As many know, I live like a reclusive hermit and rarely go to the mainland unless under marching orders, a truly unusual thing. But today I did and coming back to the island, it was that same thrill that grips you by the back of the throat and the seat of the pants: South Padre! Gosh I love this place. I tooled along in my 10 year old (now very rusty) truck and gave the Main Drag the once-over.
Everywhere was sign of Dolly destruction but it didn't bother me in the least. Some locals took great offense to some wayward signs on T-shirt shops and my heart warmed as I spotted that even the bank - some goofy towers on the First National - got the snot whacked out of it. Yep, I went to the bank, too. It made me smile when I saw those disheveled towers.
The island looks fine to me, a little scruffy especially in the rain but I know things will get better. Perhaps if you were expecting something more you don't belong here. And I suspect the typical tourist, visitor, or second homeowner really doesn't care as long as they have the beach and the bay. That's what it's all about.
In a way it's a shame because it really is the best time of year, aside from all these storms. It is so quiet, and you can do a U-turn in the middle of the road without hardly looking. As I did by Ben's Liquors because mama wanted some hooch for when she got back from late PHD classes. Hey I was on a roll today, wasn't I?
Arriving home, I noticed that the wild field grass invading my lawn had grown two inches since I left, and wondered how that could possibly be. Dang that stuff. It's not Johnson grass and I've heard it called "Guinea grass" but most of us use unprintable cuss words. There is always manana, another wonderful day on the island, and plenty for me to do.