The boys and I hit Texas for a wedding.
It is my first visit to the Lone Star State and I fall in love with it but I don’t really recognize it. At the time I figure the four days in Houston were memorable because so many of my friends are there and we are having one hell of a time.
I have no idea that in a few months I’ll go back for a business trip but this time I’ll be in Dallas. It is a good trip that would have been better had my boss not tried to eat every single meal with me.
He is twice my age and the conversations are strained because when we aren’t talking about work we haveÂ nothing in common. The Saturday night of the show he tells me to go entertain a prospective client at a bar in the West End.
When I get there I find out it is not a client, it is clients. It is a family business and now I have to make them happy, president, vice-president and general manager.
The president and general manager are substantially older than I am but the VP is my age.
They drink like fish and tell me that a surfer boy can’t possibly keep up with them. I give $20 to the bartender and tell him I am playing a joke on my dad, uncle and cousin.
“Pour real shots for them and water for me.”
Bartender thinks it is funny and does a great job of making sure the guys don’t realize that they have have multiple shots and beer and all I have had is one beer.
Later on they’ll tell me how impressed they are with my drinkingÂ skills.Â I am almost tempted to call my folks and tell them fraternity life has paid off again.
Had that taken place today it probably would have been immortalized on some smartphone but back during the payphone era unless you were a professional or amateur photographer you probably weren’t going to carry a camera with you.
It is February of 1995 and I am back in Houston for another wedding. Two weeks ago I was in Jerusalem and I am not happy to be back in the states.
Two weeks ago I sat a pub drinking beer with a group of peopleÂ from Scotland, Â Australia and a couple of South Africans. They made fun of my American accent
It is Friday night here in Texas and the groomsmen are sitting at a table with bridesmaids, most of whom are recent graduates from U.T.
One of them tells me I have a drawl and wants to know what part of Texas I am from. When I tell her I am from LA she says she doesn’t believe me.
Now I am shaking my head. It is the second time in a month where someone claims I have an accent.”
Maybe It Is Time To Leave LA
It has been almost twenty years since my last trip to Texas but I am not going back to Houston. I am going back to Dallas for another business trip.
Same sort of business as before but a slightly different industry. It is a ridiculously easy flight from LAX to DFW and within an hour of landing I am in my rental car heading for my hotel.
The first thing I notice is how it feels like it could be home. Can’t decide if it is because the weather is almost identical to what I left behind or because houses, malls and stores look familiar.
It is not quite exact but close enough.
Two nights and three days go by in a blur but I still have time to kill so I drive around and check out a few open houses. The prices here are so much lower than back home I wonder if maybe we should take a serious look at leaving LA.
Eighteen months later I am back in Dallas for business again. Things back in LA have gotten very ugly, won’t be long before the entire country is mired in a big recession.
I have that same feeling of belonging as before. Texas could be home.
It is something I think about the whole flight home.
When I get back to LA we have a conversation about moving but it just doesn’t happen. Won’t be much longer before circumstances change and we have to sell the house.
The last night in it I shake my head and think that I should have sold it years earlier and moved to Dallas.
Two years later I am in Texas again but this time I amÂ living in Fort Worth. It feels surreal to be here. Been to, in and around Dallas but never made it to Fort Worth so it is brand new to me.
Doesn’t take long for me to get settled and I decide Texas could definitely be home. The rest of the family is back in LA with a plan for them to come later.
During each visit back to LA I grab more of my stuff and bring it back with me. Slowly but the most important pieces of my gear end up in Fort Worth. All I need now is to get the kids over and I’ll be set.
But life happens, things shift and I end up moving back to LA. It is not my first choice but it is supposed to be temporary so I shrug my shoulders and go.
He Named His Intention Texas
Been back in LA for a bit more than a year. Everything on the short term list of accomplishments was taken care of but the long terms ones got shifted, mixed up and tossed around.
I was certain I would have moved back to Texas already but it didn’t happen.
For a brief while I sort of shrugged my shoulders and said I would just go with it but then I had this thought that it was time to name my intention.
I name it Texas.
LA hasn’t been very good to me for a while now. It will always be home, but it is time to spend more time planting my Texas roots. That feeling of home has been around for more than 20 years now, about time to really do something about it.