Fort Worth
This is how my life goes: I ended up in Fort Worth on a complete misunderstanding.
I love Shinyribs. I just love them. They are one of the greatest live music experiences I've ever seen. Right up there with Fishbone. I do love a band with a horn section and a front man with a big personality.
I think I first saw Shinyribs live at Old Settler's Music Festival in 2016. "Baby What's Wrong With You" was one of my many divorce songs at the time. "Baby, what's wrong with you, even while the sky is blue?" I saw them 2 more times, the last with the lovely Flora. So when she texted me to see if I wanted to see them on February 3, I thought she was proposing our next road trip! Turns out she just didn't realize the show was out of town. But we said "screw it" and made it our next road trip anyway.
It was at Billy Bob's, which I somehow mixed up in my mind with Gilley's. I don't know. That place burned down in 1990? Oh. Well, whatever. Shows how closely tied to the North Texas Honkytonkin' community I am. Anyway. I thought, "I've never been honkytonkin'! We'll boot scoot, or two step, or something! We'll dance the night away!"
It didn't quite work out that way. Seating was closely packed tables with rows of chairs on each side, like family dining style without the family dining. There was no room for standing or booty shaking, let alone scooting our boots. But we did get to shoot pool before the show! They were the good ol' coin-op tables, too, where not every table has an actual rack, or even a cue ball and you're always ass to ass with the guy at the next table trying to shoot, but somehow you still make it work. I don't think I saw a single piece of chalk, either. That's OK. I'm not entirely clear on what the chalk is for anyway, except looking like you know what you're doing by chalking your stick between shots. I'm terrible at pool, but I'm better than she is, so now she thinks I'm a hustler. I'll let her hold on to the misconception.
So we didn't really honky tonk it up after all. We ate mediocre barbecue across the street before the show. The pitmaster called us family, but the brisket was pretty dry. Billy Bob's wasn't what I imagined it to be. And there was no dancing to be had. But! Shinyribs delivered what Shinyribs always delivers. Our AirBnB was adorably decorated and everything we wanted it to be. And at least one of our Lyft drivers was friendly and chatty.
To me, the experience isn't really about the experience, though it's usually a great accompaniment to the main attraction, which is time spent with lovely company. We talked a lot, held hands, looked and smiled at each other, and used the time to really reconnect after a period apart that left us feeling more than a little disconnected. And this is what's special about this relationship: we both consistently make the time and the effort to renew and refresh our connection. And it doesn't really matter where we do that, but it does help to step out of our lives and really focus on each other.
The next day, we went to the Fort Worth Botanic Garden. The budget for this trip wasn't extensive, and free was very appealing. Early February is not the most colorful time of the year for the garden, but its size and scope is humbling nonetheless. On the way there, we drove past a handful of people sitting on the side of the road in lawn chairs waving a collection of Confederate flags. I don't know what their purpose there was. I don't really care. It was disheartening to remember that our little enclave of Austin is a weird, progressive anomaly in this conservative state. And it was comforting to leave them in our rearview mirror on our way to visit a place that is made and managed by people who value beauty and diversity. At least, that's what I told myself.
Historical Marker #17028: You know, I'm beginning to lose heart on this whole historical marker project. I don't know if you've noticed, but most of them are boring as hell. Few and far between are the stories of red-bearded Indian hunters face-scalped with no apparent sense of irony at their predicament. Most of them are stories of rich white people getting richer then donating their money or land for public projects. Not to demean Mr. Morrison in particular, but it's really not a ripping yarn, when you come right down to it. But again, the company was everything. We strolled, holding hands. We raced up the steps. We whispered dirty suggestions to each other through the Whisper Tubes, one of the benefits of visiting when almost no one else was there. And then we went to lunch at the nearby Jazz Cafe.
This place was odd. We weren't sure if it was open, and we had a hard time finding the front door due to what the Fort Worth Convention and Visitors Bureau calls a "post-apocalyptic patio." That's a great line, and also completely true. We got the feeling the customers were mostly loyal regulars. It was disheartening again to see shockingly racist decor openly displayed in what one presumes is an emphasis on historical value, or culture, or heritage, or whatever, and a de-emphasis on what that heritage actually meant and how it impacts real-life conditions for people today. But, whatever. The food was good, and it had a distinctly Austin hippie vegan/vegetarian health food feel to it that made us feel at home. But still, Texas, it's embarrassing to show you off sometimes. Oh, and it was cash or check only, so I'm grateful I travel with a woman who still believes in the wisdom of carrying cash.
And last, since we weren't so very far from my hometown, I drove my lovely love to see the places where I grew up and began developing into the person I was, the person I am, and the infinite number of people that I will be in the infinite number of moments in my future. In the, to me, typical suburban neighborhood of my childhood, she exclaimed that it was just like you see on TV, which is funny, because in her, to her, typical Queens neighborhood of her childhood, I exclaimed that it was just like you see on TV. We were watching different shows, I suppose.
Really, looking back on this weekend, this interlude from our lives, and contemplating how I feel about it, it's a well-worn idea that comes to mind: it is not the destination, it's the journey. And more than that, it's not the journey, it's the people with whom you journey, and the little ways you connect, and communicate, and show how much you value each other. It's not the fountain you're swimming past, it's the fish that's swimming beside you.
