Dear Dallas, Texas:
I don't think I like you much. Not the way your crop of shiny new penny skyscrapers insinuate themselves into the sky like show-off children at a reality television talent contest. Not your endless shuttle of hermetically sealed worker ants over and along your snarl-knit flyover bridges and tangled crawl of five lane concrete conveyor belts. You are not San Francisco or Chicago. You are not London New York Paris Munich. You are pop music beating a tin pan alley beat. You are proof that there is indeed a health care crisis in these here united states, but it has nothing to do with the fact that 30 percent of us can't afford insurance, but, rather, with the fact that 70 percent of us are never out of our cars/offices/Starbucks/Chili's and Chick-fil-A's long enough to move our bodies into any semblance of good health. Your people, Dallas, they have no guidance or grace.
Dear All Situational Awareness Deprived Drivers Along I-20,
The left hand lane is not a cruising lane. It is not your living room, locker room, or confessional. It is not where you take the shiny new SUV your husband just bought you out for a Sunday drive while sucking on a non fat decaf soy macchiato and yammering into a cell phone to your BFF. The left hand lane is a passing lane, and when you see me coming up behind you in your rear view mirror, pull over and get the hell out of my way. It's late, I'm tired, and all I've had to eat today is a congealing compound of grease, sugar, and sodium that is not only infusing its way into my arteries, but also into my brain. So at some point, I'm not going to give a shit if I take the front end of this rental car and shove it up the backside of your ridiculously lemon-yellow colored Humvee outfitted with a winch and fog lights you are going to use . . . when? I am older, smarter, better dressed, and I have more insurance. Just be glad that because I chose to carry-on my luggage, I am also not armed.
Dear Shreveport, Louisiana,
You seem like you'd be a nice city to visit. If it weren't for those hideous casinos. What happens in Vegas really needs to stay in Vegas.
Dear Ruston, Louisiana,
I love the way you've charmed yourself up with historic homes and bustling boutiques and hopefully overpriced bistros attempting sushi and swank. Very pretty. Too bad it rained the entire time I was there and there was no way I could justify contributing to the local economy by buying another A-line tunic dress I just don't need, much less charge a meal at the bistro to my client, so instead I ended up with a couple limp attempts at Cajun/creole that put my tummy into yet another grumbled state. What, does everyone in the state want to be New Orleans? Although, it was a kick to see Grambling's head football coach piling his plate with lo mein at the local Chinese joint. Had I actually known who he was at the time he broad-smiled his way around me to the pot stickers, I would have asked for his autograph for S.B.
Shhhhhhhh. And I didn't even bring him a tee shirt this time, dang it.
17 comments:
I'm confused, I was under the impression that any border crossing into Texas they searched your car to make sure you were carrying? And give out loaners if you weren't? Don't they also check for female hair height? I'm pretty sure that's why Louise wanted to avoid Texas. Texas Hair Height regulations.
Happy you are back safe and sound (mostly) and until the Hubs starts bringing home the meat, travel gifts could be few and far between.
Great rant on driving in Texas. Dallas is one of my least favorite cities as well.
Dear Moi,
Can I give Blowfish to you?
You might actually enjoy his rant about those who squat in the passing lane doing all manner of things except driving.
I think he does have fantasighs about being armed and girlie hummers.
He however is not better dressed and more insured.
Shamu: You're still pissed about that elk, aren't you?
Milk River: I have visited many places more traffic snarled than Dallas. But none so utterly lacking in the charm that makes me forgive it.
Fishy: The more I hear about Blowfish, the more I like him.
I love it when you get all ranty, just sorry you had to experience this in order to write a good post about it.
NO T Shirt for S.B? Wow, it really must have sucked.
Welcome home. I hope your weekend involves the couch, the remote, golf channel and cheetos. xoxox.
Oh, don't EVEN get me started on that "The Left lane IS THE FAST LANE, Dipshit !!" rant. I'd go NUTZ !
Am so glad to hear an anti-Dallas post ... all we get around here is how wonderful things are down there. Well, I say, they are an OKC wannabe. And why I'm a little resistant to the "growth" needed to move my state along a notch. However, having said that, oh girl, I have had me some fun times in Dallas. And if you think driving in Dallas is bad .... piece of cake compared to Houston.
Other than that Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play?
Seriously, you know my position on the left lane. If we just started executing people for being in the left lane unless their passing, the problem would go away in no time.
Have a good weekend!
Pam is right about Huston.
In a word? Yes.
Lol to the Texas Hair Height regulations, Shamy! And happy homecoming, Moi!
Boxer: Cheetos, maybe, but I'll have to eat them with toothpicks at my desk.
Heff: I don't care if drivers go fast in the left lane so long as they get out of my way if I'm going faster. I do the same thing if I see someone coming my way.
Pam: I do believe Houston might be the armpit of the universe, but the jury is still out. I meet a lot of Okies when I'm out and about and you are unfailingly polite to your fellow travelers.
Karl: I liked Ruston, Louisiana a lot.
Shamu: If you want something to get really upset about, deer season is up next.
Eggy: The hair is not only big, it's also . . . frothy.
Back in the mid-'80s when I was living in Atlanta, I never understood what people hated about downtown Atlanta . . . until I was sent to downtown Dallas for four days on business without a rental car to get the hell out of there. Then it all made sense. Highlight of my trip was dropping my bags in the hotel room and scurrying off to Dealey Plaza, figuring it would be my one and only lifetime chance. Other than that, Mrs. Kennedy, how was the parade?
Czar: For some reason, I don't have the same reaction when I'm in Atlanta. Maybe it's because I just like the city so much, which, I realize, is easy to do when I don't actually live there.
Atlanta's neighborhoods are great. Downtown is still sterile and corporate. I was referring only to the downtown area, especially in the 1980s, just for clarification.
Czar: I think that's what I like best about Atlanta. That contrast. Entering a residential neighborhood is like going back in time; downtown is like a Sci-Fi movie.
Moi, why do so many people not understand how to drive in the fast lane? And worst of all, seeing cars/trucks driving in it with their hazards on!
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