Saturday Night On The Town

So by now you know where we're going to be on a Saturday night.... that's right Garland on the Square. Next week I'll take some pictures, I don't know why I haven't done that yet.

Last night was hot!!! Flat out sticky, steamy hot! I think the heat index was probably 135 degrees. Not a breath of wind. I never saw so much sweat in all my life. There were people literally about to pass out from the heat. The sandwich shop closed at 9:00 (the only A/C around) and even though the sun had gone down there was no relief. We'll start taking a cooler with ice and water from here on out. I did take Brownies and coffee like always. The coffee drinkers were not there last night, but Jody drank some on the way home, and I had a 32oz (yippee, with emphasis on the pee) iced coffee. That came in handy later on.

The music was good as usual, even though a lot of the pickers had gone to Overton. No problem, if they'd been here it would have just cause a problem with the tiny bit of air flow we did have. There was a strange crowd out there last night.... folks I'd never seen. Maybe the Carnival was in town, or a band of Gypsies. The guys in "our group" (all good friends of Jody) were taking a break and trying to cool off. We'd moved out from under the trees to sit on the tailgate of Mark's truck. As usual the guys were eating the brownies when all of a sudden this lady/girl/whatever (we'd never seen her before last night) came up to us and asked "Are those home-made brownies in that box? Can I have one?" We were all shocked, and stood there dumbfounded. This girl was sort of like a crow.... she could spot what she wanted from way off and went for it. Jody finally said "..... Sure!" and opened the Tupperware container. She dived right in and took a brownie and walked off. We just stood there, not knowing what to say. Finally Jody spoke up "I thought I'd let her have one.... she had her hand behind her back and I was afraid she was going to shank someone." This was just the beginning of a weird night.

Then later the Cops showed up because some idiot thought it was better to call them, than to just go talk to someone like normal people do. It was just a big misunderstanding. This guy will mess around and some of the regulars will tell him not to come back. The pickers at the Square in Garland have been doing this since the 1930's and some of them are 3rd and 4th generation pickers. They rule the roost out there. If they tell you to leave you had better leave. In the year we've been going out there this was the FIRST time I'd ever seen a cop in the vicinity. They don't even drive by to check on things. I guess if it ever got really bad some one would be "El Cabong-ed" on the head with a guitar. Preferably one made in China and not a rose wood guitar.

Since I was all hopped up on coffee we decided to go with Mark and Philip to the famous Beef House. Yeah.... doesn't that name make your mouth water (kind of like when you think you may need to throw up...) This is one of the oldest 24 hour restaurants in Garland. It's old and ratty, about 1700 square feet, half for eating in and the other half kitchen and rest rooms (the ladies room had a back door! Great for when you stumble in at 4AM with a Coyote Ugly guy and you have to make a quick get away!) I won't lie to you here. I wanted so badly to take out my camera and snap a picture of the cook AND the waitress SMOKING! Yes! He was in the kitchen! AND she was waiting tables! I know my mouth was hanging open there for a minute until Mark got my attention with his laughter. This is one of those places you hear about, where everyone that comes in there has had the wind knocked out of their sails on a daily basis. These poor people can't get a break in life. And when they do, it's probably when the waitress says they can bus the tables to pay for their meal. The tables and booths are so close together that people all around us joined in on our conversation, without invitation, and we were barely talking above a whisper. I noticed the guy in the booth behind Phillip was actually leaning into hear what we were saying.
I was glad when we were finished and ready to go. The Beef House will be on the Been There, Done That... No Thank You! list. Maybe I'll bring sandwich stuff next time so we don't have to go back there.

We went outside in the parking lot to find one of the patrons and a security guard in a Spanish shouting match. The patron was calling the guard's mother unpleasant names, and the guard just stood there trying to get him to go back in and finish his lumpy grits and greasy eggs. I thought for sure we'd get to see bloodshed, but we didn't. Mark and Phillip calmly pulled out their guitars and mandolins and began to play like nothing was out of the ordinary, urging Jody to join in with them, which he did. I guess they were used to this sort of parking lot activity.

Here's the run down: Patron goes in, Guard calls the cops, Cops (2 cars, 1 K-9 unit) show up, interrogate the Guard, Crazy 'Cops' wanna be cop goes in the Beef House (I like saying that) and interrogates Patron, Crazy comes out talks it up with other cops, Dog barking madly in back of car, cops get in their vehicles and drive away. 30 minutes later Patrons (he had a friend) comes out gets on his motorcycle that he didn't know how to ride and drives off making rude hand gestures at the guard. Did I mention it was a weird night?

Mark and Phillip playing my favorite tune, Lonesome Ride.

Jody doesn't play at Garland. Those guys over there are REALLY good. Mark is known all over the state as one of the best guitar flat pickers. We just go there to watch and listen. But out in the pot-hole filled parking lot of the Beef House, Jody had an impromptu mandolin lesson from Mark. I think Jody really enjoyed himself. Before the night was over Mark had ME playing the mandolin. He's a natural teacher. He knows when to slow down and when to speed up for the people he's playing with. He could help Jody on the mandolin and Phillip on the guitar at the same time they all played the same song. He's amazing. I think he could teach a scantlin how to play. Probably not but you know what I mean. Don't know what a scantlin is? We didn't either, it's a word Mark taught us last night. It's a stick about 3-4 feet long, not quiet as thick as a fence post. You can pick it up and sling it like a boomer-rang and whollop something with it! Did I mention that Mark is a good story teller? We heard the Scantlin story last night.

We played out in the parking lot until about 3 AM! Yeah, I know, I know, my body clock goes off at 6:30 on days I don't get up at 4:30. And this morning it did, just like clockwork. So that means I'll need to go to Sam's Club pretty quick so I can get back home for a NASCAR nap. Jody is still snoozing.

Have a good week.... Ohhhh, only 4 more days of work for me then my Summer begins!