TEXAN INTERLUDE

Enjoyed a recent trip to Texas hill country near San Antonio. On cue, Michigan weather turned to crap almost to the minute of leaving.  One would hate to travel to a warmer clime in January if Michigan weather was not trash come to think of it.  Of course that led to departure anxiety that the plane would not leave on time.  I tend to cut it close on connection times. Sitting nervously thinking about the connection in Detroit that "WE WERE NOT GOING TO MAKE" I was, however, able to enjoy a plane wash of pure de-icer fluid.  Do you know how long it takes to wash an entire jet liner?  Well, less time than you think actually.

Off the ground straight up and then straight down as Detroit and GR are not really far away from each other by air.  It is still winter in Detroit though and the landing was extremely exciting as the plane slid down to the farthest reaches of the longest runway trying to stop.  From what I could ascertain reversed engines, flaps flapping and the pilots dragging their feet finally brought us to a dramatic halt.  Emergency chutes being deployed were not necessary and we taxied calmly to the gate. Clocks ticking as the pilot gleefully reports that we are a little ahead of schedule. Oh sure.

Those familiar with flying into Detroit Metro from smaller cities know the famous psychedelic underground tunnel that connects the two terminals because, of course, the first plane never gates at the same terminal as their big sister jets.  Thus the frantic rolling walk one perfects on the moving sidewalks while music and an artistic, colorful and moving motif is displayed on the walls.  Something to contemplate and enjoy if one is not skimming the surface at breakneck speed trying to get to the other terminal.  After riding the gigantic escalator we reach the right terminal and realize our gate is wayyyyyy down at the other end.  More frantic walk-run ensues ending with a quick stop at the gate only to discover the flight has been delayed 20 minutes. Really, how anti-climatic.

Though seated in the "economy plus" (extra charge) seats near the front of the plane, I enjoy the sight of the first class passengers a seat ahead receiving "hot breakfast" with real china and silver. Certainly a contrast to my free cup of coffee and 2 oz bag of pretzels tossed my way. For heaven's sake, show some class and close that flimsy, see through curtain separating the elite from steerage. Ah well we all end up a the same destination and we were picked up by a Cadillac owned by our friends so I enjoy my own level of snobbery.  Oddly enough there was only one other Cadillac that passed us as we waited as most of our southern neighbors (and that includes Cincinnati) drive foreign cars like Hyundai and Subaru.   Go figure.

For those not familiar with Texas it contains several different climates and landscapes from temperate to seashore to plains to outright desert along the Rio Grande.  Our destination was the hill country around San Antonio where fortunately we did not have to "rely on the kindness of strangers". Good friends had rented a condo for a month and graciously allowed us room and board.  Containing two bedrooms and two bathrooms guaranteed separation of funkiness, midnight walks and personal space.  The four of us spent our days in "touristy" activities centering mainly on visiting vineyards which are prevalent in the hill country.  Also had the opportunity to visit my first Presidential museum and "alternate" White House.  Apparently wherever a Pres takes a break from the frenzy of Washington becomes the temporary seat of power.

President Johnson, by the guide's estimate, spent about 25% of his time ruling the country from his ranch near Johnson City (not named for him we discovered but for a relative of James Polk).  Several gleefully related that the big guy (Johnson) used the ranch as a sort of benevolent prison where he could isolate both domestic and foreign leaders to "sell" his agenda.  At 6'4" intimidation was part of his arsenal.  However the ranch house itself was rather cozy and I felt like I could move right in and be comfortable.  There were televisions and phones everywhere and in every room. In fact the first remote control color television was installed in his home office where he constantly adjusted the channel from his desk.  He only watched the news, although sweet fact - Lady Bird had a thing for James Arness and Gunsmoke so her sitting room was tuned a different way....

 Sobering piece of history. A dinner party was planned there on November 22, 1963 with guests arriving from Dallas later that day.  As the kitchen staff were preparing the meal, they tuned into the  news coverage of the motorcade and thus saw the horrible history-changing footage that vaulted Johnson to the presidency.  The kitchen clock was stopped at 1:00 that day and has never been restarted.

One of the entertaining features of our visit to hill country, was driving around.  Holy Macaroni! They "got's" some hills.... and valleys... and canyons... and drop-offs. Built around the meandering rivers surrounding the area the breathtaking elevations of the roads were only surpassed by the surprising hairpin curves that popped up frequently throughout any drive.  The flood gauges that decorated any low spot were a sobering indicator what can happen after a major rain.  In Michigan, we'd just build a bridge, but things are different in Texas.  Another interesting fact that I never got a clear answer for was every house, ranch, trailer was surrounded by fencing and a locked gate.  Hmmm. Keeping the public out or the inmates in  (well there are a lot of cows).

Also I am convinced that much like Florida, many of the residents are from "somewhere else"! Especially during the wine tastings, our host would have a very distinct Midwestern accent.  I of course asked and collected people from Illinois, Iowa, Michigan (Owosso), etc.  The reason was always the same.  Came down here for a visit and stayed.  However most restaurants were staffed with the true genuine southern article and so polite.  Please, thank you and your welcome Ma'am or Sir jarred a bit when we returned to Michigan where a thank you is met with a "no problem".  Well I should hope not.