Ah, the Feeling of Summer

With tomorrow being June 1st, I have a feeling of anticipation, of excitement.

I always do, every since . . . well, every since I was a kid, I guess. For me, as a child, summer was the most exciting time of the year. It wasn't Christmas, wasn't my birthday, or anything like that. It was summer . . . because summer meant school was done . . . for a couple of months, at least.

It's funny that I still have a sense of excitement and anticipation, many years after my final day of school, with June being one calendar day away.

As a kid, summer also meant getting to stay up late and watch baseball. It normally meant going to a Texas Rangers game, or two, or three. And when I was younger, summer meant playing baseball. Pretty much, to me summer = baseball.

The Texas Rangers have always been my team. Win or lose, rain or shine, through thick and through thin, I have been right there with them. Through division championships, through relievers throwing chairs into the stands, through no-hitters and perfect games (I was at Kenny Rogers'!!!), through Oil Can Boyd, through having first-half leads to fading back after the All-Star break, through it all, I've been there.

Fortunately, I was also at one of the biggest World Series games ever to be played in Arlington.

The idea of the Rangers playing in a World Series has been laughable for most of my life. The Rangers are the lovable losers, the "Aw shucks, we'll get 'em next time" team. The fact that they played and had a really good shot (it still hurts) at winning a championship still blows me away because just like I dreamed about summer for nine months out of the year, I also dreamed about the Rangers playing in a World Series.

But just like summer eventually came around on the calendar, the Rangers also eventually had some World Series success:

And like so many things in life that we dream about, it was . . . well . . . awesome.

I had the unbelievable fortune of being able to be at Games 3 & 4 of the '11 World Series. Game 3 was not too much fun, on the Rangers side. But Game 4 was incredible. I still have the front page of the newspaper hanging in my office, commemorating what a historical game it was.

It's fun . . . and fulfilling, in a way, to be able to actually see something that we have hoped and dreamed about come to fruition. The World Series being played in Arlington actually happened.

And once again, just like it does every year, at midnight tonight, June will happen.

Food Is Good

When my wife and I travel, we tend to base our experiences off of what food is available and what food we consume.

I don't think that's really right or wrong. But I do think it's rather unique.

When others look through our travel photos, they either laugh or remark how good of an idea it is that we take so many photos of  the food we eat. And as we think back over our travel, we tend to rate our trips based upon how good the food was.

So, with that in mind, a trip to Austin, Texas last year was really, really good.

My mouth waters just thinking about it. The top pic is from Juan in a Million in Austin. I wouldn't necessarily say it's the be breakfast taco I've ever had. But it's definitely the largest.

Then there's Kreuz's Market in Lockhart. Hands down, best barbeque brisket I have ever had. Wow. So good you don't even need any sauce. And that's a good thing because they don't serve it, anyway.

Then there's Lone Star Donuts in Round Rock. Yep, they make a donut that is that big. We didn't get it. But their regular-sized donut is out-of-this-world.

One could have a great trip to Austin just by eating their way through these places. And as you find with most great eateries, it's not just the food but also the experience, the charm of the place where you eat it that makes the experience what it is.

Hope

I have been fascinated with this picture for years:

The pic is from a trip to Big Bend State Park. It is taken somewhere in between Midland and Pecos, Texas . . . in other words, literally, in the middle of nowhere.

The landscape truly is indicative of those parts: barren and dry. One cannot get a feeling for how truly barren the landscape is without having actually been there. 

You can see for miles and miles, in all directions. In fact, if you look closely on the horizon, you will see a mountain range. The range is in Balmorrhea. I remembered at the time, though I have forgotten now. But I am sure those mountains are at least 50 miles from where the picture was taken. Still, the mountains provide hope that there is something different, something not-so-barren not too terribly far down the road.

Seems to be a good metaphor for life. We can easily feel barren and dry in our own lives, for a multitude of reasons. But it helps to have something on the horizon, calling us forward, calling us to continue traveling, giving us hope.

Keeping the Dream Alive

Something I love about travel is dreaming . . . 

For instance, I have a dream trip: fly into Rome, spend a couple of days, take a bus over to the eastern coast of Italy, ferry over to the Croatian coastal city of Dubrovnick, and then up to the city of Korcula.

It's a dream trip. Not sure if I'll ever make it. But, really, that's not the point. Having the dream is what keeps the energy and passion going.

Here's another dream:

While on a boat in Port Aransas, Texas last summer, I saw this island (in the foreground). Throughsome  research, I found out the island is uninhabited. A boat goes from the mainland to the island a couple of times a day. But no lives there. There are no restaurants, no hotels. Nothing. Just land.

My dream is to go spend a day on the island. Sounds like a wonderful way to spend the day.

Not sure if I'll ever make it. I'd like to. I hope to. But simply having that dream, researching it, having a passion for it . . . that seems to be enough to make the dream worthwhile.

Little Excursions

Big-time trips are fun.

They can expand our horizons. They can show us new ways of looking at life. They can expose us to kinds of foods we never imagined existed.

Going to far-away places is a good, good thing.

But for many of us, those types of trips are the exception, not the rule.

Because of that, we need to take advantage of day trips, places and sites that are close by. Little excursions can do the same thing that our "big" trips can, just on a smaller scale, on a different level.

When I lived in Fort Worth, a friend and I had always talked about going to Archer City, a city literally in the middle of nowhere. Archer City is about 100 miles northwest of the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex. Traveling there makes one feel as if they are really stepping out onto the western frontier.

The reason we wanted to go to Archer City was to visit an enormous bookstore. At the time, this bookstore filled four or five buildings in downtown Archer City. The bookstore had just about anything you could imagine wanted to buy.

Why was such an incredible bookstore located in Archer City? That is where famous American author, Larry McMurtry (of Lonesome Dove fame, among other great works), lives and runs his store. Up until recently, his bookstore, there, filled an entire city block. I read that he recently auctioned off and sold many of the items, though a good many still remain there.

My friend and I had always wanted to go see it. So one day we did. And while there, we had the most incredible discovery:

McMurtry, himself, was there that day. I had read that he did not like to bombarded at his store, by visitors, but that he was okay with taking the occasional picture or two (he's the one on the left, by the way!).

The chance encounter with McMurtry was nothing spectacular, in and of itself. He wasn't particularly friendly, didn't invite us over for coffee or tea, or anything like that. But simply meeting him was such an incredible surprise and treat.

The great experience did not happen on a trip to a far-away land, though it surely could have. It happened about less than two hours from home.

Those are the types of things that can happen . . . when we're open to them . . . when we take the time to step away, outside of our normal day-to-day lives . . . and travel.

Texas BBQ

I think I have come up with some good ways to measure good barbeque, Texas barbeque, real barbeque. In other words, brisket.

By far, the best brisket I have ever had is at Kreuz's in Lockhart. The brisket there is far and above anything else out there. There are still many places I want to try and many places I think could probably rival Kreuz's, like Franklin Barbeque in Austin, Snow's in Lexington, and Louie Muller in Taylor. But for now, Kreuz's is king in my book.

What sets Kreuz's apart is two things: it is so good that it truly does not need sauce (which is good because they don't serve any); and the meat is marbeled with the perfect amount of fat. It's not too fatty and not too lean. It's just right.

These things hit me as I tried out a barbeque place in town. It's called Bennie J's. I know it's awesome because when they answer the phone, they say, "Smoke Pit . . . "

Bennie J's is good, very good, in fact. It is no doubt better than most, definitely better than anything in town or probably anything in a sixty mile radius (the word on the street is Fargo's in Bryan is pretty dern tasty). The brisket at the Smoke Pit (Can I call it that, too? Probably not.) is good. I got it chopped; but next time, I'll get it sliced so I can get a little better feel for it. But the meat tastes good, nice and tender. The bun (yes, I opted for a sandwich this go around) is buttered and toasted nicely. And the fries are doubled-fried or something along those lines-very unique but good. My friend, Colter, says the sausage is really good. I think it's jalapeno sausage, so that might hold me back from trying it. But overall, the place is great, especially because, as Colter notes, your clothes smell like the restaurant for the rest of the day.

What holds it back from being top-notch is what sets Kreuz's, and very few other places, apart: sauce is necessary to eat it and it seems to be a little too lean. I'm curious what the sliced brisket looks like to see how much fat is on it.

So . . . if you're ever in the Huntsville area and have a hankerin' for some good barbeque, go to Bennie J's. To find it, just roll your window down and your nose will lead you to it.

"I Hate the Way I Watch Games"

That was a quote from one of the recent Sklarbro Country podcast episodes. Jason & Randy Sklar do a fine job of mixing comedy, sports, and all around awesomeness in their podcasts. I am particularly fond of the way they are confessional about their sports-watching.

They are huge University of Michigan football fans and St. Louis Cardinals fans (consequently, I have had to turn it off when they start talking about the Cards because it almost always comes around to the 2011 World Series, which almost always comes around to Game Six. Still ain't over it. Probably never will be.

Anyway, a number of times, they have talked about their passion (over-the-top passion) for sports. I completely understand what they are talking about. So on the episode that this quote comes from, they talk about their emotions while watching Wolverines football. They are either ecstatic over the way their team is playing . . . or furious over the way their team is playing. They noted that rarely, if ever, do their emotions have to do with the way the other team is playing.

That's so true, at least I know it is for me. When I watch games, my emotions rarely have anything to do with the other team. For instance, my normal way of doing things would be to go crazy when the Cowboys score tonight and to be furious when they give up a touchdown to the Giants tonight (I expect many of those). So when they lose (which is my prediction), I am prone to blame everything on the Cowboys, rather than praise the job the Giants did. Same goes for the Rangers. If they win tonight, it's because they're awesome. If they lose, it's because they're horrible, not because of the Royals' greatness. Well that may be a bad example. "Royals" and "greatness" doesn't really go all that well together.

I would do better to allow more for what happens from the other team, not just what happens to my team. Unless the Yankees are playing. The Yankees deserve no credit :)