Day Twenty

People that have known me a long time will know that I lived in Dallas during the early and mid-1980s. When I left, I didn't think they could cram any more people into the city but after visiting my old neighborhood on the north side of town today I realize I was wrong. There must not be anybody left in Michigan or Ohio. They are all in Dallas and Houston and they all drive monster SUVs. I really enjoyed Dallas when I lived here because of the unique character and spirit of the city but it too seems to have been sucked into the giant vortex of corporate greed and conspicuous consumption that has swallowed so many American cities whole. With the endless mold of Wal-Mart, Target, McDonalds, Starbucks, Old Navy, and Applebee's, I could just as easily be in Atlanta, Cleveland, or Chicago. It reminds me of mixing paint. If you pour all the colors of the rainbow in a big pot and stir, you end up with brown. That's just what our cities have become for the most part, brown and lifeless. It's all very sad and disheartening but I suppose it keeps the clones on Wall Street and good old boys in the board rooms up to their necks in Mercedes and mistresses.

Horses at Los Calinas

There is a remarkable larger-than-life statue of a herd of wild horses running through a creek on a plaza in an office park called Los Calinas between Dallas and Fort Worth which I have always found fascinating because it reminds me of the old Remington and Russell paintings of the Wild West. I tried to visit the horses today and take some photographs, but no sooner than I had pulled out my camera, a security guard sporting a cheap polyester blazer and a forced smile informed me that dogs were not allowed on the plaza. I challenged her as to what damage a fifteen pound dog could cause to a half acre of concrete but she stood firm. I briefly considered a sit-in in protest but left dejectedly instead muttering obscenities under my breath and hoping that Zoobley would oblige them with a deposit before we reached the parking lot. I did manage to sneak a couple of quick photos while the guard had her back turned.

Hurry while the old bat ain' lookin'