I drove past the lost pines area of central Texas, just east of Austin today, heading to a meeting. They call these the "lost pines" because a stand of pine trees exists here that looks as if it belongs in east Texas, and got "lost" amid the rolling fields of the central part of the state. Trees are always getting cross-ways here; to our northwest up here in north Texas, the "cross-timbers" are a great, loping hardwood forest in a place that otherwise looks as if it should be prairie.
We met in an office in what was once a small farm house. I liked the barn swallows actively nesting in the front porch light fixture, and the red-bellied woodpecker who provided a a colorful diversion. On the airplane I sat next to a nine year old boy, who assured us that because he has family in Dallas, in Los Angeles, and in El Salvador, then everywhere is his home.
We dined tonight at the little place in nearby McKinney to which we go for a simple casual meal. They always feature an acoustic guitarist playing covers. The guitarist varies, but the idea remains the same. Tonight the fellow who played the role did an amazing "All Along the Watch Tower", a sublime "Needle and the Damage Done", and a sing-along-worthy version of another Neil Young song, "Out of the Blue". Then he went astray on "Folsom Prison Blues", which has slain many a cover artist dragon. When he went shrill on "On the Boardwalk", I was ready for our check. I felt mildly offended that he would finish another song with "that one was by Buffalo Springfield", but then I realized in this day and age it's possible that only he, my wife, and I knew that.
I am trying to remember why (a) I ever elect to play the black side of a Queen's Gambit Declined, exchange variation; (b) I've waited so long, and still have not switched my car stereo to one with an mp3 jack; and (c) I can still remember most of the words to Eno's "Miss Shapiro" and "Third Uncle", but cannot remember
my US Airways dividend miles number.