Aubrey, Texas

As some of you may know, I have changed jobs and left the Frisco Police Department to go "private sector" with a security firm that provides site security for the U.S. District Court in Plano, Texas (among others) in conjuction with the U.S. Marshal's Service. I have joined a band of "merry men" (no...not in tights) who do entrance security ala TSA, courtroom security while in session, and video surveillance of the interior and exterior of the courthouse. A true bunch of pistol-packing old guys doing our bit to protect America.

One of of my brand-spanking-new friends is Doug. Doug, I have learned, has a most varied résumés as anyone I've met. Doug has been a Constable and Deputy Sheriff with the Denton County Sheriff's Office as well as a bunch of other things I cannot possibly list in this writing. But one thing that he's really passionate about is the music business. He's not only an accomplished musician in his own right, he also has a business as a sound engineer. As American Sound Productions, he's the guy you hire to wire, light and amplify for live music venues. Dianna and I love open air music events and Doug invited us to one he was working on in the town square park in  Aubrey, Texas.

Aubrey was officially founded in 1867, when Civil War veteran Lemuel Noah Edwards (1838–1910) built one of the first homes. Aubrey is about twelve miles northeast of the city of Denton (county seat of Denton County) and forty miles north of Dallas in northeastern Denton County. The site was originally named Onega (Ornega, Ornego) when the Texas and Pacific Railway built a section house there in 1881.The name was not very popular so in typical old west style, the name Aubrey was drawn from a hat to replace the name Onega.

Although the Key Schoolhouse settlement, established in 1858 by Dr. George Key, was only about a mile from what became the downtown part of Aubrey, Edwards, a Civil War veteran from Alabama, is given credit for founding the town. He built the town's second house, a large, imposing, two-story structure, of lumber hauled from Jefferson in 1867. He then eventually gave each of his 10 children (holy cow, I wonder how Mrs. Edwards felt about that) a lot on which to build a home.

After the first businesses, east of the railroad tracks, burned in 1887, the town was rebuilt west of the tracks, where it stands today (as well as the railroad...more on that later). By 1920 Aubrey had more than thirty businesses and a population of 700. The automobile, the boll weevil, and the Great Depression contributed to the decline of the population over the next several years.

By the 1980s peanuts had replaced cotton as the number-one crop; an annual average of 3,000 tons is processed in the local drying plant. The sandy, fertile land and the moderate climate have attracted many horse ranchers to the area, which, according to some, is becoming the "horse capital" of Texas. Other farm products include cattle, hay, fruits, and vegetables. In 1986, Ray Roberts Dam was completed nearby on the Elm Fork of the Trinity River which has boosted the economy and has added to the towns growth of new home development.

Back to the concert.  It was a remarkable late spring day in North Texas. The temperature had soared to 90 but a strong southern wind was able to keep the humidity in check and quickly cooled temperatures as the sun set. We booted up Patty for the 30 minute ride from the homestead north to bucolic Aubrey. The park was just a green patch, just less than an acre, with a neat covered stage at one end. The Summer Concert "Music in the Park" series is sponsored by the Aubrey Economic Development Corporation and several town businesses.

Dianna and I had packed our usual wine refreshments with two clear plastic cups and our trusty PVC folding lawn chairs. I went to the little snack table and bought a Snickers Bar for Dianna and a small bag of M&Ms for myself (chocolate really goes well with wine). We initially sat to the left of the stage, well back in the growing crowd but when Doug came up he insisted we sit just behind his chairs in "sound central" to get the best effect.

We sat as the opening act, a local singer-songwriter named John Rutherford, sang for the late stragglers and allowed Doug to fine-tune the sound for the main act, Mark David Manders , another singer-songwriter based in Plano, Texas.

As John Rutherford strummed and entertained, we all got a reality check and discovered how it is to live in rural Texas. Remember that railroad track that runs through town? Well it actually runs right behind the park stage and every hour on the hour, a large Union Pacific Railway freight train would announce its arrival and roll for several minutes as it made its way north or south of town. John would stop each time it passed and then continue.

As the sun settled in for the night, Doug moved his operation to the light board a few feet away. You wouldn't know it by looking at him, but Doug has got "techie" written all over him. Doug is a "60 something" but has almost completely automated his sound system using his iPad (yes...there's an app for that). Wirelessly, he stalks the venue listening and tweaking his sound to get the most out of the players and the equipment. He finally settled in at his light board to paint the stage for mood and accent.

When Mark David Manders and his band took the stage bringing Bob Wills and Merle Haggard standards with them, they too had to suffer the train and horns but would immediately break into a "train Country song" (think Johnny Cash "Folsom Prison Blues") until it passed. Mark's band was great but his fiddle player was really phenomenal. Manders and the boys went on for about an hour and a half and at one point brought a gaggle of little girls up on stage to help him on a rendition of   "I'm Alright"   and then did his seminal work "Beer". To close, Mark even did his best Mick Jagger imitation for a rendition of "Honky Tonk Women" the 1969 hit song by the Rolling Stones. Not bad, if I say so myself.

As we listened and watched, it came to me we were witnessing a scene that has been playing out throughout America for decades. Just folks sitting, eating and drinking mindful of their little ones running about in their own world ignoring the music but more about time away from their regular Monday through Friday lives. Laughing, joking and toe tapping. The American and Texas flags waving in the wind. It was good and clean and it was America. It really doesn't get any better than this.

Palestine, Texas

Palestine, Texas (pronounced Pal-uh-steen) "The Hillbilly Capital of East Texas", Palestine was named for Palestine, Illinois, by early settler Daniel Parker. Interestingly, French explorer Jean Lamotte gave the Illinois Palestine
(common pronunciation Pal-es-tine) the name as it reminded him of the promised land of milk and honey, as written in the scriptures. Thus, the insufferable need for Texans to redefine the language and changing the pronunciation remains a mystery to all.

In 1846, the Texas Legislature created Palestine to serve as seat for the newly established Anderson County. James R. Fulton, Johnston Shelton and William Bigelow were hired by the first Anderson County commissioners to survey the surrounding land and lay out a town site, consisting of a central courthouse square and the surrounding 24 blocks. It grew significantly following the arrival of the railroad in the 1870s.

Arrival of the International-Great Northern Railroad in 1872 led to the demise of local river shipping along the seasonally high Trinity River, as the railroad opened year-round travel. The railroad also changed the face of the town, since the line bypassed the courthouse hill and built its shops, switching yards, and offices on level ground nearly a mile to the west. Palestine is also the site of the Texas State Railroad Museum, now a state park, which operates steam excursion trains between Palestine and Rusk. 

By 1896, a new depot had been constructed. Large quantities of cotton, lumber, cottonseed oil, and fruit were shipped from Palestine. During the 1880s and 1890s stores, saloons, and lodging houses rapidly formed a new business district by the tracks. This resulted in two business districts, Old Town and New Town, a designation still used today.

Like many Texas towns, the discovery of oil in the late 20’s diversified the town's economy and carried Palestine through the Great Depression. Several producing fields were later found in Anderson County, and Palestine became a center for oil well servicing and supplies.

Palestine made the news in February 2003, as one of the East Texas towns that received much of the debris from the Space Shuttle Columbia disaster. In honor of the seven astronauts killed, they renamed the NASA Scientific Balloon Facility to the Columbia Scientific Balloon Facility, which routinely flies weather, and other atmospheric research balloons from the site.

The largest employer is the Texas Department of Criminal Justice, which employs more than 3,900. Another 1,600 work at two Wal-Mart distribution centers. The Powledge Men’s Prison is a remarkable assemblage of three separate campuses who’s industrial capacity provide steel products for everything from replacement and construction items for the Texas Prison system to repair facilities for the Texas Department of Transportation (TxDOT). Named after Louis C. Powledge, a former Assistant Director of Contract Construction, it consists of Beto, Coffield, Gurney and Michael units. Coffield is the TDCJ's largest prison with about 4,200 prisoners. The complex also has an extensive prison farm to supplement its food supply.

Being the county seat of Anderson County, Palestine has a very nice Courthouse on a hilltop at the center of “Old Town”. Of course, being a Saturday, it was not open and I can only show you the interior of the 1914 Renaissance Revivalist style building with its judicious use of brick and stone through the eyes of  Terry Jeanson who was able to capture the interior dome skylight, courtroom and the unusual painted floor mural at the base of the spiral staircase. You might note this courthouse was designed by Charles Page and is almost a twin of the Williamson County Courthouse he designed back in 1911 we saw in Georgetown, Texas with Silvia and Scott.

We kind of lucked out in that the day we decided to find Palestine, was the second weekend of The Dogwood Trails Festival, which occurs each Spring, the last 2 weekends of March and the 1st weekend in April.

The best moment of the trip, was when we had left the courthouse because Dianna had to find a bathroom….yeah, ever had this happen? I’m playing junior historian taking my typically visually stunning photos (ala Ansell Adams..if he shot color I mean) of the courthouse exterior.

As I return to the front to cull the best shot of the rising portico before me, I caught a flash of gesturing from Dianna like she was trying to get the attention of a passing Bruce Willis. I put up a finger to pause her gesturing to give her the, “I need a minute to place the shot that may get me that photography ribbon at the County Fair” look. But Dianna calls out that this was a “we need to go now” demand not a request as she dove into the front passenger seat of the Rogue like Special Agent Parr rushing Reagan into the Presidential Limo.

I have seen similar behavior before and realize this is a Code 3 bathroom call, which cannot be delayed further. We wisk off as I’m dialing in Patty to search for nearby restaurants like a Shuttle pilot working in a course correction. The first selection was closed and the second was a neat place called The Ranch House in the heart of the Old Town park area. I stopped long enough for Dianna to hop out and, after locating parking, joined her in the restaurant. They had a really strong basic southern menu heavy on steak (chicken fried and otherwise) and seafood with an ample selection of comfort foods like cornbread, green beans and fried okra. This is the “new” Ranch House, the first burned down in 2010 and they’ve been reopened a little over two years. I had the grilled Tilapia and Dianna had the chicken fingers. Nice portions.

Oh yeah, best moment was when the country-pretty young woman server came up for our order. Not knowing about the festival, Dianna asked her what it was all about.  Without missing a beat, she put her hands on her hips and with the best “Well, bless your hearts” smile southerners do with friendly condescension to all non-southerners, “Ya’all aren’t from around here, are you?” At times like this, in my weak attempt to bridge the regional gap, I usually remind people that we were originally from Southern California and not the dreaded “Yankees” we appear to be. But, in this case, I demurred as she went on to explain we had stumbled onto their world-renowned Dogwood Trails Festival. In its 75^th year celebrating a new Texas Spring and the blossoming of the Dogwoods native to this part of east Texas. Finished at the Ranch House, we waddled down the hill and back up to “New Town” to visit the street fair going on.

Leap of Faith today

Palestine has tried very hard to keep its downtown vibrant and has invested heavily in art as well as restoring old buildings. Most of the sculptures are mounted on 3-foot-tall custom stands of three vertical train wheels positioned on a concrete base or pad. The stands will remain a part of the downtown landscape as a reminder of the town's railroad heritage and to display annual shows of sculpture artists. One of these is something called Leap of Faith by Diane Von Buren a renowned public space artist and designer.

Leap of Faith in better days

The city refers to the public art as Art Tracks, an outdoor sculpture exhibit at several prominent locations in the historic Main Street District of downtown Palestine. Union Pacific Railroad Company has a huge rail yard, train siding and depot at the south edge of downtown and its suppliers donated the railroad wheel stands.

This one, in front of the Redland’s Hotel is called “Sitatunga” by Dan Pogue. Pogue’s new series of animals are mostly African inspired with a contemporary flair. Pogue uses shapes and spaces to make the form of the animal. Some, like Sitatunga, are polished bronze. Pogue takes solid pieces and carving out “negative spaces” creates the overall image.

The street was full of happy street fair goers but one vendor caught Dianna’s eyes. She is and always has been a closet cotton candy purveyor. That bright fuzzy pink and blue stuff attracts her like a bug light to a moth. And, like most addicts, she made some kind of excuse that buying this intoxicating mana benefited the local high school prom fund. Yeah…. right, how many times have you heard that one.

After buying up some vendor trinkets, perusing the finest in fancy jewelry and velvet paintings, having made our way to the west end of the Festival, we were halted in place with the smell of a fried food vendor with a row of fryers reminiscent of the locks of Panama putting out the same texture of smoke enveloping you whenever the mosquito spray truck came through your neighborhood, dunking every conceivable vegetable, meat and condiment you can conjure up in your mind.

What caught our collective eyes was the most beautiful funnel cake I have ever seen. Let me explain, Funnel Cake is our emotional comfort food from our earliest days together. Those of you who recall the food lane at the San Diego County Fair at the Del Mar Fair Grounds (with the now politically correct name of Commercial and Food Space..Ha!) know what I’m talking about. From our early dating days which melted into our married years, the Fair was the place you could find great greasy fried food you couldn’t get anywhere else.

One of those standards was the fried Funnel Cake. Year after year, the sickly sweet smell of cake batter tossed into “seasoned” fryers (which probably contain the same oil from years past), the temperature of the sun, coated with a snowbank of powdered sugar, always brings us back to our past and dredges up memories, both good and bad.

Involuntarily initiating a running video with momentary flashes of  days with loved ones gone by, friends, the children that grew up too fast, like some cinematic measure of one’s life. But always coming back to waiting in line while holding the hand of the girl you ended up marrying and fading back to now with the same image of powdered sugar coating you and her impossibly maneuvering to keep the sugar from hitting you, among a bunch of strangers waiting for their turn to experience the same wonderful feeling….even if only for a moment. A wonderful end of the day in an iconic east Texas town on the verge of the Piney Woods, Palestine, Texas.

Cruise take 4

Like prisoners given a reprieve, we made our way back to the awaiting Rogue and after punching in our next destination, Georgetown, Texas, we were off to visit our longtime friends, Scott and Silvia.

Georgetown was named for George Washington Glasscock (he must have had a terrible childhood) who donated the land for the new town. Georgetown is the county seat of Williamson County, which was formed on March 13, 1848 after early settlers peptitioned the State to create it outr of Milam County. The county was originally to have been named San Gabriel County, but was instead named after Robert McAlpin Williamson (aka Three-Legged Willie), a Texas statesman and judge at the time.

Ok…if you must know, Williamson got his name because, at the age of 15, he contracted tubercular arthritis that caused his right leg to permanently stiffen at a 90 degree angle. In order to walk, a wooden leg had to be fastened to his knee. Because of this, he later acquired the nickname "Three-Legged-Willie" (I was really hoping for something more interesting).

Scott and Silvia live in one of Del Webb’s Sun City senior developments in Georgetown on the outskirts of the Texas Hill Country. Residency is restricted to persons over age 55, or in the case of couples, one of which must be 55 years of age. Sun City is made up predominately of single-family dwellings, but also has a small number of duplexes. Total buildout will be 7,500 homes for about 14,000 residents.

Interesting thing is the power of these Seniors.Because of its size relative to the city (pop. about 47,000) and the high growth rate within Sun City, the project has a significant impact on the local demographics. In elections, voter turnout in Sun City precincts typically exceeds 90 percent. As a result of redistricting of council districts in 2011, two of the six single-member city council districts are composed predominantly of Sun City residents, and the current mayor, George Garver is a Sun City resident and was a former city councilmember.

Georgetown is a bedroom community just north of Austin in the I-45 corridor. It is the County Seat of Williamson County and has been around since the 1840s. Thus it has a wonderful town square with a cool Courthouse. Of course, like many other county courthouses, Williamson County has seen several courthouses over the years. Humble beginnings as a small log cabin courthouse and replaced with larger and more formidable brick and stone buildings. The current courthouse was built in 1910 and has since been replaced by a new brick and glass Justice Center just outside of downtown.

Remodeled back in 2007 as part of a statewide historical preservation effort post-9/11, the present Greek Revival Courthouse was envisioned in the summer of 1909 when the County Court concluded that the 30-year-old Victorian Courthouse built in 1877 was no longer safe. The 1910 courthouse, designed by premier architect Charles Page, no longer hears cases but retains a restored original courtroom and still holds some County offices as well as the Commissioner's Court chambers.

Before restoration 2005

The triple arched stone entryways lead to galleries on four sides and above these passageways are sets of four Ionic columns reaching to the upper floors. The large copper dome is topped by a figure of Justice and large clock faces are inset on each side of the dome. Cornices around the dome are finished in dentil stonework.

After in 2007

Originally, this structure had massive, carved marble pediments above each of the porticoes. The roofline around all four sides was encircled by a balustrade. Once spoken of as the "centerpiece" of downtown Georgetown, the facade was ordered changed in 1965 when a few of the baluster railings became loosened. The entire balustrade and the elaborate marble pediments were removed and eventually destroyed and were replaced by plain beige brickwork. In the 2007 restoration, the balustrades and pediments were beautifully restored to the original 1910 design.

Silvia and I checked out the restored courtroom with its south-facing Judge's bench (a tradition of post-Civil War, sorry TWONA, era courthouses as an allegory of eternal Southern loyalty), jury box, gallery and gem of a classic turn-of-the-century courtroom with a second floor mezzanine.

There were terrazzo floors throughout, made of bits of marble and granite, cemented and polished, the curved stairways with iron grille railings, the stately rotundas capped with a copper dome. We spoke with one of the employees who told us the well appointed yellow pine paneled interior, with fine oak trim, was restored to it's early 20th century glory by a California based company, one of the few that specializes in courtroom restorations.

Down the street, was an imposing fortress-like structure which was the former County Jail. The land for the jail site was David Love's wagon yard which was purchased through the donation of funds by prominent Williamson County residents. The first jail was one of Mr. Love’s wagons turned upside down over the prisoner with a guard perched on top.

The first 1848 structure was of poor design and many inmates were able to escape. Originally built as a wooden building in 1848 and replaced with the current limestone structure in 1888. It’s unique appearance is characterized by it’s designer as a French “Bastille” style construction.  It is now used as an office annex of the Williamson County and Cities Health District.

The historic Williamson County Courthouse was the scene of one of Texas’ most notable dismissals of a long running murder case from 1987. Michael Morton Wrongfully convicted in 1987 in Williamson County of the 1986 murder of his wife Christine Morton. He spent 25 years in prison before he was exonerated by DNA evidence identified under the direction of OJ attorney Barry Scheck’s Innocence Project which supported his claim of innocence and pointed to the crime being committed by another individual. Morton was released from prison on October 4, 2011.

Morton was arrested and charged with beating his wife to death in 1986. He was convicted in 1987 and sentenced to life in prison, but was exonerated after DNA evidence proved that he was innocent. Current Williamson County District Attorney John Bradley (who worked under Anderson when he was the DA) "tenaciously fought" DNA testing for six years before a judge finally ordered the tests. Morton was freed after DNA tests linked another man, Mark Norwood, to Christine Morton's murder. Norwood, a Bastrop, Texas dishwasher who lived in Austin in the mid-1980s, has been charged in the 1986 murder of Christine Morton. He’s also a suspect in the 1988 murder of Debra Baker in her Austin home. Both women were beaten to death in their beds. Little comfort to Baker's daughter Caitlin and son Jesse who, like others, feel their mother might still be alive if the police had followed the clues they had at the time, which may have led to the new suspect, Norwood, sooner.

The prosecuting attorney on the case was Ken Anderson the then Williamson County District Attorney. Because of his 100% conviction rate and strong anti-crime stance, Anderson has since then been elected as a State District Judge in Williamson County. During a review of the files, it was learned that there was a mountain of evidence from neighbors and others implicate someone else in the murder of Morton’s wife. Anderson knew, for instance, that Morton’s then 3 year old son Eric had said he saw a “monster”, not his father commit the murder, and had discussed a trial strategy to explain that what the little boy had seen was really his father dressed in a skin diving suit (wow…that’s a reach).

He also purposely failed to call the lead investigator to testify so the defense would not have access to investigative reports with the many other facts which would have eliminated Morton as a suspect in the case (a clear “Brady” violation). Since the disclosure of the DNA findings and the subsequent exoneration, Judge Anderson has been under investigation by the current Williamson County District Attorney and by the State of Texas for criminal contempt and misconduct in the case.

Unfortunately another case of over-zealous Texas prosecutors who determined the guilt of a defendant before they ever went to trial. One of the reasons Texas had the highest number of exonerations both death sentence and life term convictions. Nationwide there have been 1,085. About 37% are DNA cases and over 63% are cases involving review of evidence and recanting of witnesses identifications.

All this history gathering made us (well...me) hungry so Scott and Silvia took us to a couple of their favorite places to eat. For breakfast we went to a Diners, Drive-ins and Dives restaurant  "Monument Cafe" by the Courthouse. The Monument menu was full of great breakfast items and I had the pancakes and Dianna had the Eggs Benedict on Special. Awesome service and taste, it belonged on Triple D. For dinner, we went to  Hardtails Bar and Grille. A big time hangout for the motorcycle crowd, I had the Slammer burger with green chile, avocado and pepperjack cheese. Dianna had the fish and chips. Make sure you check the list of  lingo you use to describe how you want to dress your meal. Very cool.

On our last outing, they took us to their favorite Mexican place, La Playa Mexican Cafe. I had the Fish Tacos and Dianna had the sour cream Enchiladas. Ok...this place had the best salsas and the most powerful Margaritas we have ever had. One Margie and you were having a hard time holding onto your fork.

Well....vacation over, we repacked our bags and returned home to home, dogs and work looking forward to our next adventure.

Cruise Part 3

This was, after all, only a five day trip so we did a quick overnight run to our second and last stop, Cozumel. We had been to Cozumel a couple of times before and had decided to do another run at the Discover Mexico park and then a couple of hours at the Channapa National Park and take in the food (and beverages) offered at the resort.

It was our second trip to Discover Mexico, a combined effort of the City of Cozumel

and the Mexican Tourist and Visitors Bureau. Interesting little museum of cultural art and a Tequila tasting and educational seminar.  But the gem are the miniatures in the cultural park.  These exhibits tell the story of Mexico's past from the Mayans and Inca  through the Spanish and French occupation. These are well crafted miniatures of important Mayan and Inca cities and temples as well as significant examples of Catholic Cathedrals and French Baroque structures including the Presidential Palace in Mexico City.

Cool story about the Mexican Flag. Many of you may know the flag has, as it's center piece, the Mayan symbol of the eagle holding a snake in its clutches.  That was the sign Mayans were looking for to lead them to the place their followers were to establish the center of their culture and religion. The Mayans traveled the land waiting for this sign and found an eagle clutching the aforementioned snake in the dry lake bed which is today, Mexico City. Now I am well acquainted with the history of the Mayan people and their great artistic and scientific accomplishments. But clearly they didn't get the memo about building a major city on a former lake bed. This has not worked well for the current residents in that their city (the 3rd most populous city on  the planet at around 18.7 million residents) is estimated to be sinking at a rate of about 8 inches per year. Here is our very energetic tour guide Jose Chucho:

That leads to how Mexico got it's name. It has to do with the location of the city and the alignment of the earth, sun and moon.

The city currently known as Mexico City was founded by the Mexica people, later known as the Aztecs, in 1325. The old Mexica city is now referred to as Tenochtitlan. The Mexica were one of the last of the Nahuatl-speaking peoples who migrated to this part of the Valley of Mexico after the fall of the Toltec Empire. Their presence was resisted by the peoples who were already in the valley, but the Mexica were able to establish a city on a small island on the western side of Lake Texcoco. The Mexica themselves had a story about how their city was founded, after being led to the island by their principal god, Huitzilopochtli.

According to the story, the god indicated the site where they were to build their home with a sign - an eagle perched on a nopal cactus with a snake in its beak. The great city Teotihuacán, anchored by the great Pyramid of the Sun (third largest in the world), the building plan and orientation of the buildings at Teotihuacán were built in alignment to the rising and setting of the Pleiades star cluster (as are the pyramids in Egypt) as well as the unique alignment with the setting Sun which casts a shadow of a serpent (Kukulcan/Quetzalcoatl) descending on the northern steps of the pyramid. 

We were then loaded onto a series of Mexican cabs for the ride to Chuapanna. The resort is on the west shore with some of the best snorkeling around. Not wanting to indulge in the water sports, we (well....I) were hungry and we dined at the La Laguna Restaurant. The heavily weighted seafood menu did have some good Mexican standards. Dianna opted for the tostados with chips and guacamole and I had my replacement chicken burger and fries (still watching my girlish figure, no fries). But the best thing was the two classic Margaritas. I know, you ask, what's the big deal with the drinks. Well.....in tourist resorts, where they want you to spend a lot of money, they tend to overshoot with the alcohol, not like the paltry bars and nightclubs in America. After two Margies a piece...we were feeling no pain. After a little birthday shopping for Dianna...we caught the next taxi back to the pier for more shopping and the jog back to the ship.

The last day on a cruise is kind of a let down. Of course all good things must come to an end and your last hours are spent folding and packing your things so the cabin steward can get your stuff below for the transfer back to the pier. Then there is the reverse cattle call of getting off the ship, finding your stuff and lugging it to Customs so they can clear you back in. It's funny to catch yourself and others putting on your best "Don't Tase me Dude" look of innocence even though you haven't done anything wrong but fear the increased scrutiny will sweep you away to secondary and might uncover the fact you may have brought back more alcohol than you're allowed.......not us, nope.

Like prisoners given a reprieve, we made our way back to the awaiting Rogue and after punching in our next destination, Georgetown, Texas, we were off to visit our longtime friends, Scott and Silvia.

Stay tuned for life in Sin (opps..) Sun City and life of the truly retired.

Cruise 2013 Part Two

Once on board, typical of these cruises, we were  thrust into a virtual melting pot of humans yearning for the drink of the day. From bib overall wearing farm folk (no...seriously) to the brightly attired Hindus trailing what seemed like hoards of unrestrained little Hindus (some wearing  leashes...really) or packs of giggling adolescent young women clutching their cellphones to instantly respond to text messages from the girl right next to them.

Most cruisers would agree that Carnival is kind of the "poor mans" cruise line. Don't get me wrong, they have a pretty good all around cruise experience but, probably because of their competitive pricing, kind of attract a certain segment of the cruising public. More beer drinking than wine drinking going on if you know what I mean.

On this particular cruise, there seemed to be a lot of groups of "plus size" women aboard sans men. There's something a little unnerving about watching very overweight 40 somethings dancing on the Lido Deck in two piece bathing suits my daughter might look cute in, with big old rolls testing out Newton’s "action-reaction" principle. Yeah, I know I'm going to be getting some cards and emails but I just don't know if I should admire them for their courage or laugh at their lack of fashion sense.

Of course, game day came on the first sea-day and once everyone was in place to watch the Jumbo-tron on the Lido Deck....... it rained. A cloud burst washed over the ship as we headed south to our first stop in Progreso, Mexico.  Just as quickly as it began it was over and the chicken wings and beer flowed throughout the rest of the night (and ensuing blackout) only to see the 49'ers make an amazing come-back and throw it all away in the final moments of the game.

The rest of the time, the Jumbo-tron is used as a subliminal device to transmit the hypnotic Carnival message to go downstairs and order up another cruise. The viewing area is a large bowl of seating all pointed at the screen. Except for the occasional Miami NBC affiliate television programs and movies, there is a continuous loop showing Carnival ships gliding through placid Caribbean waters silhouetted against beautiful sunsets and equally beautiful, scantily clad people prancing around majestic white sand beaches having the time of their lives. You can see the post-hypnotic suggestion taking hold as one after another make their way below to the Carnival kiosk to sign on the dotted line.

First stop is the port of Progreso. It's a neat place but, interestingly, more a major fishing town and import/export center than cruise line tourist trap. We seemed to be the exception than the rule for the towns folk who primarily service the fishing industry and serve as a vacation destination for the locals from the three states of  Yucatán, Campeche, and Quintana Roo. There isn't even a shopping tour of Progreso. Progreso is one of the gateways to the Mayan Temple of Chichen Itza.    Mérida is the capitol of Yucatán, among the 12th of the most populous Mexican metropolitan areas and has the bulk of the shopping and histrionics.

Of course, personally Mayan Templed out from other cruises, we opted to do something physical because that's how we roll.....well, yeah maybe not. We decided to try something new. Last time it was Segways, this year it is kayaking. Yes, Dianna and I power stroking our way through a nature preserve wetland in a place called Laguna Rosada.

It all sounded good on paper but once off the ship, things took (as is typical of our vacations) an odd turn. Herded onto our classic third-world non-air conditioned bus with our non-English speaking bus driver Gilberto and our very perky guide Graciela.

Graciela is typical of the many tour guides we have come across. Very knowledgeable and energetic but having to make do with a non-event venue and trying really hard to make it fun (sorry, no pictures for fear our phones and the Rocks in my Sandals camera might get wet...as it turned out both a wise and prophetic precaution). The "wetland" was little more than a tideland that, as it turns out, runs out of water during low tide. Guess when we arrived.

Joined by safety man Rueben, we were given a quick safety brief, novice paddling instructions and the mandatory life vests which turned out to be completely unnecessary. Once loaded and launched off into the unforgiving wind and tide, we almost immediately beached on a sand bar. Try as we might, Dianna and I could not get off that sucker only digging the equivalent of a Panama Canal in the silt below us. Guide Graciela happily came by to inform us there may be times one of us (well, me) would  have to exit the craft to pull on the convenient handle at the bow and, like Hugh Jackman in the opening scene of Les Miserables, pull the kayak to deeper waters (she actually said to me with a well practiced twinkle in her eye in her clipped Latin accent, "Remember..we're on an adventure, no?"), get in without tossing your partner into the brine (would not have heard the end of that one) and continue the tour while Rueben and Graciela paddled happily about in their single passenger kayaks. A well-disciplined squadron of naval ships we were not. The untrained eye might not even conclude we were together. Hey..we were all over the place and a hazard to navigation if there had been anybody else out there.

As Graciela and Rueben herded us around the preserve in between squishing slimy silt between my toes and me pulling us off the latest sand bar (seriously..... as we sloughed around, we passed fisherman standing in the middle of these "ponds" in ankle-deep water), we got to see exotic sea birds and a couple of flying fish hurtling about. One in particular was the Cormorant which the Chinese capture and train to catch fish. The fisherman launch the birds from their boats and once caught, the birds disgorge them into their owners hands and go back for more. The birds are restrained from swallowing their catch by a band around their necks but they dutifully retrieve fish after fish until called off.

NOT us

A word about two-person kayaking. I am now convinced it is a "sport" secretly designed by the Devil himself (or herself.....hey, I have an open mind) to test or undermine what seem to be solid married and committed couples, to the brink of divorce and break up. We almost immediately ran into troubled waters when we couldn't get our (well....my) paddling coordinated. Things got out of hand quickly with Dianna finally deciding to stop paddling altogether as we rolled left and right seemingly incapable of holding a straight course leaving me to my own devices. I thought this might make a great "reality" show on Fox.

But we had something the others didn't have (we were the oldest couple there). Bringing forth those couples communication 101 skills we had been so diligently honing all of our 38 years of dating. That's right, I did exactly whatever Dianna told me to do and we successfully navigated our way around and got back to the starting point without a hitch. Well, until I debarked to help Dianna out of the front seat.

See.... for all the lack of water everywhere else in the park, in my haste, I found the only spot at the landing that had a huge drop-off much deeper than I anticipated and I went in right up to my sunglasses. Of course I was the only one cavalier enough not to allow Rueben to retrieve my loved one. So I had the honor of being the only one dripping wet for the trip back to the port.  Oh yeah......you guessed it, I didn't listen to Dianna in bringing that all important change of clothes suggested by the tour description in the pamphlet either. After having huffed and puffed through two hours of kayaking (or pulling off sand bars) we were ready to depart for the ship but not before having two shots of Tequila first to toast our accomplishment.

Re-boarding our venerable bus (I was looking for the DOT number...couldn't find it), Gilberto began the long and arduous ride back to the port and ship. Turns out the harbor (like the tidelands), is very shallow so they had to dredge out the shipping lane at the deepest point but several miles from the nearest strip of land. So the Mexican government (I'm sure involving some misguided stimulus program) decided to build this really long causeway to the pier. This thing goes on for several miles. And the speed limit is 25 miles per hour so if you have say....a full bladder from slamming down water and Tequila, you can imagine my relief (literally) when we got back to the tourist trap entrance to the pier.  Yeah....I didn't listen to Dianna (or Tonia's voice in my head for that matter) telling me to go at the conveniently located bathroom at the kayak landing.

As some of you may know, cruise lines are institutions ruled by the clock. They have very specific rules about being on-time to insure they get from place-to-place in the requisite time alloted. So there is always a warning from the cruise staff that, if you're not on board by the last sound of the horn, you will be rewarded by the best photo-op, a shot of the ship pulling away from the dock. It's up to you to make other arrangements to meet the ship at it's next stop.

Hmmmm, "Keep off Propellers" has there been
a rash of people standing on the ship's propellers?

So it was, that at the appointed hour of 4 p.m. and several pulls of the ship's horn, we still hadn't slacked the lines for departure. Minutes ticked by and we could easily see harbor and ship staff huddled together at the gangway gesturing at the causeway and at each other and a lot of radio chatter from the handheld radios everyone had.

Finally, the subject of all the ruckus, a lone off-white Mexican cab, came careening up onto the pier and slid to a stop at the bottom of the gangway. The back door was flung open and a young couple, with beach and shopping bags in hand, stepped out onto the quay to the jeering and applause of all the passengers leaning over the port rails.

Not to be outdone, the young woman, like a rock star, stepped out of the car, did her best Miley Cyrus two-handed wave back at the crowd. Then, almost on cue, tripped on her flip flop mounting the gangway as they returned to the safety of the ship. Lucky Bastards, I say.

Stay tuned for Part 3....

Mexico Cruise 2013 Part 1

On to Galveston for another cruise to Mexico to reflect on life,  our relationship and drink whatever copious amounts of alcohol that our host Carnival can provide.

Note to reader: Normally, being the type A that I am (yeah...right) I would have immediately put pen to paper to enlighten and hopefully entertain you about our recent cruise. But, when we got home, we learned that the Carnival Triumph follow-on cruise was capturing the world's attention as it floated, powerless, off the coast of its first stop (and ours) Progresso, Mexico. So I held off writing this until the ordeal concluded, thankfully successfully, in the port of Mobile, Alabama. Interestingly, a cruise terminal Carnival had once used extensively and abandoned in an earlier downsizing by the company in October 2011.

After five days at sea first at the mercy of the currents and wind then towed several hundred miles back to Mobile and safety. I'm sure you'll see news stories to describe the experiences of the guests as well as the crew and there will, no doubt, be a plethora of investigations to determine the cause and effects of the on-board fire that struck the great ship impotent. I can only imagine the stories the couple who got married on-board will be telling around campfires and anniversaries to come.

Driving south from Dallas or any major metropolitan area of Texas takes you from bustling metropolis to instant rural backwater. It's not a gradual passing. One minute you're amongst tall buildings bristling with cell towers and the next it's pastures, cows and horses standing at the fences watching the cars and trucks whizzing by.

You drive about five hours and the cows and horses become fewer and farther between then the suburbs of Houston approach and you're back to urban sprawl. A little farther south you pass the Johnson Space Center then skirt the Texas City oil refinery complex where 40% of all the gasoline  in America gets produced, hit the causeway and cross over to the sleepy island of Galveston.

The trip to Galveston was also our chance to see how they've recovered since hurricane Ike, the big storm of 2008. The last time we were there, for a cruise to the western Caribbean, was three months before that terrible storm. The change was stunning. The whole seawall district has been remade. Where once torn and twisted piers stood, are new pilings holding up a new entertainment venue called Pleasure Pier (I know, it had a different connotation when I first heard of the place). Kind of looks like the Island of Lost Boys in Pinocchio.

Of course being neither sports fanatics or crazy party-goers with a penchant for wearing brightly colored beads or flashing people (....well, I can't speak for Dianna), we unknowingly timed it just right (sarcasm just doesn't come across in print) that it was both Mardi Gras and Superbowl weekend in Galveston. Yes....we need to get out more.

We did our usual drive-about of the island and discovered a treasure trove of new beach houses (ah, didn't they get the memo about the hurricanes?), now on really tall stilts. We had seen houses on stilts before but these babies were double the height of the older homes we saw. Somebody must have updated the building code.

Just looking out of our hotel window we discovered an old cemetery right next door (Ok...a little creepy). Rosewood Cemetery was set aside in 1911 as a resting place for the African-American residents of the island. Back in the day, cemeteries were segregated like bathrooms and eating places so the city acquired the land for that purpose. As the years went by and cemeteries became integrated, the lot fell into disrepair and developers began annexing the land for commercial use. the original 8 acres has been paired down to what is now a single acre and has a handful of visible headstones. Makes you wonder where all the others went to not to mention the adjoining lots with other hotels on them, ahhh like the one we were in.

With the increased number of tourists comes an increase in traffic and drunks. To avoid collisions we stopped at our favorite watering hole, Captain Jack's, in front of the Holiday Inn Sun-Spree (weird name) hotel overlooking the sea wall. A favorite of the natives, it affords a thatched roof shelter enabling us to consume the $5 Margaritas at Happy Hour as we people-watch those walking or jogging the seawall. Hey, why do they call it "Happy Hour" when it lasts from 4 to 7? Shouldn't it be "Happy Hours"? The whole thing becomes moot after the second plastic cup of manna rushes down your throat like that first drop at Pirates of the Caribbean.

I asked the bartender how they made out with the last hurricane. She said the bar had been completely wiped away. The bar is on a raised concrete platform right across from the seawall about four feet above the sidewalk. It was pretty much wiped clean and completely rebuilt. As a tribute, the statue of Captain Morgan was returned to his rightful spot  at the entrance but was not repainted as a reminder of the devastation. The Captain stands in his classic pose greeting all who come to repose.

The day of sailing was briefly marred by an urgent email we received stating our ship, the Carnival Triumph, was delayed returning to port because of a mechanical problem (ooohhh...queue the spooky music) delaying its arrival and our subsequent boarding. No biggy...it gave us (me) more time to check out the 1900 Hurricane Museum and Elissa tall ship exhibit at Pier 21.

We discovered the Pier and Museum had suffered major damage in the hurricane. Pier 21 is on the northern side and overlooks the Port of Galveston. Although the hurricane had its effects on most of the island, the port had a double whammy of wind and the storm surge that came up through the shipping channel and arced into the port driving the waterline much higher than  the docks and structures.The pier, museum and restaurants are slightly higher than street level but the museum folks said the surge came up over the pier and brought in around six inches of water into the museum. The Historical Society was able to get some FEMA money to rebuild the pier and the maintenance workshop for the Elissa iron Barque (pronounced Bark) tied up at the pier. If you've been to the Island, you know they have a wonderful theater where they show a great documentary about the 1900 hurricane. They are still working on getting it operational.  

As I mentioned, there is the wonderful iron Barque Elissa alongside the museum. The ship has an interesting tale to tell much of which has to do with its refitting and return to Galveston.

Elissa was built in Aberdeen, Scotland as a three masted merchant vessel in a time when steamships were overtaking sailing ships. She was originally launched on October 27, 1877. Elissa is named for the Queen of Carthage, Elissa (more commonly called Dido), Aeneas' tragic lover in the epic poem The Aeneid.

Elissa has sailed under many names and flags. In 1918, she was converted into a two-masted brigantine and an engine was installed. She was sold to Finland in 1930 and reconverted into a schooner. In 1959, she was sold to Greece, and successively sailed under the names Christophoros, in 1967 as Achaeos, and in 1969 as Pioneer.

In 1970, she was rescued from destruction in Piraeus after being purchased for the San Francisco Maritime Museum. However, she languished in a salvage yard in Piraeus until she was purchased for $40,000, in 1975, by the Galveston Historical Foundation, her current owners. In 1979, after a year in Greece having repairs done to her hull, Elissa was first towed to Gibraltar. The restoration process involved removing all the post-refurbished stuff returning Elissa to her original three masts and sails and continued until she was ready for tow on June 7, 1979 where she was brought to Galveston for completion and display.

Elissa made her first voyage as a restored sailing ship in 1985, traveling to Corpus Christi, Texas. A year later, she sailed to New York City to take part in the Statue of Liberty's centennial celebrations. She was the oldest ship to sail in the tall ship sailing cruise.

Ok…..piece of sailing trivia. What's the fuzzy thing on the line above the yard arm? Well of course.... it's Baggy Wrinkle, Dana. It stops the line from rubbing against and abrading the sail. It's made from many individual short lines tied together and their ends frayed to create a big furry muffler-like bumper for the line.

Because we had some time before boarding, we decided to take an hour tour of the harbor. The port has always been a lifeline port since the Spanish occupied it back in 1816. The Spanish gave way to pirates that helped Mexico rebel against Spain. The pirate Jean Lafitte organized Galveston into a pirate "kingdom" he called "Campeche", anointing himself the island's "head of government". Lafitte remained in Galveston until 1821 when he and his raiders were run off by the fledgling US Navy.The Port was established in 1825 and, after the Texas Revolution, became the new country’s capitol in 1836. By 1839, the city was by then a burgeoning port and attracted many new residents among the flood of German immigrants to Texas in the 1840s and later, including Jewish merchants.

Porpoise Pod in the bay

Because of it's importance, its played a major role in the building of America.  Because of that, Galveston became one of the most advanced and wealthiest cities in America in the late 1800s. First all-electrical city and playground to the rich and famous. Galveston was considered  an important financial center in it's hay days some say equal to New York or San Francisco. Just as important as New Orleans in the exporting of cotton, beef and importing of manufactured goods, it was a strategic holding for the South in the TWONA and came under blockade by the Northern Navy to stop the flow of goods supporting the Southern economy.

Although still an important port today, it really lost it's edge when the great storm of 1900 came through.  Because of the devastation, shipping moved north into the Houston/Texas City river channel and never really came back to pre-1900 levels. It is still an important port servicing the vast number of off-shore oil and gas derricks in the Gulf.

Galveston suffered a huge loss of life and many of those who survived decided not to rebuild and moved elsewhere.  But because of that storm we forever changed the way we predict and report the weather world-wide probably saving thousands.

Added bonus, with your tour ticket, you get a discount at the Pier 21 restaurant, Willie G’s right next to the museum. It was such a nice day, we were able to sit under the canopy at a table on the pier. Lunch was a Salmon salad for me and Dianna had the fish and chips. Vacations for us tend to result in excessive alcohol consumption so we added two Marti Gras special drinks as well. Hey....we had to get the cool collector cups and "free" neck beads....well worth the extra cost.

Back to reality, as with all cruise endeavors, we were once more run through the human grinder that is the check-in and boarding  process.  Serpentine chicanes turning left and right leading inexorably to a bored clerk swiping passports and asking us if we had the flu or didn't feel well. When this medical expert was satisfied we were not contagious, we were allowed to walk the gangway to our floating buffet palace. Next installment....the road to Progresso or how not to row a kayak.