I guess I’m in the mood for reminiscence. Again this morning, I slipped into an old blog and started reading about some of the road trips my wife and I used to take. One such trip involved a stop in Bartlett, Texas one afternoon about 2:30. We had driven through Taylor with the objective of trying Louie Mueller’s barbeque restaurant, thinking we’d never eaten there, but when we got to the place, we realized upon looking that we had, indeed, partaken of his food. That realization, coupled withe the fact that a line snaked out the door, persuaded us to keep going. That dismissal of Taylor as a stopping place is what got us to Bartlett and the tiny roadside BBQ stand called Perez’ Barbeque. It was there that we ate part of the little remaining brisket and chatted with J.J., a 72-year-old black man who retired from General Motors in Arlington. He and a young black guy who was there with his very young son welcomed us, even though the little covered area where they were sitting was, quite obviously, intended as a place for the operators and their friends to rest. Perez’ Barbeque was as a place to buy your meal and take it home. J.J. and friends, along with an Hispanic guy were sitting there chatting. They were so hospitable to my wife and me, late lunchers who needed a place to sit and eat. The Hispanic guy was just visiting from Arizona, back home to spend time with his father and brother who operated the little BBQ stand. About the time we were ready to leave, the older Hispanic guy came out and asked J.J. if he had brought the dominoes, as he was ready for a game.
I miss those road trips. It was so nice to just drive and stop whenever and wherever we wanted. We saw people as the people they really are, at least I think we did.