Houstonians

I love traveling. I always have. This could be do to the fact that my dad served in the Military for 20 years making me an Army Brat. Maybe I just learned to like traveling now that he is retired. Today, I am in Houston, Texas. A part of me says that I am back home because I was born just north of here in Killeen and the humidity reminds me of North Carolina. Another part of me actually misses the Mormon infested, mountainous state of Utah. I did not realize how much I loved Utah until I came here. Houston has got nothing on Mormonville. It is hot, humid and other than NASA there is not much to do down here in the dirty south. Well, it is not that dirty but I found myself very disappointed when I did not see a plethora of cowboy hats when I exited the plane. I have seen thus far a total of four and this is my third day here. Speaking of planes, I get to ride one of NASAs, the VOMIT COMET. I have not actually vomited in years but I am getting anxious to find out whether or not the name of the aircraft will ring true for me. Anyway, despite the fact that there is not much to do and my skin is constantly damp throughout the day, the people here are more friendly than the characters at Disneyland. When I got off the bus and walked to another bus stop with all my luggage, I sat and waited. I waited for an hour. A local saw me and asked, "are you ok?" With a smile and a slight chuckle I said yes. The same person came back to the bus stop and sat across from me and asked again, "are you ok?" The first thing I thought was, "wow people are nice here!" It's not that Utah is not nice it's just that Utah is shy, or maybe just too self observed to say hello. I hope I am not considered a Utahn. This Houstonian, born and raised was Victor. For a moment I forgot about the heat and humidity. He asked me if I saw the game last night and motioned for a piece of gum when I got a piece for myself. Another Houstonian said a pretty eyes in a Spanish accent. Ten more walking the streets were homeless caring more grocery bags than I carry after I walk out of a grocery store with two weeks of groceries. One Houstonian was shaking, drawing shapes in the air and talking to himself. What an adventure! Oh, and I am a minority again. It is quite refreshing.