breeze, if, as I have said, an ugly one. About a 4.5 hour drive, it's usually plagued with construction south of Dallas (which never seems to be completed) and has few interesting towns according to JJ. Interesting means, in his vocabulary, a real downtown that you drive through, lights and all, rather than a spiffy-fast bypass that takes you around the town and leaves you with two truck stops and a McDs to choose from in fine fast dining.

When you stray off the main interstates, though, there's a world of small towns with character dotted through the state highways. I never appreciated this when I was growing up in Beaumont, surrounded by small towns and tall trees, where Houston was The City, and Austin was Mecca. JJ has given me a new appreciation for them, especially ones I have to drive a fur piece to get to. I am a driving fool, apparently.

(So get out your atlas, my Evil Friend, and follow along.)

We left Houston (more properly, Cracker Barrel Restaurant - priorities!) around 9:30 in the morning, well-fed and ready to travel up 59. Once past the Kingwood suburb, I realized I had never travelled this section of road, despite living in Houston alomst 10 years, and close to Houston all my life. We meandered up to Cleveland, and into the edges of the Sam Houston National Forest. Big whoop, trees. Cleveland is a junction of several roads, which is how most small towns seem to have sprung up. The main neat thing about the area is it's about 20 minutes from the town of Cut and Shoot. Really. So on to Livingston and the lake. This is a favorite vacation spot for my hometown folks, but again, we never bothered to go there. I was itching for a view of the lake, because there IS access to the lake for poor people like us who can't afford lakefront property, but we had to move on and I can always go back. We did wonder, as we passed the golf course, whether we were still close enough to Houston for this economy to be dependent on the big H. Houston's influence spreads far, for sure. When you see wee towns up in the woods with "Welcome Back Rocket!" signs heralding Roger Clemens' return to the Astros, you know Houston is felt all over the state.

On to Moscow, Texas, which we almost missed blinking, and then Diboll and Lufkin. Somewhere in that stretch is the Timber Industry, which is a good place to find it, being surrounded by trees and all. Tall pine trees that, in places, have managed to keep out the sun for decades. And believe me, some of the people look as though they've not seen the sun as well. Between the tree farms and the National Forests, we're driving in a teeny valley of road between mountains of trees on either side. Towns look as though they were carved out of the surrounding trees, or asteroids cleared space for them years ago. Most towns in Texas look purposeful, but this stretch looks as though people settled where they dropped from exhaustion. Imagine hacking through that forest without bulldozers. Ugh.

Lufkin is certainly civilized enough to have a clean grocery store restroom and, I notice, another Sonic Drive In next to it. Let me say, Sonic is essential for road trips for me. Must. Have. Large. Coke. So appropriately restocked and refreshed, we're on the road again. State park here, state park there, and look! Another state park! Thank heaven JJ isn't the kind who has to stop at every Point of Interest (I swear in Texas they're labelled that way on highway signs) because it's about 2 p.m. when we pull into Jacksonville and I'm starving. In and out of the Love's Lookout, and we're off to Tyler. And Subway, and ergo, salvation. Except JJ's sandwich is better than mine, and I hate that, though it's nice that he shares. And all the Little Critter wants is a salad, except then there's a cookie and chips and bottled raspberry water and jeepers, we dropped well over $25 in there! Budget blown in 5 hours, and we're gone for three days.

The rest of the trip I've recorded from that day, except we pull into Gainesville and JJ's mom calls and says: "Oops, the hotel made the reservation for the wrong weekend." HUH? So we're now going to be in a motel around the corner from the hotel everyone else is staying in, and I completely lose it. At this point it's 6:00 p.m. and I really wanted to check in, unpack, chill out, eat, and then go see the family for a bit. Instead we're off to Gram's where JJ and his mom leave the LC and me while they go deal with the motel. I am now approaching lividity. I love these people but for Pete's sake, I've had a long long drive, of which I've done most of the driving, and I'm not up to a full-bore reunion yet. The poor LC is the only young child there, and obviously bored, but we sit thorough it and chat and smile and wait for JJ to return and tell us yes, we do have a room for the night, and we'll move to the other hotel the next day. I had nightmare visions of sleeping on Gram's couch, and I'm temporarily supremely grateful at this news.

Lesson learned: make all your own travel arrangements. Then you know who to yell at when it goes to crap.

Back at the motel, we're stumbling in and realize, hey! Dinner! We forgot! So we discover there's another Sonic nearby (YAY!) and Wendy's and McDs and Taco Bell. I end up with just a caramel banana split from Sonic, and get the other two fed, and then we can collapse.

Except (there's always an "except" isn't there?) that the motel has the under-the-window cooling unit which cuts on and off at irregular intervals, keeping me up all night until I run out of wrecked sleep at 7 and wake with a contact ripped in two in my eye.

At this point, I am approaching a Very Dangerous Mood. And JJ is already three weeks into the doghouse for something else, and I can feel this whole trip is going to sit very heavily on his shoulders unless it gets better in a hurry.

Texas is Big, and other little known facts; Part One

I was just in San Antonio a few weeks ago, doing the political thing. Now, Houston to San Antonio isn't the prettiest drive, but it is fast, and I did it in about 2.5 hours, a family record. Easy peasy to do when nobody else in the car is screaming "I'm Huuuuunnnnnngry!" or "I have to GOOOOO!" Easier still when said offenders are at home still in bed when I creep out of the house and drive away, laughing maniacally at my escape.

But last weekend JJ's aunt died after a long cancer bout, and so there was another trip we needed to make, all the way up to the Oklahoma border. JJ has this incredibly huge family, and for some weird reason, they all like each other, and are nice to each other and stuff. Who knew? So of course we want to be there to say goodbye and catch up on everything everyone is doing.

JJ wants to avoid the obvious, ugly drive up 45 to Dallas, and instead backroad it the way his family did when he was young. Okay, that's all right. We'll just give the Little Critter a portable DVD for her birthday and plug her in. And plan for stops along the way for food, relief, and stretching. We'll be smart! We'll pack books, movies, food, toys; we'll be the Most Prepared People. Ever.

Yeah. More on that later.

Anyway, one place JJ REALLY wanted to stop in was in Jacksonville. Love's Lookout is breathtaking, for East Texas, and has undergone all sorts of renovations since JJ was young, making it imperative that we take our time gawking. I would gladly have been agawk had I 1) not just been awakened from a nap and 2) been scared spitless at the HUGE lightning explosion RIGHTOVERMYHEAD at the top of this ridge. That cut my time out in nature short, but JJ crawled over the wall and down into the valley a little. Good thing his insurance is paid up.

We liked going through Tyler. I especially liked Tyler in the daytime, because the last time I had been in Tyler was, well, in the middle of the night and under extreme stress. That was Hurricane Rita's Evacuation Nightmare, which I will share with you soon in this, the beginning of Hurricane Season 2006, where every cloud in the Gulf of Mexico is scrutinized extremely closely just in case it might be a Hurricane Sneaking Up On New Orleans to Finish The Job and flood Houston with everyone else who isn't here yet. Yeah.

So on we go through Greenville and Sherman, and through all these little baby towns where the heifer population is out in force, but no humans to be seen. In Mineola, there's a little radio station with the call letters KMOO. Really. So I figure cattle are so numerous they need their own radio station, and I've seen every cow between the Gulf and the Red River. Not even close. Over ever small ridge is another huge cow convention, and I'm getting a little paranoid. Too many Gary Larson cartoons, I guess. But then the next ridge brings a beautiful farmhouse and a gorgeous fifty acre spread, and when I ask JJ "Hey! Can I have that?" He replies "That's an invitation to a tornado. Engraved." So my whole dream of settling down out here somewhere east of Dallas is shattered because damn, that wind can kill you. That is, if the cows don't.

Red Fish, Blue Fish

One hour. One stinking hour in the sun was all I asked. I. Am. Toast.

Except maybe toast actually browns at some point, whereas I achieve the subtle glow of a nuclear reactor leaking at midnight.

I do this damned sunburn thing once a year and swear never to do it again. And I always do; like Lucy and the football, the afternoon at the pool calls to me.

So if I can get a pic of my red-hot (literally) cleavage, I'll post it. Or my shoulders. That'll make you squirm.

Oh, and the bad news is it's been 10 days without the Bigun and no word from the Army or her about where exactly she is. My mom has already called and pissed them off about it, but she learned about that inertia thing pretty quickly. She keeps asking "What if they LOSE her, Fish?" To which I SO want to reply "Thanks, Mom. I hadn't considered that yet on my list of things to freak out about. So glad you freaking reminded me of that one. What would I do without you."

On the bright side, there are three tubs of ice cream in my freezer. That's gotta be worth something.

UPDATE: The Bigun called her grandmother and gave her the address. The great thing is that apparently she is having the time of her life. She loves it! WHO KNEW!!?!

Party Animal II

So this weekend was another trip to San Antonio (I LOVE San Antonio for conventions!) for the Texas Republican Party Convention. Three and a half days submerged in Party politics. Fish was in Heaven.

Thursday was an all-day seminar on Grassroots Training, and I learned so much. I was ready to find the candidate whose campaign I had worked on (and who had lost) and press him for his next election plans. At the end of it all, I had a few new friends, a passion to get back into campaign mode, and more information than I could possibly retain. SO worth the extra day and $10.

Thursday night brought a look at a candidate who is running for Tom DeLay's seat. So far the count is up to 8, I think, on the Republican side. This one has a record and speaks well, and so she may turn out to be the favorite. Interestingly, though, the candidacy will not be filled in a primary election. If memory serves, precinct chairs in the district will choose the nominee to run against the Democrat in November. Strange how Texas GOP party rules can get!

Friday was a full day, with the general session opening around 11. Speech after speech, some boring, some inspiring. You do have to sit through the boring ones to get to the energizing, inspiring, thrilling ones. When they get boring, you network and schmooze and meet people. Or go shopping. The exhibitors always have boothfulls of merchandise, from the tackiest to the most precious. This year I didn't make the booths. Networking took precedence this year.

One of the benefits of volunteering for a position as secretary to the earlier convention is the marvelous seat in the front row of the district caucus. When we broke out to our Senate Districts, my seat was #3. Yeehaw! And right next to me were the other officers and party long-timers, who just love to sit and whisper gossip and bits of information to newbies like me. Plus, seated providentially right behind us were three elected officials or candidates; candidate for judge, judge, and our very own state Senator. All of whom ALSO like to chit-chat during caucus business. I had a great time chatting them up. This is the heart of networking. Getting people who hold some position of influence to remember you when you run for something.

There was one moment when I did something kind of unexpected. The chair, not always a stickler for rules, went off on a tangent when answering a question, and I called him on it in front of the assembly. What he seemed to be saying was inappropriate, and nobody else was stopping him (probably because they've recognized the futility of it) and so I piped up and told him I thought he was out of order. At which point he backed off and apologized. Turns out we were missing each other on what he was saying, but it was still not appropriate, and I said so. Which brought me a few pats on the back later in the day back in general session. Oddly, people have no trouble taking me seriously after something like that.

Saturday was back to caucus and then to the floor. The senator had bought breakfast for everyone, so people were in high spirits. And this senator isn't one who says what he thinks you want to hear. I got to chat more with him, and he answers some tough questions with "I know this isn't going to make me the most popular guy in this room, but..." and explains how the system works here or there. He has solutions to a few Texas Legislature problems, but not enough support to make them happen. So, maybe we work for a few other senator candidates?

Funniest thing I noticed: the most powerful district in Texas (George Bush I's district way long ago) was shunted to the back corner of the convention hall. They ALWAYS sit up front. What happened? I asked. The candidate they elected for State Senate won his primary with 70% of the vote in a 4-way race. Against 3 former officeholders. He is NOT Party Machine Approved. So all his folk were in the corner. Funny, yes, because that will tick them off and they'll continue to elect people who don't toe the party line. Ya gotta love GDIs!

All of which to say, here's what I decided. I want to be the party woman from my district. Most of the people who go to convention right now are in their fifties or so. Those people have worked for years within the party, so naturally they run things. My goal is to grab younger people and get them in, and to eventually be on the state executive committee. So if I start now, I might be able to get there before I'm forty. And now that I've had that training, I know how, too.

Watch me now!