mrtl

The Racket of San Angelo: Concluded

[Catch up here]

Today I took the Defensive Driving Course (DDC). I'm not going to include everything I have to say about it; I don't want to get all pissed off and then try to go to bed. I wrote a lot about it during class, and I'm surprised that my frenzied and furious scribbling didn't alert the teacher. Then again, no, it doesn't.

My complaints about this class boil down to two: 1) the teacher and 2) the "requirement" that the course has to be six hours long. It has to be. That's the rule, and maybe even the law. I can't remember.

The contents of this class could have easily been executed in two hours. But we had to be there for six. Six! The state of Texas not only extorts money from its unruly drivers but tortures them as well!

My class notes list the teacher under several sobriquets: drill sergeant (initial instructions), flight attendant (floor plan), preacher evangelist, barker, Mr. Brady and Don Vito (these last four for the duration of the class).

First off, let me educate those of you who don't watch MTV and wondering who the hell Don Vito is. He's the fella over there on the right. On the show "Viva la Bam" Bam Margera and friends harrass his parents and his uncle, Don Vito. When Don Vito gets all worked up, his speech turns into an unintelligible garble. The producers have kindly included a translation on the screen for Don Vito's rants, but they're not always helpful. When they can't figure out what he's saying, they'll wing it or just put "engu dorfin alit" or whatever for the parts they couldn't make out.

The two hours of "useful" information covered in this course came from videos and our handy dandy DDC Guide. We didn't go through every page, but our teacher read to us what we did. He talked so fast that his speech turned into a low, annoying hum, and my eyes couldn't keep up, not even scanning, and since I couldn't understand any of his garbling, I had to read it.

For the four hours of the class not consumed by videos and the DDC Guide, our teacher had a captive audience. Remember, we had to be there for six hours. We heard story after story of his driving this car between this place and that place, or driving this other car -- with this history and aren't we impressed that his tars cost that much? -- on this road to visit this person -- who is related to him in this way -- to do this activity. He looked at his watch a lot, too, and seemed to talk faster after doing so, as if he needed to make up more time to fit in more stories.

Each of his stories were relevant, and he made sure we knew this by putting on a Mr. Brady act at the end of each one. I'll share one, transcribed early in class when he was still somewhat intelligible (and I listening and not writing things in my guide like "Oh my God, please make this stop.").

"You know folks, it doesn't matter how pretty you are, or how much money you have, or how much land you own, or how big your house is. When you are the victim in a fatal accident, you are just as dead as the next one."

Poignant, too, no?

Fine paid to San Angelo Municipal Court: $95.00
Fee for Defensive Driving Course: $25.00
Hours from my life lost that I will never get back and may give me nightmares: 6

The Racket of San Angelo

Today I went to the San Angelo Municipal Court to deal with the speeding ticket I got last week. Woo hoo! So tell me, does your town's municipal court have a drive-thru window for paying traffic fines?

No, I didn't take advantage of the drive-thru window. I went inside because it's always so much fun to see the microcosm of the city that would gather in such a place. I wasn't disappointed. Included in the mix were:

1. The woman who had obviously taken great care to dress professionally for her appearance in the court. She was fully coifed and wearing a wonderful pant suit with matching pumps. It's too bad I could see her flowery gramma panties, and the teenager with oversized shirt and jeans wasn't the smartest accessory to complete the look.
2. The "I'm just here to visit" man who emptied so much out of his various pockets to go through security that I swear he needed a murse.
3. The college student... Now college students always have amazed me with their fashions, and I certainly took advantage of the opportunity to roll out of bed with my pajama bottoms and go to class in all my knotted up bedhead glory when I was a student. This guy, though, he had on a normal enough outfit, but his hat... The part in the back where you can adjust the hat's size? Whatever it's called, his was a thick knob of duct tape. I wanted to pack this one up with his little goatee, take him to the nearest store to buy him a new hat and a crate of Ramen noodles and send him on his way.

As for the ticket, I paid $95 (do the math; it's over $10 for each mile over the speed limit) and agreed to take a defensive driving course. It's a 6-hour course, and supposedly it's offered online. I don't think I want to pass up the opportunity to get out, though. Yes, I shall go to the defensive driving course.

Tentacles, Locals and Invaders, OH MY

My parents safely returned Bug to us not long after I posted earlier. She was overdue for her nap, but ended up not taking one at all. This concerned me, but not too much, considering it would be my parents putting her to bed tonight.

Mister mrtl and I went out to dinner tonight at Johnny Carino's. I ordered a seafood pasta dish that had calamari, shrimp and clams. I know shrimp and clams, but this calamari stuff I'm not so sure about. I've had it before and remembered it was fairly tasteless and was a circular thing. There were circles of tasteless stuff in my pasta, but there were also TENTACLES. These were tentacles with the little sucky suckers on them. I didn't eat the tentacles, although I did test one suckerless end with my teeth and thought it too chewy to go any further. Their presence on my plate reminded me of an episode of some cartoon -- The Simpsons or Futurama, I can't remember -- where there were alien tentacles sticking out of a cooking pot. Good thing I had some wine or I wouldn't have eaten at all; as it was, in my own little way, I felt very Fear Factor eating off the plate with the tentacles.

After dinner we hit South Park, a little bar owned by the same guy that owns Peasant Village, for dessert and a drink. (They only had strawberry Bavarian cream cake, but I ate it anyway and it was nowhere as good as the pineapple.) There were ADULTS there, and we talked to the other ADULTS. This is a big deal for me; I spend my days with a 16-month-old watching things like Maisy's friend Cyril the squirrel wet himself in the sandbox and then throw his soiled pants on the rug and not clean himself up before putting on another pair (what the hell lesson are they trying to teach with that??). I am too far invested in this shit. But I digress.

We learned fairly quickly that certain topics were better left not discussed. While talking about the "locals" -- mind you these ADULTS were locals -- Bush came up. The woman said that she liked him. Change subject... Later we were talking about Austin, where they lived for a while. "Isn't Austin considered the San Francisco of the South?" "There were a lot of gays there, but it's still nice." Change subject... We then stuck to fairly safe topics. She is a teacher. I used to teach. He likes beer. Mister mrtl likes beer. San Angelo has weather. Other places we've lived have weather. We all were there having escaped from our little ones, so of course that came up as well.

The regular bartender wasn't there tonight, the one whom I called "Male Slut" (from his t-shirt) for months before I found out that Ashley is his real name. The stand in, Brian, wasn't so bad, though. We had a nice little side conversation about a mutual fantasy we had as kids, what would today be called a panic room. I wanted a secret panel a la Scoobie Doo in my room that had a slide that would take me into a secret compartment with toys and other cool stuff. That way if a bad man came into my room, I could escape undetected. (I'm realizing now that this strange fascination with home invasion has followed me into adulthood, and I have no clue where it came from.) Stand in bartender guy was totally with me on that.

Best of all, we came home to no drama. Bug was asleep, finally. As it would turn out, she never took a nap today, but when she did go down, she went down hard, passing out coma-like on my mother. And they didn't even try to abduct her.

"Judges for the auditions will come from as far away as Pennsylvania"

The San Angelo Stampede (arena football) Bullettes (cheer/dance squad) are holding tryouts this Saturday at the Fort Concho Commissary. Pick up an application at Bug Express or the Encino Park Apartments.

They paid to advertise this on local tv.

Beginner's Guide to San Angelo Livin'

This guide will be updated as necessary.

General:

• The water here ("Concho Water") sucks. Supposedly it's potable, but it tastes nasty, is hard, and destroys glass dishware (Electrosol with Jet Dry has combatted this fairly well for me). Be prepared to buy drinking water -- there are water vending machines all over town -- or install a water filtration system. Your Britta will not cut it. Prepare for dry hair.

The Locals:

• They don't call it "San Angelo." It's "SaNangelo."
• People are extremely friendly, and there's a small-town atmosphere from the days of yore (at least coming here from the metro DC area, where you would not advertise your kids' names and involvement in school activities in your front yard). For instance, you don't have to buy a gas can when you run out of gas; the station will loan you one. Strangers will not hesitate to start up a conversation, so don't be shy about asking questions.
• To prepare for the local dialect, watch "King of the Hill," and pay very close attention to Boomhauer. (Case in point was the roofer who I made repeat three times that he thought we might have a kee-oooo-in problem before I figured out he was saying "coon"). Not everyone speaks like that, but it'll completely throw you if you encounter it unprepared.
• Everyone is either related or knows each other, so careful what you say.
• See You Know You're from San Angelo When....

Housing:

• The rental market is pretty tight, and few rentals come with a fridge or washer/dryer.
• If you're looking for an apartment, check out Encino Park.

Eating:

Have you ever heard of Frito Pie? It's so popular around here that it's a regular on the school lunch menus, and a lady in line at the local Albertson's told me all about it (after mistaking my purchases for the ingredients for it). She was appalled that I didn't know what she was talking about. (And I was totally appalled about the thought of Frito Pie because to this day, Fritos remind me of the smell of my brother's shoes when we were kids. EW!!!) But I digress. Some restaurant recommendations follow.

• Mexican - Little Mexico, although Mejor Que Nada has an incredible Amaretto marguarita (This was recently renamed "Mejor," which means "Better" and makes no sense to me, so I'll always refer to it by its old name, which means "Better Than Nothing.")
• Steak - Twin Mountain Steak House (so I'm told)
• Italian - Johnny Carino's (a chain - trust me on this)
• Chinese - Bamboo Garden (across from Sunset Mall)
• Fancier - Peasant Village (Make sure to meet Chef Jason - a great guy - and ask him when he's going to give cooking lessons. Also, I highly recommend the pineapple Bavarian cream cake, but they don't make it regularly.)
• Pizza - Joe's is pretty good, but inconsistent. We usually just go with Papa John's.
• Coffee - Baker Street (The one on Knickerbocker has couches to hang out on; they sell pies and cake, too. I highly recommend The Nutty Irishman.)
• Frito Pie - I don't know of any restaurants that have Frito Pie on the menu, nor do I want to know.

Shopping:

• The greatest gift shop in town is Eggemeyers on N. Concho.
• San Angelo is not the best place to find stuff to buy for a baby. Maternity stores are non-existent (closest Motherhood store is in Abiline, 90 miles north), although Target and Old Navy have stuff. We ordered a lot of stuff online, and headed to Abilene or San Antonio for the rest.
• The best shopping (for anything) out of town is in San Marcos, about 35 miles north of San Antonio. There are two -- TWO! -- outlet malls right next to each other.

Entertainment:

• There are ice hockey, arena football and baseball teams in town, although high school sports are huge here, and Angelo State University has many teams as well.
• There is a local ballet, theater company, and art museum in town.
• See the calendar under Tourism at the San Angelo Chamber of Commerce website.
• On Sunday nights during deer hunting season, make sure to check out KSAN's "Deer of the Week" segment.
• To schedule a "Tool Instruction and Empowerment Workshop," contact Dar at The Love Shack.

For Kids:

• Kids' Kingdom is off Koenigham (aka 87N) down by the river is a great playground, and there are ducks to feed.
• Unidad Park is located on College Hills west of the loop. It's not fenced in, but has some fun climbing equipment and a nice covered eating area.

Health:

• San Angelo is a great place to have a baby. There are two hospitals in town competing for your business, so there are a lot of freebies and great new parent classes. The doctors at Community Hospital are wonderful; I haven't dealt with Shannon. Community runs its own gym (with a free nursery), and gives a free year's membership to expectant moms. I've been told that my birthing experience at Community sounded like I went to a birthing center (this from a friend in the metro DC area).
• The Air Force takes care of its peeps. The gym on base is great, and offers some classes.
• If you're looking to lose weight, check out the San Angelo Get Healthy Challenge.

Pampering:

• Nail Time on Sherwood (behind the Blockbuster) gives the best pedicures.
• Contact the Austin School of Massage to ask about free massages.

Miscellaneous:

• When someone wants to pass you when driving, pull to the right if possible. They'll do it for you, too.

Warnings:

• There's a little war raging right now between Cox Cable and the owner of the local CBS affiliate. If getting CBS is important to you, get rabbit ears. If not, the Buffalo Wings joint on Sherwood gets it.

You Know You're from San Angelo When...

I got this in an e-mail. I don't understand most of it, and some downright scares me.

1. Meeting a celebrity means standing in line at Fuentes next to the local weatherman.
2. Your idea of a traffic jam is ten cars waiting to pass a camper on the Mertzon Highway.
3. "Vacation" means driving to Dallas.
4. You see all the biggest clothing trends ten years after they were popular.
5. Your work or classes are cancelled because of a half inch of snow.
6. You hear Achy Breaky Heart at a funeral.
7. You realize your only choices for eating out are Mexican and steak.
8. When it rains, it's the talk of the town for days.
9. When it snows, it's the talk of the area for weeks.
10. During the summer, the car trunk doubles as an oven for your groceries.
11. You measure distance in hours.
12. The local paper covers national and international headlines on one page, but requires 6 pages for high school football.
13. You've had to switch from Heat to A/C in the same day.
14. Driving to Abilene to have lunch at the Olive Garden does not seem crazy to you.
15. You think that opening weekend for dove and deer seasons are holidays.
16. You find 98 degrees "a little warm," and 60 degrees downright freezing.
17. You think the only seasons are hot, damn hot, football, and deer.
18. You know if another person is from out of town the second he or she walks in the door.
19. "Overachievers" go to A&M, Tech or UT. The rest must choose from ASU, Howard Junior College, or American Commercial College
20. You've had several friends move off and move back within a couple of months...several times.
21. Your first kiss was on top of a hill overlooking the airport.
22. The Rodeo is the major event for the whole year.
23. "Mohair Capital of the World" has some meaning to you.
24. Honeymoon means "San Antonio."
25. You've ever referred to an orange and blue homecoming mum as "pretty".
26. You have ever celebrated "cotton" by having a few dozen beers.
27. You've referred to eight feet of water in a mudhole as a "lake" (as in "lake" Nastywater).
28. Your craziest/scariest driving experience was on Rollercoaster Road at night with your headlights off.
29. You get these and send them to all your San Angelo friends.