Since I decided that I could not afford the time to go to Mexico, today was not spent driving to Falba to join my brother on his trip down. Instead, my wife and I took a short day-trip to Weatherford and then on to Mineral Wells, a couple of towns west of Fort Worth off Interstate 20, with the ultimate objective of going to the Amon Carter Museum in Fort Worth to see a photography exhibit.
It was a godawfully hot day, with the temperature registering 107 on the thermometer on my car's mirror. Fortunately, our air conditioning held up.
We stopped for a rather early lunch at a place in Weatherford called Wanda's. I think the sign proclaimed it as a place to get great home cooking. The building was old and appeared to have once housed more than one business; the two entrances did not seem to me to be intentionally designed for a restaurant. The place is an experience. The parking lot was mobbed at just after 11:00 am, though there were several empty tables. About 2/3 of the place was reserved for smokers, and there were plenty of them, including the middle-aged male cashier (more about him later).
We made our way back to a table in the non-smoking section and sat down...and waited. I began to think we would not get service but just as I was about to made a snide comment to my wife, a rather friendly waitress appeared to take our drink orders and give each of us a menu.
Before looking at the menu, I scanned the room. Almost everyone seemed to be talking to people at other tables. I'm not sure how to describe the look of the people in the room without seeming prejudiced, so I won't try. Almost everyone looked very, very 'country,' the sort of people who I equate with poor educations, ultra-conservative attitudes, rampant nationalism mistaken for patriotism, and general stupidity (there, I revealed my prejudice). All of this translates into my concept of redneck. Now, before you rake me over the coals, let me describe more specifically the 'look' of these folks so you can better understand my concept of a very, very 'country' look.
At one table near us were three guys in their thirties, two of whom had on sleeveless shirts that revealed massively tattooed upper arms. One guy wore a baseball cap, one guy wore what looked like a Greek fisherman's cap, and the other wore no cap at all. One of their shirts was an advertisement for a wrecker service; the other guys had advertisements on their shirts, too, but I don't recall for what. One of them wore a simple gold loop earring. I overheard bits & pieces of their conversation; all I could get out of it was that one of them or one of their acquaintances had been in a run-in with the police.
The booth directly in front of me and behind my wife housed two other guys. Both of them looked very, very thin. One of them was wearing a gold chain around his neck. Both of them were very darkly tanned, with leathery-looking skin. The guy with his back to me got up to look for something at a nearby table that held napkins, silverware, etc.; his bird-like legs were revealed beneath his several-sizes-too-large shorts and much too-long-belt. My immediate take on them was that they were both deeply into drugs...again, it may have been simple prejudice.
Lots of geezers sat at chairs around the place...well, they had enough age on them to be geezers. Whether they fit my definition, I can't say, but I rather doubt it.
Damn near everyone in the room looked like they spent far too much time in the sun. To hear them talk, they spent far too little time in school.
My perception of the people in the restaurant was probably shaped as much by the environment as the people themselves, though. A couple of examples: 1) A piece of art hanging on the wall directly in front of me consisted of a painting of a Confederate flag, over which there was an image of the face of Elvis Presley; and 2) the one of the items on the menu indicated it was accompanied by freedom fries. My wife pointed out, though, that French fries were listed somewhere else on the menu.
OK, maybe you get the picture.
We ordered. I got one of the luncheon specials: chicken-fried steak with 'California vegetables,' rolls, and mashed potatoes and gravy (healthy eating, I know). The vegetables were, seriously, so overcooked they fell apart as I tried to get them on the fork. Potatoes weren't too bad. Chicken-fried steak was fairly typical of unremarkable but edible chicken-fried steak. My wife ordered grilled chicken livers. They were prepared with grilled onions and fairly large bits of bacon. My wife liked them; I thought they were OK, too, but a bit strong for my taste. While I wasn't thrilled with the food or the place, overall, the waitress was nice so I left a decent tip.
When I went up to pay, the chain-smoking cashier--a guy in his late forties to early fifties, I'd guess--took his time in getting up from the table where he was chatting with his chain-smoking friends. He glanced down and I think he noticed I was wearing shorts and sandals...probably the only guy in the room to wear such garb...and he looked disgusted. Never a smile across his lips. He then looked at the bill and asked aloud "grilled WHAT?" I didn't respond, since the bill had the amount right and the cash register was not one that required entry of the name of the dish ordered. He calculated the total, grunted what it was, and I gave him a $20 bill to pay. He took it, gave me my change without a word, and returned to his seat with his buddies.
I highly recommend Wanda's, of course!
We then drifted west to Mineral Wells, which has an attractive courthouse and an old, architecturally stunning hotel that remains, unfortunately, shuttered. If I had enormous sums of money, I'd consider rehabbing it.
The long and short of our trip...it was an opportunity to get out of the city and on the road for a bit. Our ultimate goal, as I said, was to go to the Amon Carter Museum, which we did.
The exhibit (100 Great American Photographs) was really interesting. Included in the exhibit was a photo of Lincoln taken at Antietam, a photo of Marilyn Monroe taken shortly after she hit the big time, and some really touching photos of some of the great American Indian leaders who tried in vain to stop the masacre of their people and the rape of their land and their imprisonment in reservations.
Some very, very early daguerreotypes were especially interesting to me, as was an interesting photo from the dust belt of the 1930s. A Richard Avedon photo that I do not believe was included in the American West exhibition of his photography last year was interesting, too; the instant I saw the photo I knew it was Avedon's I knew it has been staged against a pure white backdrop to add extraordinary contrast to the subject.
The thing we did today that was actually the most interesting, though, was to listen to an interview with an author who wrote a book entitled Who Are You People?. The book is by Shari Caudron, who could not understand people who have passions...people who, to use examples from the interview, go to Barbie conventions, get wrapped up in adopting animal personas, do storm chasing...so she decided to explore what causes them to have such passions. It sounds fascinating. Both my wife and I want to read it.
OK, I've blogged today. Now I need to see what's up with the world.
2 comments:
Looks like your initial impressions were correct. I understand the desire to cut people some slack and to question your own assumptions. That's what liberals do--and good conservatives, too, if there are any of those left.
But some things are undeniable. Nothing screams redneck like freedom fries. Nothing shouts racist cracker like a Confederate flag. Guess I have a few prejudices of my own...
The photography exhibit sounds interesting, as does the book.
I love your "geezer" post, too!
Well, it ain't just Texas that is infested with rednecks and their lousy food. I had a friend who went back to somewhere in the Midwest, Wisconsin I think it was, and he and his wife stopped at a place to eat, wherein everything was fried. When they asked if ther were any vegetables, the waitress told them they did have Jojos...heard of those? Extra wide fries, capable of soaking up extra amounts of grease. This couple tended towards vegetarianism, due to his health issues. He had only one kidney, and a transplanted one at that. Very funny guy.
Anyway, a man we met who grew up in Beirut told me every country has rednecks. Perhaps this is not a revelation, but when you start thinking about it too much, it's fricking scary. They will one day rule us all,unless they eat themselves to death.
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