After the penguins, my God what could there be after the penguins?
Austin. We booked a room at the ridiculously silly Brown Bed and Ball Throwing Inn. It was a treat to be able to spend some quality time with my cousin Jake and his ever so lovely wife, Amy and the daughters, Sara and Emma. Sara, I don't know if you had heard, was in an car accident a few days prior and the pain of it all had finally caught up to her. She was pretty miserable with back issues. Emma, on the other hand, was her usual witty self. We were also delighted with Gucci and her ball dropping, dog staring until the ball is thrown antics. Fred the cat didn't do much but sit behind the curtain ala Alfred Hitchcock and occasionally come out to be loved.
Jake and Amy gave us an amazing tour of Austin and by amazing, I mean that Jake would get on the wrong street and Amy would randomly point stuff of interest. It was very entertaining.
We ate at three Austin-ing places and I can't remember the names. A little Mexican place that had great not name brand soda. We ate at P. Telly's. Does that sound right? And we ate at an Austin Brewhouse. That might be what it was called. The best meal out was the one we shared at my cousin, Mary's house. Mary and her husband, Dick are Jake's parents. We also met Micheal, Jake's son. Mary is my first cousin. The Snow family tree grows oddly.
I don't think I have ever spent any quality time with my cousin Mary. The age difference between us made me just a lass when she and her husband moved from Crapids. From our conversation that evening, I learned more about my dad, his mom and my own siblings as children. Mary spilled a bottle of wine. Mary and Dick drank two bottles of wine. It was a fantastic evening.
Saturday, Danny and I went into Austin on our own. We parked the car and walked around the downtown area. We scoped out the bridge for the bats later on. We looked at Formula One cars, and Monster Girls and lots and lots of dogs. We had anticipated a lot more shopping. That was a disappointment. What was not a disappointment was the very fancy cars we saw. A Ferrari, a Bentley and something so damn fancy we couldn't name it. We also saw a lot of Formula One fancy Europeans. You know what I mean by Formula One fancy- their leather shoes are made from grass fed cows that never walked in their own poop. Their white shirts are so white they are blue. Their hair grays in the precise manner that is required of it to make them look distinguished, not old. At first I thought I wasn't Formula One Fancy, but then I decided I was. The alternative is Nascar Fancy and I am certainly not that Fancy!
Danny, being the great guy that he is, stood on the Ann Richards/Congress Bridge with me for an hour and a half because I wanted to see the bats. Danny wanted to see them, too, but I don't know if he would have stood there an hour and a half. The sun set and the bats did not come. We had walked under the bridge earlier in the day and heard a lot of chatter, but when it was time for them to leave, we saw seven fly out. Seven little bats. That was a bit of a let down, but bats migrate- who knew.
Duran Duran. The whole point of this BWE! They did not disappoint.
I have been a fan since 1983. Seventh grade when all my money was sunk into Teen Beat and Tiger Beat magazine. Quality television was Night Trax when they showed a Duran Duran video ( or any video from like minded artists). Duran Duran. John Taylor, mostly, but Duran Duran. Not ever in all my days did I think I would see them live. They never came to Iowa that I was aware of, I wasn't going to be traveling to other states. I got married, John missed his chance. They weren't touring but were collaborating with other artists. I forgot my roots and listened to country. I found my roots again but was too knee deep in little people to afford a concert. And then Danny and I reached that magical age (you know what I am talking about Lisa Moore) when the bands we loved started touring again and we could afford to see them. But still Duran Duran was never even imagined. And my husband got tickets. He is one crafty son of a bitch.
So there I am with the man that replaced John Taylor in my heart of hearts, and believe me, best choice I ever made. We are seven or so rows up from the balcony. Duran Duran is straight ahead of us. They look good and sound, well the smell like they sound. And if that statement is true (and I think it is) they smell fantastic. Considering what the 80s did to so many of their peers, Duran Duran have cleaned up their act and are putting on a great show. There was no mistaking that they were having a great time on stage and the audience completely responded. I had forgotten that I still knew all the words. I knew when to du du du duuuu.
Danny told me later that I do this thing when I am really excited or happy. And it must be completely involuntary as I didn't even realize, but I put my hands up to my lips like a First Communion candidate from the '60s. He said I was doing that a lot. I didn't cry, but I had the shivers when they first took the stage. What an amazing gift he gave me that night. Not the tickets or the trip, but the chance. I am blessed beyond measure, I truly am.
So how does one follow Duran Duran? Well, lets go back six more years to my earliest football memories. What do I find there, none other than the Dallas Cowboys. Coincidentally those Boys just happen to be my husband's favorite as well. Ashlyn and Hayley bought us tickets for our birthdays. Pulling up to Jerry's House was just funny. It is ginormous. And everywhere we looked were other Dallas fans. That was so unusual and so comforting. Everything about the stadium is over the top. But it is impressive and someday (soon) the team will be impressive again as well.
We all know what happened on the field and it wasn't pretty. And as much as a win would have been perfect, it wasn't necessary because everything else was perfect.
We toured the stadium a couple of days later and were able to go down on the field. I made Cowboys angels in the end zone. I picked bits of turf out of the star. I watched Danny walk around his Graceland. My Graceland too. Granted, there isn't the history that Texas Stadium held. It is no Lambeau Field or Soldier Field in terms of longevity but it is fucking awesome and that is good enough for me. Danny had been carrying around a hundred dollar bill since September. He was given the money by the woman he had saved the day Jacob wanted pancakes. The money was for dinner, but I told Danny to buy something he really wanted and he did. Danny bought a #11 D. White jersey. It's pretty sweet.
Our last couple of days were spent with Danny's good friend Cheto and his family. Cheto was the interpreter assigned to Team Pillage while in Kurdistan in 2004. Getting to meet the last man of that incredible team was a joy. Though Cheto was not part of the Army, he was an important part of this team and I credit him for putting up with those yahoos and for being there each time Danny was talking to village leaders. He was instrumental in Pillage's success.
We ate and ate and ate and then we drank chi. Then we went to the Middle Eastern grocery and Cheto bought us tea and Chi cups so that we could at least drink the chi at home. I opened myself up to all the new foods on the table and found that I loved it all. My mom would have been so proud. Cheto and his wife gave me history lessons about the region and was so patient with me and my ignorant questions. Such warmth and hospitality! I know we always have a place to stay in Dallas.
Our last night was in a fancy hotel in Dallas. Danny likes a fancy hotel and now that I am Formula One Fancy, I do, too. The hotel brought a piece of chocolate cake to our room for my birthday. The pool and spa were outside on the fourth floor. There were fire pits going and the Dallas skyline was lit up beautifully. It was an easy end to such a great week. I don't really have the words- this guy of mine. WOW!
So my birthday is on Monday. I took the day off of work. Danny will take a half day. Traditionally we do our Christmas shopping on my birthday. We hang out, laugh a lot and end up at a nice place for dinner. This year, John and Nick's. Then we start the twelve days of birthday (similar to the twelve days of Christmas) . Nothing happens on those twelve days, I just thought it was a creative way to keep the birthday thing going.
I'm taking Danny on a cruise for his 45th. Thankfully I have 21 months to plan. There will be no topping this one though. Luckiest girl ever!
PS We got real cowboy boots. Justin Ropers. No Shit. They are pretty sweet.
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