Summer Rituals : Frosty

One of the many summer rituals GFT partakes annually is a visit to Frosty , which GFT and co invariably and mistakenly refer to as "Mr Frosty". A relic of time gone by, Frosty is a 50's style drive up burger joint on Ft Worth Drive, just a few blocks south of I-35 in Denton, Tx. Frosty is not, however, a modern restaurant that imitates a 50's style burger joint. No my friends, Frosty has been here serving local appetites SINCE the 1950's. In an era when there is a fast food franchise on every corner, Frosty is a refreshing treat : hand made, slow cooked food made to order. Serves the usual burgers, fries, onion rings, malts, chili dogs. It is especially famous for its home-made root beer. Frosty has a local following of "old farts", college kids, and nostalgia buffs who come for the tasty food and linger due to the old-timey juke box full of everything from Elvis to Patsy Cline to Van Halen and the Rolling Stones.
I have been bringing my children here ever since we moved to Denton. Part of my motivation is to expose them to the types of things I love - quirky, authentic, original, the kind of quality that emphasizes substance over style and celebrates a unique little spot because it actually provides great food at a good price . I also hope to imprint them with a love of the south, Texeana, road food, diners, holes-in the wall joints along the back roads, in the perhaps foolish desire that no matter how far from home they wander, they will always return, at least for a visit.

Mmm ! Mmm ! Good !

Dog Days of Summer

The phrase "Dog Days of Summer" actually refers to the time of year when the astrological constellation Sirius shows up in the Northern Hemisphere (and does not mean it's when it's too hot outside for dogs to do anything other than lay around and pant, as one friend assured me.) Summer is not only a time to observe this constellation in the sky, but to spend more quality time bonding with one's pets.
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Ever wonder what your dogs do while you are at work all day ? Since I have summers off, I 've gotten the unique chance to find out for myself. If I sit really still ( easy to do while blogging, watching tv, sorting laundry or reading) the dogs around my home eventually forget I am here, and revert to their normal every day behaviors.

Mostly, they lay around a lot. It's clear from their behaviors that Phoebe ( the poodle) and Ralph (the boxer) don't really have any serious complaints about their lives. Meals are regular; the air conditioning drones on, sheltering them from the 100+ degree heat outside. The monotony of their lives are broken up by periodic trips through the doggie door into the back yard, to make their existential yowlps at the universe or a passing cat on the back fence. Once in awhile, a car passes by the front of the house, on the street outside, and then they both race to the front door to show me how well they are taking care of things, and keeping us all safe by barking and attacking the curtains. That 'll show 'em ! This routine has scared the UPS man, who now routinely just tosses packages onto the lawn and drives off. Many people have told me they think Ralph is a pit bull. Rest assured, he is not.

Sure, their lolling about has pretty much trashed the sofas in the den. The kids spilling juice and gunk all over them doesn't help, either. I figure I'll replace them when the human children go off to college. At that point I'll have to figure out some way to deter the canine offspring from getting on the new ones. (Previous efforts with electronic "scat" mats, electronic fences, baby gates, etc, have not worked. They only work if other members of the family cooperate and use them.....)

Sometimes, when boredom sets in, the pets are a source of entertainment. Evenings are often spent trying to watch tv while the dogs decide to race excitedly in circles, barking and tossing toys in the air. Surprisingly, Phoebe seems to exert some sort of control over Ralph, in spite of their size differential. She keeps him in line, makes him do what she wants, by nipping his ears. Here, hubster "sings" ( by howling) with the dogs, who love this so much, they woo-woo along with him.

High School Reunion

old buddies Nathan and Chipper reconnect : Nathan came from Los Angeles and Chipper, all the way from France

I went to my 30th high school reunion this past weekend. I wasn't sure at all that I wanted to go; for weeks beforehand I spent countless hours angsting with various friends and my therapist about the potential emotional pitfalls of this event. My high school had over 3000 students in just 3 grades.....844 in my graduating class alone. After I graduated, I left home, moved out -moved away from my hometown vowing never to return. Have never been to a previous reunion. Would anyone I know be there? Would people be friendly? What would I have to say to people I haven't seen or spoken to in three decades? Would people still foolishly expect me to look as I did 30 years ago ?
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Went to my 25th college reunion last fall, which turned out to be semi-hideous, in spite of the fact that I graduated from a small, fairly intimate private university. Hubster's guy friends were all fairly fun; men are so simple. They just want to get drunk and tell all their old war stories one more time. Women are so much more complex. I keep up with a few old girlfriends, have lunch once in awhile, see a movie. Those friendships are current and never a problem. Many of my old gfs, however, once intelligent competitive students, are now mostly trophy wives; all they have left to compete over are material possessions. Boring !
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For this upcoming high school reunion, one of my old gfs was guilt-trip dragging me into going with her for solidarity's sake. She said her therapist told her to get out of her rut and try new social situations.
"So let me get this straight," I said. "I am going to an event I don't particularly want to go to, because of what YOUR therapist said?"
"Yes," she answered.
"And how is high school a NEW social situation, exactly?"
"I need to see my peeps,"she replied.
"Who do you keep up with? Who are your 'peeps'?" I said.
"Well.... there's you, " she said.
And there you have it.
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I kept thinking that surely something would come up, at the last minute, and I could bag it. Nothing appeared on the horizon as a handy excuse - of course, I could have just lied and made something up. Several gfs did. My personal weakness is that I can't ever really sell it, ( the lie I mean) can't really convince even myself, unless it's based on something real. My shrink tried to convince me to "be the change you want to see in the world" and all that psycho-babble. Her idea of fun : sit back and watch the event. After talking to various people who were also trying to decide whether or not to go, I came to the realization that everyone feels insecure about these events. We just handle them in different ways. Some people will spend the year prior investing huge amounts of time, exercise, plastic surgery, fashion make-overs into getting ready for the big day. Maybe I'm just too lazy, maybe I'm just too poor, but I couldn't go this route for whatever reason. Love me or hate me, but take me as I am. Lot's of self talk in the wee hours : "You have two degrees from a major university. You're a well respected professional who is kind to others, and a good friend. People like you. Just be yourself." Yeah, right.
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Had a pre-event luncheon with one of my gfs to plan a strategy for this weekend. We both realized we each owned about 15 min of mindless chit-chat; after that, the joke was over. We made a pact to split when that moment arrived. In spite of the fact that I am fairly introverted, I decided to summon whatever social skills I could, and be the one to organize some activities in conjunction with this reunion that would bring the people I know and care about together. Try to get control of the situation and make it what I wanted it to be. (All while my therapist is trying to get me to recognize that I can't control/change/shape everything the way I want, and that sometimes I need to just let go and be more zen.) Where would we be without therapy these days?

My core group of best friends shared a calm dinner before festivities began : Dave, Judy, Caroline, me, hubster

In the end, it turned out to be not nearly as bad a reunion weekend as I worried it would be. There was the main event, a Saturday evening semi-formal cocktail party in a rented ballroom downtown, as well as several smaller meetings and luncheons of sub-groups of friends at other times and venues. The Sat night event was the least interesting activity of the weekend, however, and I was glad it was not the only one I went to. It was way too crowded, the a/c experienced system failure ( disaster in this city where weekend weather was topping 104 each day) and the music was so loud that no one could talk at all. I got to say " Hi ! How are you ?" to the ten people I knew there and that was about it. Far more fun was a Friday night intimate dinner with friends and a casual outdoor mixer, where I visited with an old high school bf and several core gfs. I hadn't seen or spoken to this boy in over 30 years, but found him the same thoughtful quiet smart person I had been drawn to, all those years ago. The Saturday night main event was full of ken and barbie doll look-a-likes; there's a lot of pressure growing up in a town where many graduates go on to become Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders, all of whom are still active in the "Mrs Texas" pageant scene. Hubster, a Yankee, was surprised how many tall, thin, tanned blonds there are in my old high school graduating class.

Jane and Lauren, whom I've known since early childhood

By far the most interesting folk, the ones I felt the deepest interest in chatting with, however briefly, were girls from my childhood years, earlier than high school days. It was fun to run into members of my elementary school, or old girl scout troop.

The jr high gang. front : Stretch, Amy, me, Spud. back : Tiny Tim, Amazing Amoeba, Lauren, and Randy

The highlight of the entire weekend, however, was a luncheon with friends from my junior high days. Some of us are a bit hard to find these days, but many made the effort to show up. We were all a nerdy smart bunch, many years ago, and bonded together partly out of safety and partly because we all found each other so funny. This group of people has the power to make me laugh so hard, my eyes tear up and I start laughing, crying, and blowing snot. Old jokes from back in the day, new jokes about politics, our jobs, our lives, nicknames for various people we know, satires of movies or books - doesn't matter what the subject is. We looked at old yearbooks with notes scrawled in them from each other and shared memories of favorite teachers. Made promises not to let another 30 years go by without seeing each other.

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Overall, it was an OK weekend. I really enjoyed the small group events and survived the major cattle call event. Came away with a new found appreciation for my own little hubster, who, like Goldilocks felt upon finding the baby bear's bed, seems just about right to me. Not too oily and used-car salesman-like, or mullet-headed redneck-y, or Eric Stratton, Rush Chairman from Animal House "DamnGladToMeetYou"ish, as many of the other boys - now men- at my high school reunion seemed. People were kinda freaked out that I not only understand what it is that he does, but that I can explain it to you in terms you can understand. But hey, that's my life.

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I'm not strong on conclusions, but I found some quotes that help sum up my thoughts on this topic:

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No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man. Heraclitus

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Time, which changes people, does not alter the image we have retained of them. Marcel Proust

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Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom. Marcel Proust

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A friend who is far away is sometimes much nearer than one who is at hand. Is not the mountain far more awe-inspiring and more clearly visible to one passing through the valley than to those who inhabit the mountain? Kahlil Gibran

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When it was all over, I showed my mom pix of people from the big weekend. "How are her parents? Do they still live in the old neighborhood? Is her dad still alive ? How many kids does everyone have ? " My mother was full of questions. Questions which I realized I forgot to ask. It was so much more fun, just retelling all our old jokes from back in the day. I should have written all that stuff out.

Summer Road Trips : New Braunfels, Gruene, San Marcos

Guadalupe River in New Braunfels, Tx

In college days, we used to go to the New Braunfels (central Texas town, near Austin, settled by German farmers in the 1840's) area to "tube" down the Guadalupe River on hot summer days. This activity is still popular today; groups of "tubers" link together with a lazy ankle resting on one another's inflated (18 wheeler giant sized inflated ) tube, with one extra tube designated as the beer cooler holder, and down the river you go. The Guadalupe is spring fed from a source back in the hill country and water temp is a constant 68 degrees even when the air temp is 100 or higher. It is a lovely way to spend a summer's afternoon, with a slight buzz and numb cold bottom, drifting along as the current takes you, looking at the bright blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds.

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Around 1979 the first Schlitterbahn Water park was born, right on the banks of the Guadalupe River, with the original water rides, slides, and swimming pools fed out of that wonderful clear cold water diverted from the river itself. Over time the park grew to include two additional sites, a few blocks away ( now a free shuttle bus hauls barefoot wet swimmers from one to another) , with newer and improved rides. (Later additions now include S'bahn water parks in Galveston and South Padre Island. I like the original New Branfels park the best, esp the older original areas with giant oak trees and shady spring fed pools.) The most recent addition has rides with names like "Master Blaster" that are truly roller coasters with water flumes , combined. There are also man-made beaches, giant wave machines that propel thousands down man-made rivers, as well as restaurants, tiki-huts, swim up bars, souvenir shops, little kiddie playlands, picnic areas, and many other features.

Upon the recommendation of a friend of mine who has kids the same age and whose children loved going to Schlitterbahn each summer, it became, years ago, a family tradition to take my own children down there each year for a little summer road trip. We soon learned that a day at the water park requires two nights at a local hotel : one the night before, so as to get an early start that morning (when the lines for the popular rides are shortest) and to have a place to crash that night (all day in the surf and sun is too exhausting to drive back to the DFW area). Most years I just searched for a bargain hotel on one of the various travel websites, but lately, I have become a fan of the all-suites hotel chains; that way the kids can have a separate room and stay up all night watching tv and I can get the beauty rest I need. A complimentary make your own omelet-waffles-eggs and all you can eat fruit-pastry-cereal breakfast that comes with the suite makes for a great start to the day. My friend, I have two magic words for you: "Embassy Suites".

Tommy and his friend Eduardo at S'bahn New Braunfels

Typically, we arrive at the park as it opens, start at the modern end with the really cool rides, and work our way back towards the old section, ending the day lazing away the hottest part of the afternoon in the old section, where the big oak trees shade the spring-fed pools. We are worn out and leave around 5 pm ish, where we go back to the hotel, shower, and get ready for dinner.

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There are many dining choices in the area, everything from German food to BBQ to Tex-Mex, but I tend to fave the tiny little town of Gruene ( pronounced "green" - more German settlers' influence) just up the road apiece from New Braunfels. I once attended a sales meeting somewhere near here back in my regional manager for P & G days, and we all went out, ate BBQ and then went dancing at the Gruene Hall, ( the oldest dance hall in Texas) afterwards. It was a ton of fun and I have loved this little spot ever since. A few years back I discovered one of my absolute fave restaurants in the entire state, the GristMill. In spite of the inauspicious name, this is a charming place, located in an old mill ( the roof is completely missing, and the entire restaurant is al fresco, shade provided by massive oak trees) that sits along a high bluff over-looking the Guadalupe River. Food is of the steaks-CFS-seafood variety and is pretty good, with full bar, great salads, a million dollar view and tons of charm.

Two tired boys, ready to eat their weight in chicken fried steak

After dinner, there is plenty of dancing at the Gruene Hall, next door ( if you have any energy left) or a little bit of light shopping at the stores in Gruene (antiques, kitsch,Texeana, and ice cream). Leave some money, time and energy for the fabulous outlet malls in San Marcus - the best in the state, maybe the country. It's just about the perfect road trip.

Summer Road Trips : Blanco,Tx

Fields of lavender near Blanco, Texas (34 miles south west of Austin in the Texas hill country). The Blanco Lavender Festival, which has changed dates while attempting to catch the lavender actually blooming, was June 13 this year.

The Stagecoach Inn in Salado, Texas

I took my mom to the Blanco Lavender Festival this past weekend, and the story of our adventure proves there is no dull moment, even for a pair of little old ladies, which we are. Sure, it seemed like the quintessential female bonding experience, and in many ways, it was. That stuff just never comes in the form you expect it.
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We started out early Saturday morning and were on the road by 8 am. Normally it's about 4 hours to Austin, driving slow (and I don't), so I figured we'd be there before it got too hot this fine June day. Weather forecasters predicted near 100 degree temps in central Texas......My first mistake was to be tuning the radio dials as I sailed past the 35E vs 35W highway split, and instead of turning onto 35W and leaving DFW through Ft Worth (about 30 miles less distance, and countless hours of traffic, stress and stomach lining less than taking the 35E trough Dallas route). As we approached the downtown Dallas 35 and 20 interchange, we saw that the entire freeway was shut down - on a Saturday morning? Took an off-ramp into south Dallas to avoid sitting on the freeway for hours (my motto has always been, "better to be lost and driving aimlessly for hours, than sitting still for hours") and saw that the cause of the backup was a jack-knifed tractor trailer on the on-ramp to 20, which caused the police to shut down all lanes going anywhere, to clear it. Drove aimlessly through south Dallas for awhile - fortunately all the pimps, whinos, drug dealers and street grifters were safely asleep this early in the morning - and eventually got back on the freeway, heading south.
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By 11 am, we were in Salado ( in spite of heavy traffic from the Belton/Temple area, going southward, as we traced our journey down 35 towards Austin) and I was feeling so cocky I thought there was plenty of time to pull over and have lunch at the Stagecoach Inn in Salado. Mom was a little unsure if we could spare the time, but the food was so tasty and the atmosphere so charming, cool and relaxing, we were later glad that we did. Mom regaled me with stories of her college days at Baylor, where she used to sneak out of her room to eat at the Stagecoach Inn, because she didn't like the dorm food. I think it was the naughtiest thing she ever did. Our lunch break was serendipitously the most fun we had, all day. Because we beat the noontime rush, we were back on the road by 11:45, so temptingly close, and yet, so far. Temperature was starting to climb as we headed south, into the high 90's.
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We had noticed, as we were driving, what seemed like an awful lot of motorcyclists on the road this morning. I have friends who are Harley enthusiasts, and they ride with a club that toodles around back country roads on Saturday mornings. As we drew closer to Austin, we noticed more and more cyclists, and these folk didn't have quite the same "look" to them as my neighbors (he is a dentist, she is a graphic artist - suburban Yupsters). Still I didn't really mind - we can all share the road, I thought charitably- but as we drove through Georgetown, the traffic slowed to a crawl. Now I know Austin is not the charming little town it once was, and traffic is frequently a nightmare. I had carefully avoided weekday rush hour or weekend "get out of town" traffic - this was a Saturday morning, after all. Surely the number of folk on the road wouldn't be THAT bad. Well, it turns out, (I learned this as I tuned the radio once again, this time to an Austin NPR station), this very day and place was home to "the largest motorcycle rally in all of Texas", comprised of members of the Republic of Texas (check out their website someday!) motorcycle "club". By this point the highway was overwhelmed with folks on their motorcycles, coming from all over the state, all weaving in and out of traffic. Traffic made the road a virtual parking lot as we attempted to drive through downtown Austin. Music was blaring, folks were shouting, giving each other the finger- my mother was visibly tense from the scariness ( to a little old lady) of it all. As soon as you would try to steer around the bikers, one would cut in front of you and you had to slam on your brakes to avoid running into him. Blanco is only 34 miles southwest of Austin. We didn't get there till 3 pm.

By this point, the temperature had climbed to 104 (on my car thermometer that measures outside air temp). Our tempers were short; mine from all the stop and go traffic, my mom's from the unexpected frisson from being in close proximity to thousands of rough looking bikers wearing leather, with scraggly beards, tattoos, etc. It turns out that many of the motorcycle enthusiasts decided to take in the Blanco Lavender Festival as well, perhaps on their way to their ROT rally. Maybe the old lady riding on the back of the bike wouldn't stop her whining till her man placated her with some arts & crafts, ice cream and lavender sachets. Whatever the reason, it was an unusually diverse group of folk taking in the flowers, food, arts & crafts at this festival. Popularity for this little festival has grown to the point that there was no parking for miles. All the lavender had already been picked by the time we arrived. The crowd was filled with little old ladies, like ourselves, wearing purple dresses and big straw hats, and also the leather halter top wearing wrinkled old biker broads with sagging boobs and tattoos. Their men sat impatiently on their bikes parked on the square, revving them constantly so that no one could even hear the country music being played at the festival. The exhaust from all those bikes just added to the heat and grit being blown around. Together, we all shopped the festival for tchotchkies and food. Mom and I sampled some lavender lemonade, which was quite tasty. (Most booths had run out of lavender ice cream, hours before.) It was so hot, and so crowded, however, it dampened our enthusiasm for shopping. (Support the arts!) We faded quickly in the heat and started back to our car. The few blocks away that we had parked had seemed like nothing on our way in, but on our way out, stretched for miles. The sun poured down on us mercilessly; I felt like someone who was in the French Foreign Legion trudging through the desert. Fortunately, just as mom was about to drop into the dust, a little old farmer on a golf cart, wearing overalls and a straw cowboy hat, showed up and offered us a ride to our car. Just in the nick of time.

We decided to take a different route on our way home. After careful consideration and some studying of the map, we chose highway 281 through the Texas hill country. It proved to be an excellent idea- full of beautiful scenery, two full wide lanes, not heavily trafficked, where I could comfortably drive my usual 80-90 mpr with no cops to slow us down. I vowed to never head south again but on this particular road. My mother discovered, to her dismay, that the chocolate bars she had earlier crammed into her purse had melted into a gooey mess all over her good handbag. This fact just made the day seem like a near total failure. We got quiet and listened to the radio for awile as we drove. That optical illusion of water puddles appeared on the road, when it shimmers in the heat and sun. By now the number of bikers on the highway had diminished. At one point, late in the day, we saw a lone biker come flying south towards Austin. My mom shouted out at him, "Buddy , you are late for the party ! " as she waved her fist out the car window.

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We concluded our trip with a stop in Clifton, which only took us 2 hours to get to from Blanco, in order to visit my dad who is in a nursing home there. My parents have been divorced now for 30 years, so I dropped mom off on the old timey downtown main drag of Clifton so she could kill time shopping while I saw my dad. In all the trips I've made to that town the past several years, I have never taken the time to stop and explore it - just there and back , check "visit dad" off my list of of the many things to do in my life. Leave it to my mom to find all these adorable art galleries, cute shops, and a really great little cafe, the White Horse Station, where we ate dinner before heading home. Thelma and Louise we are not.

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We got home late, around 10:30 pm. All in all, it was an exhausting, but interesting, day. I discovered, much like Dorothy in the "Wizard of Oz", that I have more lavender growing in my own backyard than there was at the Blanco Lavender Fest, and maybe don't really need to venture that far from home for it, ever again. Certainly not if it coincides with the Republic of Texas motorcycle rally, or a day forecast to be anywhere near 100 degrees.