The bigness of Texas

Not all heroes wear capes.  Some of them have commercial drivers licenses and operate luxury buses.  We used a service called Red Coach to get back and forth to San Antonio- it was the same outfit we used to get back and forth on our last journey to Austin.  It actually makes a ton of sense.  They get you one way for under $50, you don’t go to an airport, you buy no gas and you pay for no parking.  Also, you can watch a movie on the road or do a crossword or something with your partner, and nobody has to watch traffic or stress out over the other crazies on the highway.  

Today, our driver arrived in Richardson near the UTD campus, our selected drop off point, about an hour and a half late.  Not her fault.  It was a really crappy, rainy day and there were plenty of challenges on the path.  The near constant rain compounded the difficulty of getting from one part of Texas to the other.  Folks from other sates fail to grasp the bigness of Texas.  You can start in the geographical center of Texas and drive all day in any direction without ever leaving the state.  It’s huge. Google says it takes 11 hours and 54 minutes to get from the bottom tip of Texas (Brownsville) to the top of the panhandle.  It’s massive.  

Anyhow, we had a last hurrah in San Antonio before the journey North.  We woke up late and had what Cas has begun got call blunch.  It’s not really brunch.  Brunch is fancy and there are mimosas or something.  Blunch is breakfast that you took too long to get to- with hearty portions so you need no food for a long, long time after.  We went to Schilo’s, which is a partner restaurant with Casa Rio.  Fun fact, Schilo’s is the oldest restaurant in all of San Antonio.  We hit all the oldies but goodies on this trip  We had a German breakfast there, and swung past the Menger (which, I discovered is the oldest continuously operating hotel west of the Mississippi) on our way to the bus pick up spot.  I’m just grateful we weren’t on an old bus! 

But, we’re back.  We have a few things to square away, a celebration or two and it’s back to work until Spring Break hits and we get back on the road again.  Hopefully, we can make it out of Texas, though that often takes some effort.  Until next time, safe travels, everyone!  Here is a pretty cute shot of me and Cas next to an old Live Oak that sings just stage left of the Alamo.  Remember that place?   

Lazy day in San Antonio

There is something great about a day when you have no plans, no scheduled events and nothing tying you to a specific place at a particular time.  When you have a day like that after so many days that are exactly the opposite, you get a little confused.  Where should you go?  Who knows?  What should you do?  Who can say?  

It’s liberating.  It’s how we felt yesterday.  Disoriented- but with a smile. We started off by sleeping in, a luxury we don’t get often enough in Dallas.  After that, we were off to breakfast.  Our restaurant choice was driven by the quest to drink a cup of the very yummy Mexican hot chocolate we had last time we were around these parts.  The restaurant was about a mile away from our hotel, which made for a nice morning walk. When we got there, the line to put our names on the list was a ten minute affair, after which the wait list was about 45 minutes long.  It was well into lunchtime when we sat down to have our breakfast, but fortunately, Mi Tierra serves breakfast all day.  When we were finally seated, we ordered the Mexican hot chocolate first thing.  Apparently, it’s made in a big pot in the back of the restaurant, and the pot was empty when we arrived at our table.  We had to wait for a new batch to cook up.  So, we had a whole breakfast while we waited.  We watched a group seated after us pay the check and leave.  We watched the busboy clear the plates and get the space ready for the next occupants.  Finally, we got the hot chocolate.  First, it’s a good thing we were in no hurry.  Second, it was worth the wait.  We sat and enjoyed our beverages- apparently, they make this stuff by melting chocolate in warm milk.  I think they added some cinnamon and a little magic or something.  All in all, it was pretty great.  

We walked from there back to the hotel, where in an act of useless optimism, I had left my jacket.  Hey, I took that jacket everywhere on New Years Eve and didn’t need it.  So I left it at the hotel on New Years Day.  Also the wrong call…  No worries, because there were no hurries.  We got the jacket and decided to take an Uber to the Pearl district.  It’s where the old Pearl Beer factory used to be.  They’ve taken the bones of the old manufacturing site and turned it into a pretty neighborhood.  There were restaurants, bars, shops and a bookstore that had the audacity to be closed on New Years Day.  It was clearly where young families in San Antonio go out.  We were one of the few couples walking around without at least one toddler or dog.  We went into a spot for a glass of wine, admiring the way they repurposed the industrial elements as decor.  We stepped out to wander a bit, finding a spot where the patio was dotted with propane fire pits- a very nice touch.  We finally settled on a burger place for dinner.  Sam’s Burger Joint had personality to spare.  The walls were covered in license plates, posters from musicians, ads promoting long past concerts and autographed headshots.  I dined next to the autograph of Tom Petty.  We shared our booth with him, a trio of signatures from the members of ZZ Top, and a shot of Willie Nelson with an illegible signature on it. 

After that, we wanted to top off the stress free day with a little quiet time, so we headed back to the hotel and watched an episode of one of the shows we’d been streaming before hitting the hay.  Evidently, the whole world spent the waking hours of the day laser-focused on college football, and since we’re currently about 80 miles from Austin, there are folks around here with some pretty pronounced interest in the results of yesterday’s Sugar Bowl.  I looked it up- the Longhorns are all done for the season.  I’m kind of glad I wasn’t sitting at a bar somewhere when that result became final.  I’m sure there are plenty of broken hearts to go around.  There are really no low-stakes football games this time of year at the college or the professional level.  

Anyhow, as I get ready to head to the hotel gym this morning, I suspect there are plenty of folks who drowned their sorrows last night.  Perhaps there will be precious little company at the elliptical machines and treadmills while I squeeze in a morning workout on the way out of town.  For me though, it’s time to get moving.  As much as the Menger is interesting and historically significant I do miss my own mattress.  One more San Antonio Morning, then it’s back on the luxury bus and a restful ride back to Dallas.  See you on the road!

Happy new year!

We started New Years Eve slowly with a little hotel gym workout and a stroll to the oldest restaurant on the Riverwalk.  Casa Rio, as I mentioned yesterday, holds that distinction.  We got there before the major lunch rush and ended up at the very first table by the river under one of the iconic colored umbrellas.  If you Google the riverwalk, the umbrellas you’ll probably see in any resulting image will be from Casa Rio.  And if you do happen to find yourself seated right there by the water, you will hear every single passing boat tour guide tell his or her participants that Casa Rio is the oldest restaurant on the riverwalk.  We heard that from high pitched voices, low ones, ones with no enthusiasm, ones with foreign accents.  Hey- did you know that Casa Rio is the oldest restaurant on the riverwalk?  

We nearly asked to be moved several tables down river so we could hear the next fact.  Regardless, the food was kind of amazing.  The tamale, the enchilada, the rice and the beans felt a little like comfort food.  It was proper, classic Tex-Mex- no new groundbreaking recipe there.  I certainly hope not.  We both went for “The Regular Plate, a favorite since 1946.”  With a menu promise like that, you want an old standard.  It also comes with Chili con Carne, which is completely amazing.  With the promise of the original recipe from the Chili Queens who served it in San Antonio’s plazas in the 1800s, you pretty much have to try it.  I figure some things endure because they’re just that good.  After the regular plate with the Chili Queen chili on it, we wandered back toward The Menger, which is right next door to the Alamo.  Remember that place?  

We had pre-booked a guided tour, and with it, we got a tour guide.  This time around, we had a young woman named Summer with a degree in anthropology who essentially taught my whole seventh grade history class in one hour-long tour.  While she was a good deal quicker than Mrs. O’Neal at North Junior High, she wasn’t a whole lot more compelling.  She stood next to a glassed-in model of the Alamo grounds and gave a 20-minute talk culminating in the attack that Santa Ana’s regimen perpetrated on the grounds of this former Spanish mission.  There were elementary-aged kids in the tour group who sat on the ground, and one absolutely laid down.  Summer forged ahead, explaining the style of government Mexico had and how Santa Ana dismantled it in favor of what was a de facto dictatorship.  Oof.  But the tour was, overall, a win, and we got a pretty good look at the Alamo.  We also got into the relatively new building off to the side where all of the collected artifacts were stored.  That’s when we were reminded about Phil Collins.  Yes, that Phil Collins.  Susudio.  Invisible touch.  In the air tonight.  The Genesis guy and apparent Alamo enthusiast.  He had a massive collection of Alamo artifacts, and he donated them all to this museum.  He also did a narrated thing for a display.  It was a huge diorama of the grounds, and as the aging rock star talked about different parts of the battle, a light would shine there to illuminate the spot where the action took place.  It was kind of surreal.  

After that, we had a little time to kill.  We did a little riverwalk strolling and spent a moment back at the hotel, looking over weather reports and adjusting our sweaters and jackets for the evening.  The weather app was a little misleading, in fact.  We overdressed for our river trip.  Regardless, we arrived at Paisano’s, which is the Italian restaurant that was hosting the New Years Eve river cruise dinner.  We were directed to sit at the bar until the boat was ready to board, and it loaded about 30 minutes late.  We got on, which included us sitting at a long table with many other couples, then we got our drinks and appetizer orders all sorted out.  From there, we went once around, sipping Prosecco and listening to a tour guide explain the features of the Riverwalk.  Hey, did you know that Casa Rio is the oldest restaurant on the Riverwalk?  The more you know…

When the river dinner came to it’s final lap, we had enjoyed a very nice meal.  There was a pear and cranberry salad with Gorgonzola cheese, a fancy shrimp appetizer and a very good pasta with shrimp, scallops, mussels and a half of a lobster tail finished off with a flourless chocolate cake.  When we got up after that dinner, we needed a little walkabout time just to burn a few calories.  We took off to Hemisfair Park, the site of the 1968 World’s Fair.  They have the inevitable tall observation deck building on a stick, as so many cities do.  Perhaps we’ll peer out from the top of that stick later today.  We entered the park, and the closest thing I can equate the atmosphere to would be the carnival-style midway at the state fair.  By the way, the midway is my least favorite part of the state fair.  There were innumerable booths, food trucks and the constant thrum of Tejano music.  I felt like I was at the tail end of every homecoming dance I have ever had to chaperone as a high school teacher in a predominantly Latino school.  I am certain it was all the correct mood for their target audience, just as I am certain I was not in that demographic.  I felt a little too old for it all.  Cas and I headed back to the hotel, as we’d predicted the possibility we’d want an alternative.  We had a half-sized bottle of Prosecco stashed in our hotel room fridge, and that became the best sounding option for the midnight toast.  But just when you feel a little old, welcome to the lobby of the Menger!  There was a piano player there with an assembled, dressed up crowd of decidedly older revelers.  The general mood of the hotel lobby reminded me a little of the polka band that played at my grandpa’s wedding to my step-grandma in the mid ‘80s.  There was a police officer posted there who looked absolutely tortured with boredom.  We took a chance and popped our heads into the Menger bar for a moment, found our same amazing seats (despite a pretty good crowd!) and had one round of very tasty lemon drops before last call happened at 11.  That was just about right to get us to the room and to our half-bottle or Prosecco before midnight, when we toasted with plastic cups while laughing at the sounds of the chicken dance song (I know, right!) filtering up from the lobby.  

But even a lounge act knows when it’s time to play Auld lang syne and lift a glass.  So, cheers, everyone!  It’s 2024, and we’re headed out for a very late morning breakfast in San Antonio.  We’ll have one more night at the historic Menger hotel, then it’s back to Dallas, back to reality and time to disassemble the Christmas tree and get back to work. Happy new year, folks!  

Raise a glass to Robert Hugman!

Apparently, a horrible flood in 1921 started the ball rolling and put the city of San Antonio on the path to its current Riverwalk.  That’s when they started taking seriously about damming up the dangerous waterway.  The work began on the dam and bypass channel in 1926, but it was three years later when someone looped in an architect named Robert Hugman, who drew up a plan for a riverwalk.  From there, it was a pushy mayor and a city bond issue- oh, and nine years of wait time- before the San Antonio River Beautification Project launched in earnest. The architect built his office there.  Over many years, more things arrived.  The first restaurant, Casa Rio, opened in 1946, the Hilton Palacio Del Rio went up in 1968.  It’s been a century or so since they fixed their flooding river, and I believe the San Antonio tourism industry owes a great debt of gratitude to Architect Robert Hugman.  Nobody really raises a glass to a heroic architect, do they?  Well, they should.  

We made our way from our amazing hotel to the inevitable Riverwalk last night, spending a lot of our time on the street level.  When we finally selected a spot to be down at the river level, we took the stairs.  Wow, that was a lot of people.  We were trying to head to a place called The Bridge Bar, but when we got there, the music was as loud as it was bad, and the crowd picked that moment to swell in size.  We crossed to the other side on one of those pretty foot bridges, walked a little, then headed back up top.  Time for a little stroll on the streets. 

That can be interesting, too.  There are scads of horse-drawn carriages, all lit up with twinkle lights in pink and purple and decorated with silk flowers.  We joked about how a Barbie doll and Cinderella may have conspired to create these things.  Next, of course, were the low riders.  Self-styled car parades went around the city, and for the life of me, I can’t imagine why.  There was a line of low rider cars with hydraulic lifts bouncing themselves up in the front and back, lifting themselves at impossible angles sideways and otherwise delighting mostly baffled folks walking around the sidewalks.  Additionally, there were, of course, Japanese sporty racers, souped up trucks, motorcycles and other cruisers parading around.  God help any hapless tourist trying to navigate to a hotel parking lot in all of that.  

We spent a little more time strolling, making our way to our pre-selected dinner destination, a bizarre place called the Biergarten down at the river level.  The indoor decor featured many beer steins, a statue of who I can only imagine is Samuel Adams, a moose head on the wall and a few artificial flameless fireplaces interspersed with powerful fans.  The service was mediocre; the decor was… interesting.  The food was very good, though.  We shared a combination platter with different kinds of German sausage.  It was the best, but also the wurst.  I can’t help it- I have to make those jokes, and I’m not even sorry.  

After we wrapped that up, we headed back up top for a few more gawking looks at the parade of transportation methods cruising the streets, winding up with a side trip to the Maverick Distillery.  It was so quiet in there that it nearly felt abandoned.  A nice change from the bustling streets, if you ask me.  We each had a seat, selected a pair of their specialty cocktails and took a few sips just before the bartender let us know whey were closing soon.  Man- just when you find a spot.  Nobody rushed us, though.  We took the time we felt was appropriate and walked out to return to our hotel.  But we approached the Menger from the side, and the best point of entry on that side was the Menger Bar.  Ain’t that a shame?  We went in, and as if by magic, the couple sitting in the very best two seats was about to leave.  The lady offered me the spot right in front of the Carrie Nation hatchet spot.  Well, now we have to stay.  I sat right in front of the spot where they had to replace a chunk of wood because famous temperance activist Carrie Nation smashed the bar top with her signature hatchet.  Nation was her name from her second marriage.  Her first, apparently was to an alcoholic who drank himself to death.  I looked that up, too, as I really wondered about her motivations.  

Cas was to my right, and nearest to the famed Teddy Roosevelt bullet holes.  Those are from his storied recruitment of Rough Riders when he apparently fired off his weapon as an attention-gaining move.  I bet that worked.  

The whole bar is, apparently, an exact replica of the bar at the House of Lords in the UK, and it’s actually quite beautiful.  

But it’s now New Years Eve, and we’re just getting up and rolling.  We have timed entry tickets to see the inside of the Alamo later today, and we have a dinner cruise on the river this evening.  Maybe we can raise a glass to Robert Hugman!  In the meantime, we’re off.  See you in 2024!

The Historic Menger Hotel

Coming to you live from the historic Menger Hotel in San Antonio, Texas!  Whew.  It’s been a heckuva December.  My dad had his second bit of surgery in two months, and being an excellent daughter, I was there for waiting room detail.  We had school right up until the edge of the Christmas holiday- just a weird result of how the calendar worked out this year.  Christmas Day was a Monday, so they let us out on early release the Friday before.  Out at 1:30 on the 22nd isn’t exactly the easiest time for teachers to get things ready, wrap gifts, decorate the house or bake a single freakin’ cookie.  I know, most folks think teachers have it pretty easy, but guess what?  We get used to having two weeks off at Christmas, and when they don’t hit just right, we notice.  

We hosted Christmas Eve for my side of the family at our house, followed by Christmas Day at Cas’ brother’s house and a very small but lovely wedding at Cas’ mom’s house later that week.  She finally married the man she’s spent the past few decades with, and by golly, it was pretty sweet.  

But pile all of that into a month with work and life and everything else, and you earn yourself a little vacation.  Cas and I don’t give each other tangible gifts- at least not that often, and when we do, they’re usually toys or treats.  Never really jewelry or perfume or something.  This year, we gave each other a trip to San Antonio for New Year’s Eve.  We just checked in to the Historic Menger Hotel, but our room wasn’t ready right on time, so they gave us a pair of vouchers for free drinks at the Menger Bar.  We were going to go there anyway.  It’s absolutely riddled with history.  The whole darn hotel is, in fact.  More on that later.  

But we just got here, and we have dinner on the Riverwalk tonight.  Tomorrow, we’ll remember the Alamo.  Again.  But that’s all you get for now.  We have to go have adventures!  Here’s to a celebration with just me and Cas, no weddings, hospitalizations or hosting family in our house.  Sure, the wedding and the family stuff was great; sure, the hospitalization worked out very well, but we need a little down time with just me and my guy and a city to explore!  Like I said, more later.  

Adventure!

Jeff and Reema aren’t entirely unpacked, but they have officially moved in to a house in Austin, TX. Will I forgive them for moving away? Jury’s still out. Will I visit? Certainly. Will my amazing husband scheme with them and figure out an awesome Labor Day weekend event to celebrate my birthday? Turns out, yes. To that end, we arrived in Austin on Saturday via a “luxury coach” (big, red bus) that deposited us a block and a half from our hotel. 

Saturday night, he got the old band back together, so to speak. It was me, Cas, Jeff, Reema and our old pals from the Italy trip, Jon and Nicci. He also got my dad and my other brother, Dan to join the party. Cas and I met up with Jon and Nicci first, stopping at a tiki bar on Sixth Street. A pair of zombies later (rum+juice+fire, for some reason), we were off to another spot. Dad and Dan showed up and trekked with us, eventually heading to Jon and Nicci’s favorite Italian place in downtown Austin. 

More adventuring and a little walkabout landed us at a hotel bar, mostly because the really happening spots were loud and filled with recently released football fans from the UT/Rice game. We stuck around there until it was time to head to one of my Austin favorites, Esther’s Follies. It’s often risqué, sometimes raunchy and always hilarious. Part vaudeville, part magic show and part musical theater, Esther’s is something I came to appreciate decades ago when I would attend a teaching conference with my mom in the springtime.  

The show was a blast, and afterwards, we were all tired.  It may have something to do with the fact that we picked the late show, and it started at nine. For us, it was back to the hotel, down for the count and up for a morning workout on Sunday. We’d developed a last minute plan to head to the LBJ presidential library, but the timing didn’t work. No worries; we’ll be back. Instead, we headed to Jeff’s house. We hadn’t seen it yet, so a trip there was in the offing. Besides, I’m certain their dog missed us. Upon further investigation, I can safely say he did. Fritz is a big, dopey German shepherd who would trip over his own tail if it was long enough. What he lacks in intellect, he makes up for with his uncanny ability to be in the exact wrong place at the exact wrong time. Regardless, he had to give me and Cas a good sniff, so it was clearly a command performance. 

From Jeff and Reema’s house, we went to the Oasis on Lake Travis. I love the Oasis. They call themselves the sunset capital of Texas. The place has terraced balconies, and they all aim toward the setting sun. The blockade of large umbrellas is gradually removed as the sun sinks lower in the sky, so by the time of actual sunset, everyone can see. And everyone claps when the sun dips all the way down. They used to ring a bell to mark the event- not sure when they stopped doing that. 

Here’s the whole dang crew: 

And that brings us back to doe. We’re on our luxury coach, headed back to Dallas.  Something happens when you travel and meet new people. You pick up things and add their words to your vocabulary. You assimilate pieces of language and expressions. You become a proper Star Trek Borg, and you add the words to your own collective- resistance is futile. Nicci gave us the habit of enthusiastically saying,“Adventure!” when heading off to play. That was this weekend. Adventure! I’ll hop back on here in a while and update when Cas makes a photo album, but until then, have adventures of your own, and we’ll catch up next time! 

Okay, okay- we’ll go back to work

It’s certainly time to head back to Dallas and get back to work.  I know it seems crazy-headed how school starts earlier each year.  This time around, the kids come back on August 14th.  I have to go in on August 3rd.  That was a concession the District made- on the original calendar, the teacher return date was August 1st.  Unconscionable.  I know.  All I can say is it’s a darn good thing I like my job.  

So, with that in mind, we’ve jammed our dirty t-shirts into our backpacks and we’re headed out of the hotel door in a few.  Yesterday was the big reunion.  I saw again or met for the first time a whole bunch of my dad’s cousins.  There was way too much food, complete with cousin Rita’s homemade pies made with the berries her husband picked.  Most of the folks present were in my dad’s generation, but there were a few younger than me.  That part of the day was really not for me, though.  It was for Dad and his siblings to catch up with the cousins they saw every summer as children.  My grandpa was a teacher, and for two weeks every summer, he’d load up all of his kids in Rochester to head to the farm in Indiana.  

After the cousin time, Cas and I needed to decompress a little, and a few folks were talking seriously about a nap.  It’s been a big weekend.  We all went our separate ways for a bit, returning for a meal and a fireworks show.  Apparently, Jane and Doug were the ones setting off the rather impressive display out in the field.  I was back at a safe distance with other observers.  Regardless, it was a whole lot of fun.  Cas has some photos of the fireworks, and I am sure they’ll get into the photo album- they were from a roadside stand, and they were really elaborate and impressive.  

But, like I said, we’re headed back now- mission accomplished.  We discussed the trip, and we agreed on the following:

Best part: The Cubs game

Most surprising thing: The burlesque dancer

Best food: three way tie between the potato pancakes, the Chicago style hot dog and the very fresh Indiana corn on the cob

And because there’s always a photo in these things, enjoy the very green drive we took to dad’s cousin’s house:

We just have to give back a rental car, head to the airport and return to our regularly scheduled lives.  This was a fun trip, and I am happy to have seen everyone.  Until next time, folks- and of course, enjoy the photos: https://tinyurl.com/DunlapChicago