Texas Gatorfest

Thanks to my Aggie friend, Ashley, I decided to drive out to Anahuac today to partake in the festivities of Gatorfest. Ashley said she thought I should venture out to hell's half acre to see what all the hype was about. Never listen to a pregnant woman. I'm convinced that the fetus just sucks the ability to think rationally out of the mother's brain. I'm lucky to be alive.
It was about 150 degrees, with little shade in sight, when I arrived at the Texas Gatorfest. I was dying of thirst, and felling dizzy, so I decided that an airboat ride would cure me. What a blast! That's the only way to travel on water. On to find a cool drink. I decided to try some alligator nachos with a gallon of water. Now that's the rub. Feeling refreshed, I was drawn to a tent with lots of knives and a couple of sparsely-toothed men. Mike was from Brenham,  and Dan was from Bell County. Mike makes knives out of stone and deer antlers. They were very knowledgeable about primitive weaponry, so I asked Mike if I could put him on my blog. He said he didn't know what that was, but he was certain he didn't have one. After much explanation, and help from semi-computer literate Dan, Mike said, sure, put him on this blog thing. Wait a minute, Obama's not on my blog, is he? I assured Mike that the federales really weren't interested in my blog, yet, so he was safe. On to the Gulf Coast NRA tent. They were selling $5 raffle tickets to win one of three exciting gun packages. The one I bought a ticket for was the home invasion package. My eye was drawn to this bad-ass shotgun that looked like a machine gun. I can't even remember what other firearm was included in this package because I was so enamored with the assault shotgun. Hope I win!
Time for the Great Texas Gator Roundup. I couldn't decide if the old fossil doing the announcing was cajun, or if I was just losing my hearing, but I could barely understand a word he said. But who needs commentary for this stuff. There was a parade of trucks that would drive up to the scales, stop, then the gator killers would jump out and heave their bounty onto the ground from the truck beds. The announcer kept incoherently yapping as the swamp people would show off their kills. What family fun for a Sunday! These people rocked. I want to go on a gator murderfest soon. I think I'll be an Ice Road Trucker during the winter, and a Gator Cowgirl during the summer. Note to self: lose some teeth soon.

Everyone loves a dead gator

The Texas sun was taking a toll on me, so it was time to head back to H-town. I'm looking forward to my first gator hunt.  Still awaiting word of my home invasion package delivery. A big thumbs up the Anahuac, the Gator Capitol of Texas!

Beer, Quail and Chapstick

The hardest labor I wanted to do this Labor Day weekend, was hoisting that full glass of beer to my mouth, and clicking the up/down channel button on my tv remote. All the right college football teams won Saturday, so what to do the rest of the holiday? Duh, drink more beer. What better place to do that than at the Galveston Brewfest at Moody Gardens. Since I am a patriotic American, I felt it was my duty to give back to my community by volunteering to be a pourer at Brewfest.

Galveston was beautiful and packed. Got to Brewfest, and was assigned to work the New Belgium table. I've never been a fan of their beer, but I am now! The Houston rep for New Belgium, Andy, was there explaining to the drunks all about the beer. He moved to Houston two weeks ago from Fort Collins, CO, which is the home of New Belgium Beer. Andy was a cool, laid-back guy. I liked him because he made frequent trips around Brewfest to drink from the other breweries that were represented. I poured; Andy drank. Everyone wanted to ride the cool Fat Tire bicycle. Sorry, it's for looks only. By the end of the evening, Andy told anyone that stumbled by to take a ride around Brewfest on it, and they did. I was surprised, and a little dismayed , that no one was taken out by the Fat Tire Gone Wild trips. Andy was handing out New Belgium chapstick as a promotional item, and I was fascinated that drunk people got super excited over that shit. Hotel Galvez was set up next to New Belgium. They were serving the most heavenly quail I've ever had. Mothership Wit beer, quail and chapstick were the belles of the Brewfest ball. By the time Brewfest ended, the volunteers were as inebriated as the paying customers. Jennifer, the sales and catering executive of The Tremont House and Harbor House, was kind enough to hook me up with a room at The Tremont. The po-po was out in full force, so I thought it was best to stay on the island and continue my partying.

It took forever to get from Moody Gardens to The Tremont, but it was well worth the hassle. The Strand was rockin', and so was harborside. Shouldn't these people be at Sunday night church services? Every place was packed, so I strolled back to The Tremont to enjoy the rest of my island vacation at their bar. The bartender looked to be about 16 years of age, and acted it, also. She had the bar tv on Extreme Home Makeovers, and seemed really into it. I was about to tell this idiot that this was a bar, not a sorority house, when she became a genius, and switched stations to Nancy Grace. Never judge a book by it's blondness.

The Tremont House was a fabulous place to stay, but it was time to head back to reality Monday morning. The valet guys at The Tremont were friendly. Jay told me he had turned 21 this summer, and partied down in the Bahamas at Atlantis. To be 21 one again...what am I thinking? At 21, I probably couldn't have fully appreciated the tasty pairing of New Belgium Beer, Hotel Galvez quail and a hearty smear of chapstick.

                                                 

                                                                                                    Andy the New Belgium Dude

 

Leah the Fat Tire Race Winner

Jay the Valet

Senseless in Seattle

It was sad to see Oregon Brewfest end, but my heart was joyous knowing it will be back again next year. With that in mind, I loaded up the rent-a-Volvo and headed to Washington. I felt like I was back in elementary school since George Washington's silhouette is on all the road signs. At first, I panicked thinking I should be writing my A,B,Cs or something, then I realized it was just post-traumatic stress syndrome and calmed down. The drive to Mount Saint Helens set me on edge again. Memories of it blowing it's lid in May, 1980, came rushing back. The drive to the volcano was scary good, but I believe finding a good therapist back in Houston is in order. I certainly see why Seattle has one of the highest suicide rates in the U.S.A. Where's my xanax?
On to Tacoma, land of the beautiful lattes. One thing I noticed about the Northwest is that every latte I got had the most lovely artistic designs on the top of the foam/milk. With an aestetically pleasing latte in hand, I toured Stadium High School, which is where 10 Things I Hate About You was filmed. I raised my cup to toast Heath and Julia, then broke out singing Can't Take Me Eyes Off Of You. That didn't last long. Security had no appreciation of my public singing skills.
Off to Seattle to look for the crew of Grey's Anatomy. No luck spotting them, but great luck finding cold beer. I was blessed with the company of an old friend, Gale Hermandorfer, that I had not seen in 34 years. Good beer and good conversation; what could be better? We were tossing them back at Pike Brewing Company, which had marvelous food and beer. The original Starbucks is only a couple of blocks north of here, so you can get every kind of buzz on in downtown Seattle.

Goodbye Heath

The next day, Gale and I met for round 2 at Harmon Brewery in Tacoma. More fun and laughs ensued. It must have been the elevation because I can't remember the last time I had this much fun, and fun is what my life is all about. It was sad to leave Washington in my rent-a-Volvo but therapy was calling my name. I will be back for round 3 as soon as I get my xanax refilled.

Dead man in Seattle

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Creepy St. Helens

Keep Portland Weird

Finally, it's time for my summer vacation. I love Portland, Oregon, so I decided to plan my Portland visit around the annual Oregon Brewfest. It's always the last full weekend in July, and this year 78,000 rowdy drunks were in attendance during the four day swigfest. What happens in Oregon, stays in Oregon (and goes on my blog).
I took Metro's Airport Express to IAH and loved it. My bus driver was Joseph, and he's been driving for Metro for over 25 years. He was great. I encourage Houston to hop the bus to the airport next time you leave Space City because Metro is the only way to travel, especially if you have been drinking...
Portland was cool and sunny. I got on the #15 bus to ride to drinks, I mean dinner, and was acosted by The Busdriver from HELL. He screamed at me for not filling my bus- pass out correctly. I was so amazed that anyone screams in Portland, which seems to be Let's Get High City U.S.A., that I rode for 2 blocks then got off. I thanked The Busdriver from HELL for his helpfullness as he continued to yell at me, so I then called him a rude-ass motherfucker and told him he should thank his lucky stars I didn't shank him.

Next morning was the beer brunch and parade where I only talked to shiny, happy people. I loved that the mayor of Portland, Sam What's His Name led the parade of drunks to the waterfront for Brewfest. What a trip! Who doesn't love a parade? Houston needs a brewfest. Everyone was thrilled to be strolling the streets of Portland with beer mugs in hand. Once we got to Brewfest, I was like a kid in a candy store. So many beers, so little time. People came from all over the globe for this experience and it was well worth it. I met many interesting characters, and partook of tons of great brews. I attended Brewfest three days, so I do believe I'm a beer expert now. After Portland, it was time to hit the brewpubs in Tacoma and Seattle. More on that after I've convalesced a couple of days. Remember, when it's time for a beer, like for breakfast or something, think Oregon then drink Oregon!

Thou Shalt Not Covet Beads

What better way to start off the morning of Pride than with a trip to the Kemah farmers market. I road tripped over to Laporte to catch a ride with my friend Charlotte down to Kemah. Hotter than a mofo, but we managed to have more than a few laughs while on this shopping extravaganza. The Ghost of Bob Marley sold us some hippy hats which Charlotte got us the teacher discount for.  My hat and bracelet came to a grand total of $17. I handed the Pride of Jamaica $20, then I had to tell him how much change to give me. Please, kids, stay awake in Math class or this will be you one day. Or... just don't smoke your breakfast before going to work.  We finished the morning with a detailed tour of Laporte. I had no idea there was so much to do there(yawn). Main street was a buzz with Pride fever(not). Still I enjoyed my outing(?) with Charlotte and look forward to our next excursion.
Later I stopped by W2W to be the bead fairy, then off to Empire for an afternoon ,then night, of debauchery. They started my day off with a 2010 Empire Cafe Pride t-shirt and some sort of alcohol filled coffee drink. Wow! 4pm and it's time for a Pride stroll down Westheimer. After my stroll I was back on my Empire bar stool. What to drink now? Tony suggested a dirty martini and I agreed since I like anything with the word dirty in it. Double WOW! I was privileged enough to warrant a seat outside with the Empire Pride crew and their swinging families. Mary, Shannon and Cory all had the coolest moms EVER. Families that Pride together stay together is my motto. Mary's mom, Mary V., told me stories about the Sting concert the night before (thanks a lot Mary). Hopefully I can attend a concert with Mary V. and her friends in the future. Conversing with the Slokars and the Pipers was a great kick-off to Pride.

At 7pm we all had our own Pride parade down Westheimer to Mary's brother Cedomil's place. Croatians certainly know how to have a good time, so after another martini and a shot of tequila it was parade time. My mistake was standing at the street barricade. Stupid Drunken Bead Whore and her boyfriend spent the first 30 minutes of the parade hitting me in the back and head while grabbing at flying beads. At one point I looked at her and said "stupid bitch" and her slurred reply was " what bitch?". I contemplated beating the shit out of this skank but decided that jail was not an option, and Pride promotes peace and understanding, so I backed away from the street and showed my Pride in Cedomil's front yard.
I decided to make my way back to Empire for more martinis. Along the route I stopped to talk to friends, students and parents. Nothing like having a PTA meeting during the Gay Pride Parade. Safely back at Empire with my martinis, Jeff entertained me by reading the Houston Press personals aloud. What's a regular Chinese girl? Is there an irregular one? The martinis were clouding my thinking and the parade was over, so I headed home looking forward to another successful Pride celebration in 2011. See y'all next year!

Willie Green, Discovery Green, We're All Green!

Time to redeem my St. Arnold's carriers for precious points. Thursday at Discovery Green , St. Arnold's will give you double points for the carriers you turn in to be recycled, so now my beer account has 50 points in it. I can't wait to go shopping! Since I was wearing my Keep Portland Beered shirt, a lovely, beer drinking couple, Richard and Susan Nelson, stopped to share with me some places to swig beer in Portland and Seattle. Although Richard is an Aggie, and Susan is from Mizzou, they had lived for several years in the Northwest. I'm looking forward to next month when I am in Portland and Seattle, lifting a cup of brew in honor of the Nelsons.

The sky looked ominous, but that didn't deter the drunken crowd from dancing and having a good time as Joe King Carrasco played tunes that took us all down Houston memory lane. All ages were cuttin' a rug under tornadic conditions. It takes more than a little turbulent weather to make Houstonians stop partying and go home. On my way to my bus stop, I stopped to read the sign donated by BP about what a green, wonderful company they are. Ha! That's the funniest thing I've read this summer. Onward to catch the #82 where I met a great downtowner, Willie Green. He has lived downtown for 14 years and is a native Houstonian. He was well versed in the law and spent quite awhile explaining to me the difference between a class c misdemeanor and a felony. In fact Willie told me he had just gotten out of the city jail for a class c misdemeanor which was for enjoying a few beers on the streets of Houston. Po po don't like that shit! Hide your beer unless you are stumbling out of a swanky Main St. club then the po po looks the other way. Average citizens like me and Willie will be sent to the big house for having a little public fun. He shared with me the pros and cons of city, county and state lock-ups. What an eye opening education I received from Mr. Green. I think I'll do my darndest to be a law abiding citizen because no incarceration sounds like a picnic to me. I liked Willie and will have to talk to him in the future. His parting pearls of wisdom were to stay away from those Pierce Elevated folks because they is crazy! Amen Brother Green.

Will Road Trip for Peaches...and Beer

Nothing says summer like a road trip to Fredericksburg,TX. My friends On Golden Pond were dying for some fresh peaches, so that gave me a good reason to make a run for the Hill Country. With orders in hand, I loaded up the Jeep and hit the road. I was helping Blur sing Girls & Boys when I realized I had taken the wrong exit off of I-10. Oh well, surely this road will hit Highway 71 somewhere up ahead, and, besides my favorite song Drunk Girls by LCD Soundsystem was on and needed my full attention. It's so hard to clap and steer at the same time. I'm pretty secure in being lost, since I've spent a good portion of my life in this state and have lived to tell about it. Sure enough, I found the road to Austin after a few(dozen)miles.
Had to stop At Ruta Maya in Austin for a latte. I talked to the coolest barista named Nathan. He lamented about the fact that Austin had gotten a little too commercialized over the past 10 years. He also talked about why we call it an "alarm" clock instead of something a little more soothing. The world has gotten faster, which Nathan and I think is sad, so I grabbed my latte and ran to my Jeep! I am 100% American and proud of it.
Got to Fredericksburg and stopped at Silver Creek for lunch. There was a local songstress serenading the customers. All of a sudden, she quits playing her guitar, stands up and yells "OMG! I'm in pain! It's my period!" Don't hold back sister. Gloraline then grabbed her tip jar and went inside for a beer. Who could blame her? Later I headed out to Chisholm Trail Winery where I imparted the story of Gloraline to the Wine Mistress. I thought she was going to pee her britches and I got a nice laugh retelling the tale myself. Everyone is happy in the Hill Country. Wine Mistress recommended the Crossroads Saloon for a drink. You don't have to tell me twice, so I headed back in town to check this place out. I had a great bartender named Jon who could pour a mean Pinot Noir. I struck up a conversation at the bar with John and Susan Hever from Johnson City. They told me the best place to buy peaches, and also told me stories about drinking wine with Lyndon and Lady Bird Johnson's youngest daughter, Lucy. The Hevers brought a tear to my eye when they said that the highway from Johnson City to LBJ's ranch in Stonewall was lined with people on both sides to pay respect to Lady Bird when she was taken home to be buried. We then toasted the Best First Lady Ever! John raises longhorns and asked me if I knew anyone that wanted to buy one. I said my friend Ashley wanted one. I forgot to mention that she was a crazy Aggie and would use that poor steer for target practice. The Hevers rolled out to a party, and I rolled out to another bar. I then drank wine at Lincoln St. with the manager, Danny, and some unnamed strange guy that appeared out of nowhere and talked about Idaho for 2 hours. Maybe I was slightly inebriated...maybe not.

After peach shopping the next afternoon, I decided to make a detour home and tour the Real Ale Brewery in Blanco, TX. What a treat. It was nice to see the place full of drunks at 2pm on a work day. Gabrielle, the Mistress of Brew, was serving up wonderful samples of Real Ale as fast as she could. I always support Texas and Arkansas breweries. OK, I support any brewery but Real Ale is definitely in my top 5 .This road trip was a success, and I'm hoping The Ponders will ask me to go back this summer for more peaches...and beer..