The Alamo

04 August 2014
.I decided to stop by San Antonio on my way to the “Q”(Albuquerque)... to see the Alamo, which, as growing up Nova Scotia, I always imagined this place and Davey Crocket to be a Hollywood fantasy. But, there it is just outside this Starbucks door and across the street. One might call Starbucks... “a home away from home”... it has free internet, for the price of a big cup-a tea and no time limit... just keep refueling my cup with hot water... free!!!... filling it right to the rim..Grandma!!!... and I didn’t even have to ask!!!! ...Brother!!!! And... to my surprise, got public parking... less than a minute walk from the Alamo... $3 for the day... WOW... no pressure!!! But... what fucked up streets... my worst nightmare... lost in a ghost city and cannot find my way back to my vehicle.

I walked slowly... inch by inch... making a map as I moved. A street merchant approached, earphones attached to his little digital device clipped to his T-shirt. He gave me directions to the Alamo... “People are afraid of me” he said. “I am not afraid but, I am hitch-hiking around... about in the same financial situation as you”. He immediately turned away, to another passer-by ... “People are afraid of.....” I heard him say.

Shame on me... you might say but, I was proud of myself to inadvertently come up with an effective deterrent on such short notice. However, I have to confess, I was not so alert two hot nights ago, to be suddenly awaken at 1:30AM at that first Texas Rest Stop by a knock on my van door. I crawled to the door from my sweaty sleeping bag to see a small slight well tanned blond woman, looking about 30 years old. “Can you help me” she asked, “I am about to run out of gas and need to get to Houston. There a gas station not far from here... my man beat me and kicked me out and I have my little brother in the truck... I need about $20 or $40”.

“You want me to follow you to the gas station?” “Yes” she said. “Am sorry to disturb you and I am really embarrassed to do this... I knocked on another car door and the woman told me to ‘go to hell!’... I don’t kno why she was so pissed off”. Smart woman, I thought in retrospect.

“Just a minute”. I crawled back to my sleeping bag, got my glasses, stumbled out the door, still trying to sort this out in my groggy brain.

Now I could see clearly ... maybe a 50 yr old, skinny, skinny woman, burnt by sun and hardly enough wrinkled skin to hang from her bones, with a cigarette clinched between her fingers. Maybe she was younger but life was hard on her.

I followed her to the gas station. Her little brother got out and stood by the door... was about a five foot- eight inch, over weight chubby, shameful looking black man. I wondered if the “little brother” was stuck in the cab.

Instinctively, my inner antennae were up but my brain was still groggy so, it was all to late for me to change the course of the inevitable. “Give the woman $40 in gas” I told the attendant. “No, no” she said. “I ain’t had anything to eat in days... I need some food” she said, with the cigarette hanging from her. I just handed her the $40 and escaped any further entanglement... realizing what just happened. “God bless you...” she called as I pulled out

Well, it took hours along the night road for me to rationalize that scam. In the end, I accepted it as an inadvertent action of good will to a woman, who really did need that money. I still feel bad for the life she must lead... every day.

So, that “Alamo street merchant” got nothing and I feel good. Now, I am off to the Alamo.

Will send photos after the visit, also some photo of Bourbon Street in the land of NO. This is my first time Blogging so need to familiarize to all the digital possibilities. In any case, I am attempting to make this Blog into a book/play so, let me see if I can generate some followers with my writings, photography, art, etc.... ultimately... some personal venue presentations. I will keep my fingers crossed... the competition is fierce but, let's see.