Went for a walk in town yesterday. The wild west showed up. If women had been with us, they would have gathered up their skirts and scurried inside. But it was just us guys.

We made it. Twelve hours on the road. Random stops for gas and goodies. Pulled in behind friends at one stop. Unplanned. The randomness of the universe.

Travel day. The road awaits. Friends are at the end. And music. But if I’m honest. It’s the friends that count. The one with whom I’ll travel, and those we’ll both soon see.

Drove into the sunset last night. It was a drive I made a lot when I still worked. It looked the same. The evening sky was clear and nicely colored. The road was clear, too. The hills were inviting. But where I once drove with anticipation, now I just drove.

My college team won its opening game this year. Beat our cousins from San Antonio. Although most of my actual cousins from San Antonio are Aggies or Red Raiders.

At one point I used to worry that video games might be the death knell of civilization.

I never realized how much I missed it until I had it again. Sharing. The coming home from work and school to tell what you did, to hear what others did.

When you get into a routine, sometimes it feels as though nothing is happening. When in reality everything is happening. And sometimes you feel as though the same thing is happening, when nothing is ever the same and everything that is happening is in reality all new.

I’m moving quietly through the sleeping house this morning. Getting my coffee. Writing. It reminds me of almost all the days of my working career.

Roamed the streets of Pearland yesterday, and Manvel, too. The latter is where we landed after vacating Pasadena in the mid-90s. We rented because we didn’t know how much we’d like country living. Turns out we liked it a lot.

There are books that are fun to read and that’s that. There are books that make you think, and that’s that. But then there are books the make you think and suddenly that’s no longer that, but something entirely different

Went to hear music the other evening, and while we waited recorded music was played. At one point, on came Elvis singing, Can't Help Falling in Love, and before you knew it all the boys there at the club began to sing along. Me included. And it was fun.

In addition, to reading, I like to cook, and this book is my bible and guide and reference point.

Talk about the strange human brain. I start my day with Wordle. The NY Times puzzle that gives you six chances to guess the five letter word the editor chooses every day. I do the puzzle every morning. And lately, I’ve begun to feel that if I fail my day is likely to be a bad one. That seems odd.

What did we ever do before the internet. How did we discover the only way to cook scrambled eggs? Did we even care what four things rich people did? And what’s the criteria for a bad decision in TV, and why 50, why not just ten?

Emotions. I’ve had the devil’s time learning to keep mine in check, particularly on the golf course. Being a middling player at best, frustration has been my constant companion.

I like J.D. Salinger but not for the book that made him famous, Catcher in the Rye. I just didn’t get it. But Franny and Zooey, well, that was a different story.

I’ve loved McPhee’s work ever since I ran across his writing in the New Yorker back in the early 70s. He writes in elegant prose and he’s right up there with E. B. White another New Yorker author I love.