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.