Hello all
I arrived in Houston this afternoon. It is snowing.
Yeah, that's why I left Oregon.
I am where I am because it's near a AAA office and I wanted some in-person service. So they got me one of the few hotels in the area, and they sent me to a mechanic that is AAA-certified and that they know. The latter item is why I stopped here and went no further. I really didn't want to try to get further into Houston with car that is acting a bit squirrelly.
At least the hotel has coin-op laundry units; it's just too cold to use them tonight.
Oh, and my hotel has few channels available, so I cannot watch The Mummy Returns on the FX channel tonight. I think I'll just pull the covers over my head and go to bed.
I just wanted to share.
-Skye
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Deeper in the Heart of Texas
As someone who has lived all her life on the West Coast, I have shared my friends’ and neighbors’ opinion of “anywhere but Texas.” That’s where none of us wanted to live. Why? Because it was full of cowboys, which we all knew were uneducated rednecks, right? Bigots. Treated their women badly.
How terrible. To think that, to carry that opinion for all these years without ever checking it out. My aunt and uncle and cousins moved here and lived here the rest of their lives, and unfortunately they exhibited the behaviors and mindsets that I considered were Texan or Southern: teen pregnancies, never finishing high school, not marrying the other parent of their children, their own kids repeating this pattern.… But several of my cousins in California did that, too.
My grandmother lived in Texas for quite a while; she worked for a contractor to NASA. It is obvious that educated people live in Texas. And just because one wears jeans and boots and a cowboy hat doesn’t make one uneducated or a bigot or a wife beater. I think that is a conceit of early urbanites, of people who lived very far removed from animals and farming and dirt. Perhaps began as a way to distance oneself from rural areas, from tradition, from dirt and animals and subsistence. But I find I rather like cowboy boots and cowboy hats…I think I’d like some to wear for myself! (I already wear jeans—Levi’s 501s to be exact.)
What about racism? When I worked for a year at the City of Seattle, I worked with a group of analysts regarding the solid waste and recycling programs that were being initiated in Seattle that year. In a group of about ten people, two were Asian and one was African American. The latter analyst, Mozelle, had grown up in Seattle, but when she was sixteen she convinced her parents to let her go live with family in the South. She said that the big difference she noticed between the two regions was that in the South, you at least saw bigotry—where it exists—in the open, unlike in Seattle. One thing I’m finding about the Southwest is that there is far greater social integration among ethnic groups than I have generally seen in the PNW.
Sexist? I don’t know yet. But certainly I see gender issues everywhere. And while the US talks up greater rights for women more vocally than other countries, other countries were laughing at us during this last presidential election because we were making such a big deal over a potential woman presidential candidate and woman vice presidential candidate: even in countries where young girls are still sold into marriage, there have been women in leadership roles, including women leading those countries. I don’t see gender issues as being strictly tied to geography. Nor to education levels: there are plenty of people with recessive ideas of gender roles and capabilities in all levels of economic, social, and economic levels.
So here I am, in a state I never thought I would go to, challenging lifelong prejudices and thoughtless opinions, and I’m liking it—all of it. Suppose I decide to stay here? What will my family think? What will my friends think? ;) What will I think?
How terrible. To think that, to carry that opinion for all these years without ever checking it out. My aunt and uncle and cousins moved here and lived here the rest of their lives, and unfortunately they exhibited the behaviors and mindsets that I considered were Texan or Southern: teen pregnancies, never finishing high school, not marrying the other parent of their children, their own kids repeating this pattern.… But several of my cousins in California did that, too.
My grandmother lived in Texas for quite a while; she worked for a contractor to NASA. It is obvious that educated people live in Texas. And just because one wears jeans and boots and a cowboy hat doesn’t make one uneducated or a bigot or a wife beater. I think that is a conceit of early urbanites, of people who lived very far removed from animals and farming and dirt. Perhaps began as a way to distance oneself from rural areas, from tradition, from dirt and animals and subsistence. But I find I rather like cowboy boots and cowboy hats…I think I’d like some to wear for myself! (I already wear jeans—Levi’s 501s to be exact.)
What about racism? When I worked for a year at the City of Seattle, I worked with a group of analysts regarding the solid waste and recycling programs that were being initiated in Seattle that year. In a group of about ten people, two were Asian and one was African American. The latter analyst, Mozelle, had grown up in Seattle, but when she was sixteen she convinced her parents to let her go live with family in the South. She said that the big difference she noticed between the two regions was that in the South, you at least saw bigotry—where it exists—in the open, unlike in Seattle. One thing I’m finding about the Southwest is that there is far greater social integration among ethnic groups than I have generally seen in the PNW.
Sexist? I don’t know yet. But certainly I see gender issues everywhere. And while the US talks up greater rights for women more vocally than other countries, other countries were laughing at us during this last presidential election because we were making such a big deal over a potential woman presidential candidate and woman vice presidential candidate: even in countries where young girls are still sold into marriage, there have been women in leadership roles, including women leading those countries. I don’t see gender issues as being strictly tied to geography. Nor to education levels: there are plenty of people with recessive ideas of gender roles and capabilities in all levels of economic, social, and economic levels.
So here I am, in a state I never thought I would go to, challenging lifelong prejudices and thoughtless opinions, and I’m liking it—all of it. Suppose I decide to stay here? What will my family think? What will my friends think? ;) What will I think?
Texas is Big, Fast, and Hot: Oh Baby!
You’ve heard the phrase “everything’s bigger in Texas,” right? Well, there are a lot of SUVs and pickups on the road; I find I am actually experiencing truck envy! At the Fort Davis national park the other day, there were seven cars other than mine: a pickup, a van, a jeep, and four SUVs. But I’ve also seen small imports too, even some with Texas license plates. So I guess it’s also legal to be small in Texas. And I have not seen excessive portion sizes in the food, for which I’m grateful. The meals I’ve had, here and in Las Cruces, which is just over the border in NM, have been reasonable. A bit more than I needed, but reasonable. But there is definitely a lot of land in Texas. And to cover all that land, you cannot just poke along.
In order to move quickly from one oasis to another, traffic moves quickly on Texas interstates, but so far not crazy-fast like they drive in California (I’ve heard that changes once you hit one of the cities). During today’s drive, I noticed that most people were simply driving the speed limit: 80 mph for autos and 70 for trucks and trailers. (It’s 65 at night for both—isn’t that intelligent? Why don’t more states have a lower speed limit after dark?) I have found that while my car shimmies a bit at 70 to 72 or so, it is smooth as cream at 80. And at 90, which I accidently hit a couple of times today. Oops. But the highway was so straight and long….
There is a lot of desert in Texas, which correlates to hot daytime temps for the most part. It did get pretty cold in Fort Davis yesterday when it was cloudy, which wasn’t so great for my cold; I stayed in during the afternoon and slept. The nights have been rather chilly; that may change as I get further into the state, or if I drive south. But mostly I have experienced sun and heat, my two prerequisites. And those warm, friendly people.
So far, Texas meets this girl’s needs!
In order to move quickly from one oasis to another, traffic moves quickly on Texas interstates, but so far not crazy-fast like they drive in California (I’ve heard that changes once you hit one of the cities). During today’s drive, I noticed that most people were simply driving the speed limit: 80 mph for autos and 70 for trucks and trailers. (It’s 65 at night for both—isn’t that intelligent? Why don’t more states have a lower speed limit after dark?) I have found that while my car shimmies a bit at 70 to 72 or so, it is smooth as cream at 80. And at 90, which I accidently hit a couple of times today. Oops. But the highway was so straight and long….
There is a lot of desert in Texas, which correlates to hot daytime temps for the most part. It did get pretty cold in Fort Davis yesterday when it was cloudy, which wasn’t so great for my cold; I stayed in during the afternoon and slept. The nights have been rather chilly; that may change as I get further into the state, or if I drive south. But mostly I have experienced sun and heat, my two prerequisites. And those warm, friendly people.
So far, Texas meets this girl’s needs!
Deep in the Heart of Texas
I’ve been in Texas for four days, I have had more beef than I usually have in two months, and I find myself inexplicably feeling rather Texan.
People I’ve met here—from the salesclerk in the Origins store in El Paso to the sweet 21-year-old waitress at the Hotel Limpia here in Fort Davis—have been warm, friendly, helpful. Happy to talk. Not in a rush. The food is great, but I now have to begin a serious exercise program because I feel I’m getting fatter by the moment.
Lunch the other day, at the Chuck Wagon in Fort Davis, was a BBQ beef sandwich (I tried a bit of all three sauces: sweet, original, and hot, all three of which I think were homemade and quite delicious), BBQ beans, fries, and coleslaw. And a mason jar full of sweet tea. Yeah, I’m going southern. I like it. But I may explode from food. Dinner was at Hotel Limpia: burgundy roast beef with gravy on the side, three buttermilk biscuits (with real butter, of course), green beans, corn, and cream cheese mashed potatoes. OMG! Excellent. And whew!
They do say to feed a cold, right? Because then I’m doing the right thing, because I am fighting a cold that just refuses to let go. And I’m sure as hell feeding it…. (Hmmm, maybe it’s “feed a fever….”) Maybe I need more jalapeños!
Did I mention friendly? Because this morning at breakfast, a Mr. Rueben Sanchez chatted me up and explained that I should move to Fort Davis. You see, he isn't married either.... I love Texas!
People I’ve met here—from the salesclerk in the Origins store in El Paso to the sweet 21-year-old waitress at the Hotel Limpia here in Fort Davis—have been warm, friendly, helpful. Happy to talk. Not in a rush. The food is great, but I now have to begin a serious exercise program because I feel I’m getting fatter by the moment.
Lunch the other day, at the Chuck Wagon in Fort Davis, was a BBQ beef sandwich (I tried a bit of all three sauces: sweet, original, and hot, all three of which I think were homemade and quite delicious), BBQ beans, fries, and coleslaw. And a mason jar full of sweet tea. Yeah, I’m going southern. I like it. But I may explode from food. Dinner was at Hotel Limpia: burgundy roast beef with gravy on the side, three buttermilk biscuits (with real butter, of course), green beans, corn, and cream cheese mashed potatoes. OMG! Excellent. And whew!
They do say to feed a cold, right? Because then I’m doing the right thing, because I am fighting a cold that just refuses to let go. And I’m sure as hell feeding it…. (Hmmm, maybe it’s “feed a fever….”) Maybe I need more jalapeños!
Did I mention friendly? Because this morning at breakfast, a Mr. Rueben Sanchez chatted me up and explained that I should move to Fort Davis. You see, he isn't married either.... I love Texas!
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Closer to the Sky
On my trip, I have been in several high-altitude places: Zion National Park (4000 to 8726 ft above sea level), Bryce Canyon (9115 ft!), Canyon de Chelly (5500 to 7000 ft), Monument Valley (5200 ft), and now Fort Davis (5274 ft). Actually, it’s McDonald Observatory (6800 ft) that is the high point near Fort Davis. And all of these places have had little light pollution, or at least much less than I am used to. Even with the hotel lights. They have also all been deserts.
I feel lucky that I have been in an area where I could see the Jupiter-Venus-moon conjunction. It was stunning. Unfortunately, I missed being in Fort Davis on Tuesday, when the moon was still a thin crescent. When I go to the Star Party on Friday, the moon will obscure some of the fainter stars. (I had to put off my travel Tuesday due to getting a nasty cold. Thanks to Zicam, I am doing decently.)
The stars look closer. The sun feels closer. The sky looks bigger, wider, bluer. I feel transported to a foreign land; I guess I am. Because the American Southwest is a very different land from the Pacific Northwest. The racial demographics and interactions are completely different. The biogeography is different. The air smells different.
It’s good, this difference. I like being closer to the sky. Maybe I am moving closer to the Skye, as well.
Laundry in Las Cruces
I arrived in LC on Wednesday, around 3:00. I was tired and had been driving for over 250 miles. I wasn’t thrilled at being on a minor highway, especially when the AAA travel person had said the hotel was downtown. It isn’t. And there are train tracks on the other side of the minor highway.
But I fell in love with my room. I stayed at the Best Western Mission Inn, and it was done in Spanish Mission style, with heavy, carved wood furniture, plaster, and lots of tile. The entire wall behind the bed—king sized!—is built in, creating a tile-topped headboard and surround. The surround has electrical outlets built into the top; the lamps and phone are on the surround and there is plenty of room for laptop, books, water, small children and pets, etc. The ceiling has beams…and acoustical tile, unfortunately. The tile floor in the bath and dressing area is heated radiantly from below.
The hotel has a restaurant: the Blue Agave Café. It wasn’t busy most evenings, so I had lots of time to talk to the waiter. He’s in school, studying to be a special-ed teacher. Nice guy. He said he wished he could be someplace where it rained. The next night, I had thanksgiving dinner at the café. It was quite busy and the servers were jumping. It was raining lightly when I went in to dinner, then slightly harder, and my waiter from the night before teased me about bringing the rain; I proudly took credit for it. Then it started to pour outside and everyone—patron and server—stopped to look. I’m sure they don’t usually get rain that hard.
I did my laundry Friday, in a Laundromat. Most of the machines were running and there were people in and out of there—Hispanic people, Caucasian people, mixed ethnicity people. The attendant was a Hispanic woman, maybe a bit older than me. She was warm and friendly and talkative, and the two of us had a great conversation for over half an hour. She had a big Thanksgiving: her husband, her kids from both marriages, friends from the Laundromat who had no family to be with.
She loves Las Cruces. But some of her family have no jobs right now. So when they all get together for a birthday or something, she said the ones who are working pitch in to cover the ones who aren’t.
I haven’t done laundry in a Laundromat in so long I don’t remember how long it’s been. Mostly I’ve had in-unit or in-building laundry facilities, when I didn’t have my own washer & dryer. The machines here were clean and they work very well. The building was clean. It was a comfortable place. My comfort zone has expanded a couple of notches.
I also shopped for groceries, for books, for another cell phone (my friend Steve put me on his plan as an additional line in the hopes I will help him use up some of his enormous amount of rollover minutes and not go over what seemed like enough minutes on my other plan: if you want my new number, email me), and then got an oil change (over 3,000 miles since my last one, a week or so before I took off).
Las Cruces is very nice and I liked it. But it is too small to give me the kind of work I’d like and it is too sleepy for me. I need somewhere more energetic now, after 7 years in a very sleepy place.
But I fell in love with my room. I stayed at the Best Western Mission Inn, and it was done in Spanish Mission style, with heavy, carved wood furniture, plaster, and lots of tile. The entire wall behind the bed—king sized!—is built in, creating a tile-topped headboard and surround. The surround has electrical outlets built into the top; the lamps and phone are on the surround and there is plenty of room for laptop, books, water, small children and pets, etc. The ceiling has beams…and acoustical tile, unfortunately. The tile floor in the bath and dressing area is heated radiantly from below.
The hotel has a restaurant: the Blue Agave Café. It wasn’t busy most evenings, so I had lots of time to talk to the waiter. He’s in school, studying to be a special-ed teacher. Nice guy. He said he wished he could be someplace where it rained. The next night, I had thanksgiving dinner at the café. It was quite busy and the servers were jumping. It was raining lightly when I went in to dinner, then slightly harder, and my waiter from the night before teased me about bringing the rain; I proudly took credit for it. Then it started to pour outside and everyone—patron and server—stopped to look. I’m sure they don’t usually get rain that hard.
I did my laundry Friday, in a Laundromat. Most of the machines were running and there were people in and out of there—Hispanic people, Caucasian people, mixed ethnicity people. The attendant was a Hispanic woman, maybe a bit older than me. She was warm and friendly and talkative, and the two of us had a great conversation for over half an hour. She had a big Thanksgiving: her husband, her kids from both marriages, friends from the Laundromat who had no family to be with.
She loves Las Cruces. But some of her family have no jobs right now. So when they all get together for a birthday or something, she said the ones who are working pitch in to cover the ones who aren’t.
I haven’t done laundry in a Laundromat in so long I don’t remember how long it’s been. Mostly I’ve had in-unit or in-building laundry facilities, when I didn’t have my own washer & dryer. The machines here were clean and they work very well. The building was clean. It was a comfortable place. My comfort zone has expanded a couple of notches.
I also shopped for groceries, for books, for another cell phone (my friend Steve put me on his plan as an additional line in the hopes I will help him use up some of his enormous amount of rollover minutes and not go over what seemed like enough minutes on my other plan: if you want my new number, email me), and then got an oil change (over 3,000 miles since my last one, a week or so before I took off).
Las Cruces is very nice and I liked it. But it is too small to give me the kind of work I’d like and it is too sleepy for me. I need somewhere more energetic now, after 7 years in a very sleepy place.
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