Most people come to Texas for the same reason Humphrey Bogart went to Casablanca- they start out looking for a good BBQ sandwich and then they get sidetracked trying to find happiness. They wind up happy just to find a parking place. Of course if you don't drive a car the situation can get more problematic. Be that as it may, by the time most of us realize we are never going to grow up, we also begin to realize happiness is a highly transitory state. It's kind of like hearing from someone you love, who only seem to call from airports.
Sunday morning when I woke up I took the shortest route from my bed to the coffee pot. I damn near broke my neck when I tripped over a pile of female clothing lying on my floor. At first I could not remember what they were doing in my room. At that hour of the morning I had a slight problem recalling what I was doing in my room.
An angelic voice singing in the shower brought back memories of the night before. I thought I recognized the tune, an operatic version of Merle Haggard's Workin Man's Blues.
A smile formed on my lips. It had not been an unhappy night I recalled. The two of us knew that happiness is a highly transitory state. Much like when someone you love, calls from an airport.