I’m sorry that I haven’t been writing in the last few days. That’s because: 1) touring is exhausting 2) touring doesn’t give as much spare time as you think 3) I’ve been working on this little 4th of July story for a few days.
Hope you enjoy it!
I’m sure that Dallas is as good as anywhere else in the US of A to celebrate the 4th of July. We had the chance to spend ours –the first one for all of us, except for Paul, our tour manager– in the heart of Texas. And for us, being on the road, the simple fact that it was a day off, already made it special. But again, we had the same feeling; Dallas downtown on Independence Day is a ghost town, except for a little fair, just like the last city we had the chance to visit: St. Louis. The afternoon we had planned to visit St. Louis, The Cardinals were playing, and that’s why we found an empty city, well… apparently empty, until we bumped into the stadium.
In Dallas downtown we had a similar feeling. Walking away a few yards from the fair, no one to be found… Except for an ocasional homeless person trying to be nice to get a buck. We thought we deserved a decent meal, and where can you go on a fourth of July in Dallas to have a meal? Well, if you want to see the real thing, the answer is a Steakhouse. We actually chose one that had a bit of a scary name: Butcher’s, but hey… the most amazing angus steak you can imagine. Paul and Niño had great pieces of angus meat and I had a memorable Angus Ribeye Steak. Manso didn’t want to be envolved in the cow masachre and had a vegetarian meal in what we will gently describe as an italian restaurant.
Manso is a wise person and had a bad, but reasonable meal, for the saharian temperature that was waiting for us outside the restaurant. Our thoughts didn’t go that far; we’d blindly followed our stomachs and now we were going to pay for it.
As soon as we got out, we started to sweat cow grease and we barely couldn’t stand up to Manso’s walking rythm. Nontheless, and under the rather hallucinating effect of meat and heat, we made it to the Dallas Plaza. Dave had just told us that touring a few years earlier the motor of his bus had died exactly on the same spot as they had shot JFK. Nothing to add on this matter, except Profesor Manso’s photo.
Obviously we did all that whisteling quietly (we didn’t want to be beaten to death by locals) the Dallas TV series tune. It’s almost as inpropper as to play Stairway to Heaven in a guitar shop. But it’s one of those, you just have to… It was very hot, that is our only excuse. And the haunt of the Ewwings was floating in the air…
Back in the hotel, we had a last swim at the pool, before getting back on the bus. After a swim it felt a bit better, but the heat was still a bit hallucinating. I lay on my back and looked up to the sky, and I saw something I didn’t expect to be there: the hotel projected against the sky and in the precise angle I was looking at it, had he shape of a cow head.
Lazy Bee # 1 aka Mr. Furia