Wandering Around

 

So whaddya do on Easter Tuesday? Train El Diacono to say the Mass, well done. Then wander through the sylvan boulevards of Olde Tejas to the Square. Take that in, in all its Confederate monument glory, and note the Gold Nugget Pawn's new signage.

Well done, boys, long may you reign. But what's this? Texan Pride? Is that some kind of rainbow thing? No, it is not. Reassured, glance into the shopfront of "Alterations" and spot a pink glitter mushroom. Hunh. Some kind of disco scene perhaps. And next door?

The newly opened Ember Cigar Lounge, promising fine wines, bourbon and, of course, cigars. Now, I don't even like cigars, as a rule, but ventured in to see what it was all about. And, per Ember's marketing it was about "Tradition, Honor, Excellence." Bold call, did Hill County's first cigar lounge live up to promise? 

Sure it did, in a North Central Texan Exclusion Zone kind of way. Plenty of cigars, which are traditional for a cigar lounge, and I'm sure many of them were excellent and sold honorably, give or take, fair play. Overall ambiance? Not bad at all, with some big boys turning up half-way through, so I had fun for an hour or so. But will the "high-end-cigar-bar" concept take off on the town square.

Maybe it will and I hope it does, after all, there's plenty of lawyers congregated in the townsquare hub of this county seat and hey, we could all do with a civilized place to meet and drink in the center of town, such as it is. Whatever, the guys who run this new setup have a good vision and I hope it succeeds, we'll see.

In the meanwhile, I've promised them photos from St. James and Clubland next week.

Ad Solem,

LSP

Branded Burger

Do you go out for dinner? I don't, hardly ever, but tonight a kind churchman invited, "We'll be in town this evening where we can do our business. Why not join us for dinner afterwards?" What, dinner in the NCTEZ (North Central Texas Exclusion Zone)? Terrifying prospect, but it can be done, at Branded Burger.

Branded Burger is a family owned Midlothian restaurant which has expanded into a few neighboring towns and their slogan is, "Where The Locals Eat." Their signature is a burger in a bun which has been branded with their... brand and stabbed through with a black plastic knife.

As in, take that, burger, I forgot my Benchmade or Opinel, so here's this plastic knife statement. Marketing aside, the Branded Burger is pretty dam good, coming in seared and quick at around 7 bucks. The patty? Close to an inch thick and properly medium rare. Yes, this is a good burger and I devoured mine like a hungry wolf.

Verdict: If you're lucky enough to travel through our storied lands, stop at Branded Burger, they're alright.

Boodles Forever,

LSP

Saturday Sermon

 

Willie Nelson Fixed This

People in London complain because COVID asset strippers killed off landmarks, like Simpson's on the Strand, the Savoy Tailors Guild and great bank branches like Lloyd's Law Courts and the Aldwych/Strand Barclays, which is now an annoyingly overpriced restaurant. And pubs, the Tipperary on Fleet Street (oldest Irish pub in town?) is now no more. 

How very tragic, and I mean that. Hopefully USD will continue to grow in strength so we can buy and save these places, for posterity and the good of all. You can imagine, there we are on the Strand and the monkey produces a battered $20 bill. Helpful simian, "Thank you, monkey, we shall buy this place."

But seriously, Londoners who think they have it bad should visit this rural Texan haven's town square and take stock.

Gary...

Quackers "ice cream parlor" and burger joint? Shut. Axe Throwing startup in our old Citizen's bank, shut. Antique shops, they tried to reinvent this town as an antique shop, shut x 4. Burger King? Shut. 2 of 4 car dealers? Shut. Gold Nugget Pawn? Shut. And the list goes on, small town mercantile carnage. But don't worry, your kid can get a sex change as zhir goes to a highway strip mall for puberty blockers. What a crock.

There's an issue here and a big one. Why can't we, the wealthiest, most powerful nation on the face of the planet make beautiful, livable cities and towns? And for a fact we mostly don't, we've produced one urban sh*thole after another, see Detroit, Chicago, Gary, Dallas, Fort Worth, Atlanta, Baltimore, Milwaukee, Upstate New York and on, take your pick.

Why? Market forces, greed? Sure, all of that and more besides, but it doesn't have to be this way. We have more than enough power and creativity to build places to live in to uplift heart and mind. To do so, we must change or convert our collective soul.

Acknowledging that such a thing exists would be a good start. And then, just maybe, seeing we were wrong to enthrone secular, temporal power in the heart of our towns, in the courthouse on the square. This would've been a cathedral or collegiate church in a better age. I won't bang on.

Let's fix our cities and towns.

Your Pal,

LSP

Register

 

One of the many benefits of the rural, bucolic Texan haven that is LSPland is that you get to look at local architecture after dropping off the rig for its yearly inspection at Tom's Tire. 

Look how the wooden roof shingles on this derelict have survived. I like that, but you can imagine its price in, say, Toronto, Austin or twin city San Francisco:

note shingles

Roofing reverie over, it's a short stroll along the leafy boulevards of this Texan farming community to the old jail and court house, which was built in the 1890s and admirably protected by steel shutters. Its modern equivalent would be a windowless slab of dun colored brick, pierced by bulletproof slits. My, how we've devolved.

Jail/Courthouse

Regardless, the jail's protected by a fierce junkyard dog and has a Liberty Tree, seeded from an Ash in Eisenhower's home town. And then, before melting in the searing, ovenlike heat of a July morning, you amble over to Montes for a late breakfast.

Fierce Dog!

Montes, now "Ya-Ya's," is blissfully cool, blinded and silent, it's just too hot for extraneous noise. So you sit there checking out Russkie Telegram channels while Ya Ya brings the right stuff. Huevos Rancheros, eggs over easy on corn tortillas with their hot rancheros sauce, refried beans, fried potatoes and homemade flour tortillas. What a feast.

Breakfast Time

Then return to Tom's, pay a massive fee of $7, pick up the truck, spin over to the court house annex where they're spraying the doors with disinfectant because science and register your vehicle. Easy. What a pleasant morning and so much less hassle than doing the same thing in the Metrosprawl.

shadow LSP

Country life forever,

LSP

Tales of Country Life in Texas

It was a day much like any other day, triple digit heat bouncing off Walmart's car park and you could feel the nuttiness as soon as you got inside the store. 

There it was, no sooner through the automatic doors and people were acting weird, off-hand and unbalanced, as though things could spin out of control. Maybe it was the heat.

Random SMLE

I took a cart and pushed on to stock up, milk, bread, wine, cheese and for some reason, root beer. It seemed good to me, I don't know why and it wasn't easy to get, there was too much random motion.

As I pulled the 4 pack of IBC into the cart, a weather-beaten woman slid across the aisle in front of me in dirty socks. No shoes, just socks; I guess it's easier to skate over Walmart's vinyl floor in socks, shoes have too much traction. I dodged out of the way but didn't get far.

Furries

A grinning, white haired giant loomed out of the freezer aisle into my path. "Say," he growled, "What's the only room in the hospital where they'll notice you?" I wasn't feeling quick and told him I didn't know. That satisfied him, after all, this was his joke. "I'll tell you, Emergency. They have a sign, says I... C... U..." 

We locked eyes and a grin creased his already lined, tan face. I told him that was pretty funny and he nodded. A moment of understanding. In the meanwhile, sock-skater had disappeared into the depths of the store and I checked out, passing the old men sitting on the bench outside the hair salon, looking brown as nuts under their veterans hats and not doing much at all except regarding the spectacle of the place unfold. This was their afternoon; I noticed one had been in Korea, but don't stare, it's rude.

Note The 12

I loaded my groceries into the rig and there, across the melting asphalt, were two young guys playing show-and-tell with a pump action twelve gauge outside their truck. Hey, why not, it's Walmart in August, there's no rule. 

Back home, Eduardo and Maria were slaughtering chickens in the back yard and getting it on to some Mexican music. They're good people and I like them; sometimes they bring me fresh eggs, which taste better than the things you buy in stores.

And that's country life.

In Texas,

LSP

Fly The Flag

There's talk in some cities, including Dallas, believe it or not, of removing or relocating Confederate monuments. You don't hear that kind of talk here in the country.

I spotted this flag on the way to Mass.

Look, here's another.

And here's some more!

There are no plans to remove the Confederate war memorial in this town. That particular flag's simply not going to fly here and who knows, if you swing by the Compound you might get to use these helpful plates.

Levity aside, those who fought hard and honorably for states rights and their homeland deserve our respect, even if you consider the endeavor misguided. The victorious North, at the end of the war, recognized that much. 

While pondering magnanimity, reflect on this.

It's a near universal truth that whatever the progleft implements produces the exact opposite of its intended result. People fooling with monuments in search of cheap votes might want to take note. 

Deo Vindice.

LSP