Americana

We're on another coast to coast drive, and it's glorious! I love being on the road again... can't help myself. Every time I look out the car window and see a little road off in the distance, or a river winding its way along, I ask myself "I wonder where that goes? What's at the end of that?" There's no such thing as the middle of nowhere to me - the middle of nowhere is where all the good stuff is!

Once again, we started in South Florida, where our kind and generous friends have been taking care of our car and our mail... and last week they took care of us, with food, drink, shelter, tennis, friendship and laughter.

Traveling up the Florida Turnpike - sunny rest stops where they sell fresh mangoes (I love love love this!), through the Florida Panhandle to surprisingly handsome Mobile, Alabama; then side stepping NOLA, my favorite city, in favor of Biloxi and Gulfport, Mississippi. Breakfast in Gulfport, birthplace of our friend John Fabian, is an all-American treat - cheese omelette, ham, grits and biscuits at the Palace Grill, which I'm sure was there before John and will be there long after. Just a few blocks from the shrimp boats bobbing in the Gulf, Palace Grill boasts one of the best bulletin boards ever, including a sign that reads, "Drink some coffee - then you can do really stupid stuff faster and with more energy!"

While in the bayous and Cajun country along the Gulf, known as the "Redneck Riviera", we enjoy boiled shrimp, gumbo and an oyster PoBoy before we even get over the border into Texas. Driving through Texas is a career in itself... I've spent so much time involved in that activity, I should put it on my resume. We obey the law and stick with the 80 MPH speed limit, but despite the signs reminding us to "Drive Friendly - the Texas Way", people blaze past us as if we're standing still. Kind of like the Autobahn, only with gigantic black pickups and gun racks.

We stop to Remember the Alamo and eat chiles rellenos in San Antonio - a green and shady, charming, historic and friendly city; then continue through the surprisingly beautiful Texas hill country around Kerrville. (Quiz Question: what famous American has a ranch near Kerrville? Hint: His initials are GWB and he looks like Howdy Doody.)

Last night we were in Ozona, Texas, home of the Davy Crockett Memorial and the Hitching Post Steak House, where we were only allowed to have a cocktail if we purchased a membership - which was OK with me. I like the idea that if we're ever back in Ozona, we will feel right at home. We can flash our membership card at the Hitching Post and that nice waitress will smile and say, "Hey, Hon - how y'all doin'?"