Texas: from Central to East

After a short night of very little sleep, I "woke up" today around 6:30 and prepared to return to the university. Most of my relevant worldly goods were already gathered together for loading into the car. I needed only to dismantle my computer setup and decide how to squeeze all of these belongings into my little automobile. I checked the vehicle for any major maintenance problems, made three or four sweeps of the house to prove to myself that none of my mammon had been forgotten, and borrowed the family's brand new copy of Casablanca (two-disk special edition) for the sake of the SC's cultural enrichment initiatives.

The drive from Bastrop to Longview was pleasant enough. The weather was cool but clear, with mere wisps of white cloud in the sky. I watched the gray, leafless oaks along the highway gradually merge into woods with green, frilly pines. The trip took barely more than five hours. True, I was annoyed by an inordinate number of large, unilateral, hegemonic commercial trucks at various stages in the journey. I also encountered more than my fair share of elderly couples driving boxy maroon sedans in no-passing zones at mere fractions of the posted speed limits. My indefatigably affable spirit, however, put all such irritations aside.

I stopped in Buffalo to eat lunch at a Sonic restaurant. I parked my car in a spot that would be easy to watch from inside the building. I walked in and sat down in a booth. I stared at the menu board for several minutes, trying to figure out why this Sonic had failed to grasp the simple marketing genius of the combo meal. Apparently it would be necessary for me to order my burger, fries, and drink separately; I felt that this was un-American. I picked up the booth's Cold-War-style red telephone, extended my left index finger to depress an equally ominous large black button, and waited for my instructions. A female voice (somehow they're always female at Sonic) crackled loudly through the earpiece. "Shankewforshusiesoni-whanmuhmuhflee." I was not sure whether this staticky sound was supposed to mean "one moment please" or "how may I help thee," so I started to ask for my burger. "Wanmomoplee," the static said again, in a plaintive tone. "Sorry," I replied, cowering. The voice nicely returned within a few seconds, though, to take my order for real.

By two in the afternoon, I was approaching the city of Longview. I began to notice prominent local landmarks. I passed the Gregg County airport in the countryside. Inside the city, I passed Competition: the Pink Palace of Fun. (I do not know whether this establishment involves competition, palaces, or fun, but it certainly is pink on the exterior. Windowless, too.) I passed the giant silvery domes of the Marathon LeTourneau company. Finally, I drove up to the front entrance of the LeTourneau University campus, which is marked conveniently with a large sign that says "LeTourneau University."

After carting most of my belongings up into my dorm room, I walked over to the campus bookstore to make sure that I would have all of my textbooks before classes start next week. Then I returned to my car and drove downtown to the county courthouse (a valiant attempt at Art Deco -- valiant, but somehow not quite successful) to see the county elections administrator. I learned in her office that the state of Texas is (as rumor had already informed me) late in sending out the redesigned voter registration forms; I was assured that the old application cards would still be accepted.

While in the elections office, I got into a short but interesting discussion of church denominations. For the sake of small talk, you see, a lady asked me whether I attend a church in the area. I replied that I have not yet found one into which I am entirely willing to settle. So she asked what church background I have. I explained that I come from an Evangelical Free/Bible church/Baptist upbringing. She explained in turn that she had grown up Southern Baptist, but now attends an independent Baptist church. She said that her mind is made up -- she is a Baptist because that's how she was raised, and because Jesus pretty much said he was a Baptist, and because John the Baptist was called that for a reason.

I chuckled.

She didn't.

I shut up quickly.