The Texas Doldrum

I am 61. Since I was born in January that means I've lived through 62 summers, counting this one, and 60 times I have endured the Texas summer. (The only Texas summers I've missed were in 1968, when I was in flight school in Savannah, and in 1969, when I was in Viet Nam.) Every May, when the last cool front peters out and I first feel the heavy, hot air settle in, I begin my struggle against lethargy and moody listlessness, wondering yet again why I live in this forsaken place.

We don't travel much during the summer: it's called the 'high season' in the Northern Hemisphere because most people have no choice about when they can get away, and why would I want to pay more to wander about amidst sweaty summer crowds of tourists?

So I sit and brood, withdrawn and peevish, dreading any sort of activity and knowing that the first fall cool front is still months away. If it were up to me, I'd never leave our apartment, but fortunately others occasionally force me up and out the door.

Back in May, we drove to Maineville, Ohio (near Cincinnati), to visit Terri's brother Ed, his wife Rhonda, and their boys Alec and Jacob. Our pleasant family outing included a visit to the world's largest basket building.



On the Fourth, we watched the big fireworks show at LaGrave Field from our perch atop a parking garage in downtown Fort Worth. Watch the fireworks!

Then my Aunt Mary invited us to spend a few days with her in Henderson, and while we were there we spent a nice afternoon with my Aunt Esther and Uncle Wiley. We usually just see each other at funerals, but this time, I am relieved to say, no one had died. It was great fun to catch up with relatives, talk about old times, and look through photo albums, but it was in Texas, in July. Here's a snapshot of me and Aunt Mary at the East Texas Oil Museum and one of me and Terri with Esther and Wiley in their backyard in Nacogdoches.

I quite surprised myself by catching World Cup fever and am now a futbol (soccer) fan. The Spanish cable channels carry several games a week, usually from the Mexican premier league, and Terri and I even went to see a game live at the new, ostentatious Dallas Cowboys Stadium. Here's a snapshot of Terri waiting for the game to start and a movie of the excitement in the stands.

So now it's July 26 and I peek through the blinds at the glaring sun, listening to the constant hum of the air conditioning and thinking of escape: in 25 days we go to Buenos Aires, where today's weather forecast is for a high of 61° after a low of 37° last night.