To This, Our Noble Tie: Or, Houston Means I'm One Day Closer To Screwed
• There won't be a cute girl sitting next to you on the flight. Either of them. But really, is that so bad? Would you really have done anything? You're better off sitting next to an empty chair or the guy in his 40s who keeps pulling out a journal-ish looking book and writing in it. It's just easier.
• Houston afternoons are impossibly muggy, weighed down by the kind of oppressive heat that rubs your face raw like a pillow and ruins your clothes. And yes, the high heels would suck, as well as the constant makeup and having to live slightly underweight in order to be appreciated by an increasingly skewed society, but women also get to wear skirts to things like weddings, and I can only imagine the holy wonder of having a breeze constantly blowing up your legs and keeping you a little cooler. I'd put up with a stomach-restraining magic elastic waistband for the sheer joy of feeling air circulate around my thighs.
• Houston is the biggest city in Texas. That's probably the only redeeming thing to be said about it, and even that trait doesn't get you very far. I spent 72 hours in the city and saw nothing aside from endless acres of car dealerships, strip malls, and franchises, franchises, franchises. It's like Starbucks and Chili's got together and had a hellacious orgy and spewed their little baby restaurants across the coastal plain. I'm not saying there's nothing interesting in Houston, just that I covered a lot of ground and didn't see it.
• Going home to the place you used to live is always weird; what you once took for granted becomes foreign and surprising. The abundance of quality and affordable Mexican food, for instance. A lunch that would have run me $11-$12 in L.A. was $7.50 in Houston, and that's a wonderful thing to keep rediscovering on successive trips. Of course, it also works the other way: I'm always floored by the amount of pickups on the road and the sheer open space of everything.
• Seriously, Houston is hot.
• It's also always inherently weird to travel from a place where marriage is viewed as a risky option to be entered into cautiously to a place and culture where it's much more encouraged, especially among younger people, especially especially especially among younger people who grew up in some kind of church. Being 25 and single in L.A. makes you pretty much a normal face in the crowd; in some parts of Texas it makes you stand out. And it also makes your grandmother wonder if you're gay. Marriage is a good thing, but it's disorienting to pass from one realm into another with nothing but a plane ride. I think you should have to have a passport, or at least sit through an obligatory briefing on board your aircraft, before entering Texas or California. Just as a reminder.
• But there's a funny thing about that heat. In early summer, Texas nights are as warm as Los Angeles days, which makes for another in the long line of geographical disconnects, but Texas summer nights are damn beautiful things. The heat's burned off but the air is still warm, and while SoCal nights can be chilly or downright cold near the ocean, Texas midnights under the bruised but smog-free sky are never anything short of transcendant, with the countryside opening up and actual stars coming out for a few hours and everything generally feeling full of the possibilities that only punch-drunk twentysomethings can feel when the moon's out, and which will be clumsily erased by morning. Texas summer nights are easily one of the best things about the place, along with Rudy's Barbecue and the lack of a state sales tax. An old buddy of mine used to call it lawn time; grabbing some lawn time at dusk or late night is key to keeping your wits about you in Texas, to remembering that there are good things there that not even the heat and the humidity and the rednecks can take away. If you can make it through the day, the night is always waiting, and it is always worth it.
Comments: 14
1. I agree with you about the overall mugginess and unbearable heat. This is the reason why I hate going outside in the summer.
2. If you didn't find anything interesting in Houston, it's because you didn't look hard enough. We have our museum district, the Japanese garden, concerts, farmers' markets, flea markets, the club scene, all the hippies, a multitude of dining options from nearly every culture in the world, the Alley Theatre, the Houston Symphony, the ballet, car shows, the Downtown Aquarium, and the midget rodeo! If you were bored, it's your own fault.
3. There IS state sales tax of 8.25%, and has been for many years. If you weren't charged tax, it's because the shopkeeper included it in the price. So you didn't actually get the great deal you thought you did.
4. BBQ means beef! Accept no substitute! (Don't listen to those crazy people from North Carolina who try to feed you shredded pork with vinegar!) I've yet to try Rudy's, but I think I'll try it out.
5. You think there's pressure to get married young in Houston? Dude, don't go to Utah unmarried at your age, or you'll be classified as a menace to society!
I meant that you don't have to file an annual state return.
My grandmother probably thinks I'm gay, too. No, my mother thinks I'm gay. My grandmother does not know any gay people, nor does she acknowledge that gayness exists.
lawn time at dusk...still my favorite time of day. good words my friend, sorry i missed you in TX
When someone from L.A. tells me Houston's hot . . . well, I think I'm fubar'd from ever going there. I'm a Canuck; Anaheim in October was too hot for me. It's a shame you didn't find anything interesting scene-wise though, as everything I've heard about Houston makes it sound just the opposite.
I lived in Texas my entire life until moving to New Zealand and I can agree with everything you've written about Our Great State, Dan.
"Lawn Time" was always a ritual, the "cool part" of the day (even though the temperature would often still be 90 degrees at 10:00 PM... Good LORD, Abilene was HOT). Still, we'd crank up some tunes, sit in chairs out back, crack some ice cold beer and just shoot the breeze until midnight or later.
I love Auckland but man, do I miss my Tex-Mex and Joe Allen's steaks.
Oh... funny Gatlin reference, by the way!
Not to say I told you so, but I believe you were warned about that hot and muggy situation down in Houston. Seriously, come visit Dallas sometime. I'll give you a list of awesome stuff to do. And I apologize for your loss.
Mmm your description of Houston weather makes me long for my home town of Perth, Western Australia. I could so go for some lawn time right now, with a cold beer and all. The ridiculous attempt at a summer that Vancouver BC is eeking out right now makes me want to...set myself on fire.
I got married over a year ago at 25. Sort of eloped. At first people said we were crazy, too young etc but now our relations and friends are all "It's a good thing you two found each other because seriously, no one else would have you"
I'm learning to enjoy/milk the pity that comes with being a not married, 25 year old, freak of nature. I say things to my grandparents and parents like "It's just so hard without a man in my life...*sob*...can I have $50?"
I may not have pride, but I do have spending money.
hey Dan - remember me? Ronni Gregoire/Peck, from both ACU and LA?? :) Kelly Shearon passed me your blog and I totally understand!
I still find it strange that LA nights are cold - I really miss the warm evenings.
Are you still in L.A. What are you up to?
Based on your description of Houston I think you were in a suburb. Sugarland, Katy or the Woodlands or Kingwood or Memorial City or Cy Fair. I'm assuming that since you didn't mention the oppressive fart smell emitted from the refineries that you weren't any where near my hometown of Baytown, on the east side of Houston. Also, the smog-free nature of your visit means that you didn't go near anywhere interesting seeing as though the best parts of the city (where I live in West U) are also the most populated. Of course, I guess you're just comparing it to LA.
I was trying to remember the words to "We Believe" and the rest just the other day. It's been awhile since I heard that song. Too long.
Wish I'd known you were coming. I could told you of some great places to visit. Next time.
Those last two lines are just about perfect.
My favorite memories of Texas are all about driving back late at night on the deserted part of I-20, with my hair flying out the driver's side window, my arms out playing with the wind currents, and my music up, singing as loud as I wanted with complete assurance that no one would ever see me, and even if they did, they'd probably be doing just the same thing I was. Somehow, late Texas nights are just made for that moment. I think it felt like being suspended in time.
Also, Houston sucks, man. That heat will drain your soul.
Good stuff. Again, glad you could be there. People who were at the wedding (and who didn't go to ACU) are still coming up to me saying how floored they were by the way 'We Believe' sounded.
And of course the garter picture - priceless.
Jun 13, 2007 8:20 PM