HAPPPPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA!
It took an extra day to get this post done because it was such an exciting weekend. Before I get started though, I'd appreciate a few prayers for two different close family friends having health trouble right now. Thanks.
Now to the celebratory weekend.....
It was quite the adventure. It started Friday and with me came my boyfriend--- who we can call, "Gob" and one of my best friends--- who we will refer to as "Brick," (both are ridiculous nick names, I know, but with long explanations that would make me sound less entertaining/funny and more stupid/outrageous, I won't even attempt it.) Anyway Gob, Brick and I piled in to Rosie, my red VW Jettea, and headed south, destination: Port Aransas, TX. My family has vacationed there my entire life and more July 4ths than not, I have been on the seaweed covered; tar filled, beautiful Mustang Island.
The trip down there was getting long right about Karnes City with 2 more hours to go, so where 123 and 181 meet, in a long line of cars, we did the ultimate road trip activity: The Chinese Fire drill. I haven’t participated in one of these in at least 15 years, and I must say, it was exhilarating. I almost smashed into Gob as I tried delicately, but quickly to run in my 4 inch wedge heels. As we all jumped back in to the car we couldn't help but notice the farmer in the truck behind us laughing so hard, I was worried about his ability to drive. And with that, and the discussion and laughter to follow, our drive got exponentially easier.
That is, until we hit Wal-Mart. See Gob had a last minute change of plans that enabled him to go to the beach, but that also left him with very limited wardrobe or bathroom essentials like deodorant. Easy fix: hit up Wal-Mart. Or so we thought. We walked into the Wal-Mart in Aransas Pass, TX. I mention the exact town because if you didn't know that, you may have thought it was an alternate universe. I think it goes without saying that my 4 inch wedges were slightly out of place. We decided to split up. Gob got his stuff, we grabbed some snacks and magazines, and as we stood in line to checkout we couldn't help but wonder what planet we were on when the cashier asked the lady in front of us, in the thickest TX accent possible, "Well don’t you look fat and happy?" The customer took it as though she asked "Honey, what have you been up to?" and answered calmly with her latest news. Anywhere else in the world, I can't help but think, not only, would the customer be offended, but there would probably be some sort of lawsuit to follow.
After a quick ferry trip over to the island, the first order of business was dinner at Beaches. This is a fairly new place on the small island that I would highly recommend. On the table when our dinner was served was a spread of dishes like flounder, chicken fried steak, pulled pork, corn on the cob, and hand cut French fries. Everything except the Mac and Cheese (which tasted like a powdery version of Luby's M&C) was delicious.
Next Gob, Brick and I headed out for night and this is where things get interesting. We started at a little biker bar just down from the famous Crazy Cajun called The Gaff. This place is truly a gem. With no AC and only beer and wine we decided on a round of Michelob Ultra and a cool, breezy spot on the back patio. Now Gob and I have been here before, a couple of times, but it was a new experience for Brick. And boy was she confused when we tried to explain the belt sander race track on one side of the yard. Supposedly (I have not actually ever witnessed the races) every second Saturday and Fourth Saturday of the month, many of the Port Aransas locals gather to race their trusty belt sanders down a wooden track. I really should have taken a picture of this madness. It's hysterical. The Gaff is also known for its handmade pizza. So one major highlight is the smell flowing in and out of the back door, as you try to figure out the belt sander contraptions. After sweating through another round, and a few attempts at the ring on a string game, we headed to our next stop, Wild Horse Saloon.
Our entrance to WHS reminds me of an old western movie. The door flies open, and as we strut in, every head at the bar turns to see what out-of-towner has just walked into their bar. We decided to limit our time here and were back out on Allister Street within 10 minutes.
The final bar for this night was Salty Dog-- a Port A institution. As we walked up through the dirt parking lot, we could already hear an all star karaoke rendition of Billy Joel's Piano Man. This is always a good sign. When we got inside it was a mess of soccer mom-cougars, serious cowboy bubbas, and some frat daddies in boat shoes. That is, aside from the toothless wonders camped out at the bar. We found a booth in the corner next to the pool tables where we witnessed not only some NSYNC on the karaoke stage, but possibly the ugliest game of pool ever. This was when we decided a snack was the only thing we should consider besides calling it a night.
Stripes convenient store was next door so we stopped in to grab late night goodies. This is when Brick and I learned Gob's undying love for Bombstick ice creams. We bought him one and headed back to the house. Night one was strange, but none the less, a good time for all.
Saturday morning started with some donuts and kolaches from Donut Palace and a nice homemade smoothie. We then loaded up all the beach chairs, mats, towels, canopy and frisbees our little golf cart could hold and headed for a day of fun on the Texas Riviera. It was GORGEOUS. Let me stop here and say that Port A, and most Texas beaches, are not exactly white sand, clear water types. More like hard, packed, gray sand that is underneath lots of seaweed. The water is the result of more than just the Deep Water Horizon oil spill. Years of oil in the gulf has left the TX beaches a little bit murky at best. Not this time though. I'm not saying the water was crystal clear, but there was almost no seaweed, relatively clear water and somewhat impressive waves. As we hung out reading, tanning, and playing frisbee we decided learning to surf could be fun. Gob has done it before and I am looking forward to trying in Costa Rica next month. Well conditions were so good that all the boards were rented, so we got reservations for two boards on Sunday.
After we got way too much sun we drove our little lobster bodies to the liquor store to pick up some beverages for the night's fiesta at the house. With my sister and Brick on the back of the golf cart, Gob driving and me in the passenger's seat we were within all laws governing golf cart operation when the Port A police truck was behind us and the officer in the driver's seat was pointing at us. Emily suggested we pull over to allow him room to go around us, but as we got to the side of the road, the officer pulled over too. We all were talking at once trying to figure out what could be the reason for the stop when my sister realized the officer was an old high school buddy! And after offering him a beer and dinner at the house later, we were back on our way home.
Before dinner a family friend who was staying with us for the holiday weekend made some authentic guacamole. It was delicious. We fired up the grill for our annual hot dog night and ended up eating guacamole dogs. If you haven't tried this yet, just simply a hot dog with guacamole instead of the usual mustard, ketchup, onions or whatever, you should. Even my sister, who doesn’t love alvacados was a fan!
After a visit from my boss and her grandson, and a couple of games of beer pong, where I lost miserably to the Texas Tech graduate, Gob, we headed back to the now infamous Port A bar scene--this time on our bikes. Yep, you read that right; we rode our bikes to the bar.
We parked our bikes outside the Salty Dog, the closest bar to our house and headed inside. When we got to the bar we remembered the pretty impressive jello shots from the night before. We decided to stick to that and when the three of us ordered a dozen, the bartender served them up in an adorable Corona Light to-go carrier. He mentioned that we would have to get 15 instead of 12 to hit the 15 dollar minimum, and so he gave us two more. Yah, two more, not three. Clearly math was overwhelming for our bartender friend, so we let it go. That's when we decided taking the jello shots in their carrying case to the beach, on our bikes, was the one way we could really make the most of this situation. And that we did.
After jello shots on the beach our only real option to continue the night was to first return the bikes to the house to avoid any law-breaking, drinking and biking, and then walk to the next spot. That next spot was a second attempt at the Wild Horse Saloon.
Round two was a lot better than round one. We ordered up a couple of Flaming Dr. Peppers and though we were still out the door in ten minutes, we were much better received in that ten minutes than before.
Next stop was where the weekend took a monster turn for the more outrageous. It was Bernies. At Bernies, if you look around between the Kenny Chesney songs and Jay-Z (which says enough already) you will see a nice collage of types. The cougar-soccer moms are out in force, but add to that some college kids, local fisherman, and even a few transnational gang types and underagers. It goes from Midnight Rodeo to Dirty 6th street and back as the song changes. We found a spot off to the side right as the cupid shuffle came on. Brick and I rushed to the dance floor and joined two sorority girls, a proud lesbian, and a good'ol Aggie that danced like one of those crumping groups on So You Think You Can Dance. We did the shuffle long after the song ended, and as Gob led us off the dance floor he was stopped by a nice, Latina woman who asked, "Are you here alone?" He laughed considering he was wearing a 4X white tank top that Brick and I begged him to buy back at the twilight Wal-Mart. After he fumbled through a "I'm with those girls" as he chuckled, Brick stumbled over 40 bucks cash on the floor. This was certainly going to be the highlight of the night so we collected our winnings, and headed to The Gaff for some of that famous pizza I mentioned before. We walked up to The Gaff at about midnight. The sign said "Open Till 11ish" and people were still up at the bar, so we went in only to have the bartender tell us the ovens were turned off. Bummer, so it was back to Stripes, where Gob devoured another Bombstick. This time he even bombsticked himself, and got the ice cream on the fancy white tank. Epic night.
Sunday started with a trip to Dulce Vida nail salon. This is my favorite nail salon ever. The Taiwanese gals are the nicest and remember every detail about ya, every time you visit. We picked some pretty bright, summer colors (including a fireworks color on Bricks fingers) and relaxed for a solid hour to hour and a half. If you are ever in Port A and want some time out of the sun, Dulce Vida is definitely worth looking up.
While we got our nails done, Gob took a surf board to go test out the gnarly waves. But to our dismay, they were awful. What a difference a day can make! The beach was overnight, full of seaweed, the water was full of black mulch and the waves were tiny. We looked up the high tide time for the day and it looked as though heading back to the beach much later might give us some different conditions.
Until then we decided to run over to The Gaff and grab some pizza for lunch. This pizza is so good. Crispy crust, yummy toppings, a perfect combination.
When it was late in the afternoon enough, we loaded the surf boards up and headed for the beach. Although we knew conditions were not quite what they had been the day before, we were prepared to learn the basics. Gob did a great job of a quick tutorial on the sand, and then it was out in the water we went.
We got out to the area where the waves seemed to get the highest, and while I did ride two waves in just laying on the board, it was getting back out that was the hardest part. I literally was getting beat up by waves-- little, annoying, dirty, salt water waves. From the salt burning my eyes, nose and getting whip lash when I wound not turn around quick enough to see a small, yet forceful wave coming, I gave up quickly. Brick had a little bit better time on the board. She got up to her knees twice, and didn't have near the trouble getting back out in-between rides. In the end though, we decided to call it a day and I probably won't be cast in the Blue Crush 3, that's for sure.
For the last evening we had no choice but to get right back out there in the Port A night life. And this decision would not disappoint. First though, my dado beat the Texas Tech beer pong champion at his own game. Now Brick was his partner and he did have to carry the team to the end, but Dado and Mario-- King of Guacamole, knocked out the cups faster than Gob could carry himself and Brick to victory. The loss was no indication of a failing night because this night might have been better than the first two....
And just to add a little edge to the fun we decided each of us would have to perform one funny task at each bar. We headed to Salty Dog and debated telling jokes, dancing, singing to bartenders and getting hugs from perfect strangers.
Once inside that Port A staple, we assessed the audience. There was a very sweet, normal looking 50- something sitting on a barstool that we decided would be Gob's target for a hug before we left. We found a pretty country looking cowboy in a bright orange shirt with a cowboy hat who stood no taller than 5'6 but was equally as wide. I would be hugging him before we left and Brick's task was yet to be decided. After a 10 minute conversation with the 50-something Gob returned with no hug, only to explain that he simply "planted the seed." He assured us he would still get his hug, but didn't notice when the cougar got up and walked out before he got his chance. I waltzed over to our cowboy and told him what a great hat he was wearing only to be offered a hug just for the compliment. Winning.
We couldn’t decide Brick's task so Gob, after conspiring with a local, with a ponytail longer than mine, decided she should get him to buy her one of the beloved jello shots. He did, after trying to seduce her with some story about a comb and wax paper, and shortly after all that we headed out to round 3 at Wild Horse Saloon.
This is where the night really got good. One unknown fact about Wild Horse Saloon, for us anyway, was that Sunday nights are "Pride Nights." Yep. We walked in and there was a long table of middle aged women, some with crew cuts, some covered in turquoise jewelry. They were all dancing when one gal came up to us right away and gave us the Cliffs Notes version of her life story---all spent in Port Aransas of course. Anyway we decided my task would be to get a hug from our new friend, so back over to her I went. After she gave me some story about digging up turquoise and silver in mines for her girlfriend, who made her necklace, a story she literally was trying to whisper in my ear, she gave me a hug, and I returned to our spot at the bar victorious. That's when Gob decided to order a "Blue Wave" for Brick and I. Fortunately for Brick and me, the bartender didn't know what this shot was. After laughing to himself Gob explained that the blue wave is a two part shot. The first is some blue colored concoction that you take, and as you are taking it the bartender sprays you in the face with water for the second part. Instead we settled on the first part, but obviously not the second. Just before we got up to go because we had definitely exceeded our 10 minute time limit at WHS, we noticed a guy wearing pajama pants in the bar. Pajama pants with pizza toppings all over them. Obviously Brick's task would be to go make friends and get herself a hug from this stud. She did so in under a minute, and just before the "Pride Night Limbo Contest" we got out the door.
From here we headed back to Bernies. The only real highlight this time was Gob dancing with a quite large girl in a moo moo. Well that, and of course the Bombstick on the walk home.
The next morning we loaded up and headed home. It was a fun, jello shot and bombstick filled weekend all in celebration of our great nation's birthday. So happy birthday America, and may next year we celebrate again-- Port A style!
xoxo Sara Marie
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