DON HENLEY IS *NOT* FROM LINDALE, TEXAS
My aunt had recently taken a leisurely drive with a friend through East Texas and called me up afterwards to give me a hot tip about having seen a large "hidden" room of books in one of those quaint antique shops one sees in every small Texas town. She thought I might want to hotfoot it out east to paw through the waiting treasures that were no doubt nestled amongst doilies and novelty salt and pepper shakers. (And when I say "hotfoot it," I decided to mosey on out that way a good two months after she mentioned it to me. I mean, what would I do with a roomful of books? Even if they were good? How would I pay for them? And, really, wouldn't it probably just be a shitload of Book of the Month Club titles from the '70s or tattered National Geographics?) But, my dance card's not exactly bursting at the seams these days, so ... why not? I set off in the direction of Mineola.
I always like driving along Hwy 80. You have to get past Terrell for the stink the big city to recede -- about 45 minutes of driving from Dallas -- but after that, it's sporadically scenic, and it's dotted with small towns, side-of-the-road produce stands, and businesses run by guys named Shorty or Joe Don. The closer you get to East Texas, the thicker and taller the trees get.
It was a beautiful Saturday, and everyone seemed to be out having fun. When I drove through Edgewood, I felt like I had either traveled back in time or had stumbled onto some sort of spontaneous antique car-palooza. Vintage cars were everywhere. It was weird. At one point, I was looping back to the highway from some forgotten side street when I came across two really cool-looking vehicles heading right toward me. The first was a small brown sort-of-car-sort-of-truck that had to have been custom-made, driven by a middle-aged man who intently gripped the steering wheel with his right hand while his left arm rested half-in and half-out of the open driver's window. He looked proud and serene. The car following him was much older -- kind of like the antique cars at Six Flags. The driver was a woman, and I can only guess that she was his wife, gamely sharing her husband's weekend enthusiasm. When the cars passed me, the man kept his gaze on the road, but his wife smiled broadly and waved at me like I was a long-lost childhood friend. I smiled and waved back.
Grand Saline was next. Known for its vast underground salt deposits, the "saline" part of the town's name is actually pronounced "suh-LEEN." It's a cute town, and I wish to GOD they still had tours of the Morton salt mine -- I can't tell you how much I've always wanted to see that. Instead, I drove around the town looking at all sorts of things, until I noticed an old rust-colored building in the distance. It turned out to be an old cotton gin built, I think, in 1890 (and possibly undergoing some sort of renovation). I went up on the road running along the back of the gin and took this photo:
I love this. I could look at this all day long. Here it is from the "front" (with "Grand Saline Vol. Fire Dept." and "Cotton Gin Massacre" written on the side):
There is a front porch with chairs. An old hitching post. And right off the road, two really wonderful rustic sculptures of a bear and a bull, each carved out of a solid piece of wood (East Texas is known for its trees and its lumber industry). I had stumbled onto a couple of pieces of really great local folk art, plopped down in front of an old cotton gin that may or may not be affiliated with the Grand Saline Volunteer Fire Department.
(When I got home, I set out to track down who the artist was. I came across this article -- which had been posted only a couple of days before: "Tree Trimmer Branches Out to Explore Wood-Carving" The artist is Jimmy Hobbs, and the pieces are carved with a chainsaw. He's been doing this only a few months. I love them and hope he keeps at it.)
At this point I knew I'd never make it to the books in time. Mineola (one of my all-time favorite old-timey-sounding town names) was farther than I'd remembered. The drive was pleasant enough, but I realized I'd left way too late and probably wouldn't reach my vaguely situated antique shoppe destination until almost 5:00. As the owner of the shop had been described to me as being an elderly woman, I pretty much assumed that by 5:00 that shop was shut tight and long-closed; by now the proprietress was probably sitting at the dinner table and finishing off the last of her bread pudding. So, even though it had taken me a couple of hours of meandering driving to get there, I didn't actually get to where I was headed. (I didn't even SEE the place, but I wasn't really trying because ... bread pudding, etc. And, as I said, do I really want -- or need a roomful of books?)
Mineola's cute, too -- I drove around a bit and felt cozy. But where to next? I saw a sign for Lindale and decided to head there. Here's what I knew about Lindale: it's where Miranda Lambert is from. And, I thought, Don Henley. So, tiny hometown of very successful singers -- why not? It's as good a reason as any. I wasn't disappointed. As I approached the outskirts of the town, there was a big "welcome" sign with Miranda Lambert and her guitar on it. At that point I started to doubt it was Don Henley's hometown -- where was HIS billboard? Wouldn't he have gotten some mention? Haven't the Eagles sold, like, a billion albums? 'Cause let me tell you, it was all-Miranda, all the time: that billboard outside of town; a sign painted on a building downtown touting a Miranda Lambert museum/gift shop; a winery (?!) featuring wine names inspired by Miranda and her song titles; and, of course, Miranda's hits playing (on a loop?) in the local Dairy Queen (maybe it was just a weird coincidence that one of her songs was playing as I stood at the counter, but I hope not...). Even though I got excited when I saw that the Lindale high school's team name was the Eagles, I checked my phone when I could get an internet connection and found that Don Henley is from Linden -- a different small town in East Texas, about a hundred miles away (where the mascot is, sadly, a tiger and not an eagle). Oh well. Nice little town, though.
(By the way, I'm actually a fan of Miranda Lambert. I love her voice, and I'm really impressed by her songwriting. Every song I've heard by her I've loved. And her side group, The Pistol Annies, is great, too. See some kick-ass (...did I just say "kick-ass"?...) videos at the end of this never-ending post. Seriously -- she has one of the best voices in contemporary country music.)
Oops -- branch covering her face. Sorry, Miranda!
Sandy's Pies & More -- "Whole & Fried" (I'd love to see a whole pie, fried.)
Every small town needs its own candy shop.
Note the ever-present eagle on the water tower, upper right.
It was starting to get late, and I needed to head home before it got dark. My journey to the mysterious roomful of books in the never-pinpointed antique shop was a bust. I'll try again someday. Maybe on my way to Linden.
A few signs of note I saw along the way -- things you're unlikely to see in the city:
"We Sell Cell Phones, Subs, Tacos, Fishing Worms"
"Alba Wild Hog Cook-Off, April 20th"
"Gopher Poison, Fertilizer, Lime"
***
The first time I ever became aware of Miranda Lambert was this song on our local Americana station. I was shocked to learn she was only 20 or something and wrote all her own songs. And, wow, that voice is fantastic.
And then I started hearing the Pistol Annies on the same Americana station. I just looked them up on YouTube. I've never even seen what they look like. Miranda is quite clearly the best here, but they're all pretty good.
I always like driving along Hwy 80. You have to get past Terrell for the stink the big city to recede -- about 45 minutes of driving from Dallas -- but after that, it's sporadically scenic, and it's dotted with small towns, side-of-the-road produce stands, and businesses run by guys named Shorty or Joe Don. The closer you get to East Texas, the thicker and taller the trees get.
It was a beautiful Saturday, and everyone seemed to be out having fun. When I drove through Edgewood, I felt like I had either traveled back in time or had stumbled onto some sort of spontaneous antique car-palooza. Vintage cars were everywhere. It was weird. At one point, I was looping back to the highway from some forgotten side street when I came across two really cool-looking vehicles heading right toward me. The first was a small brown sort-of-car-sort-of-truck that had to have been custom-made, driven by a middle-aged man who intently gripped the steering wheel with his right hand while his left arm rested half-in and half-out of the open driver's window. He looked proud and serene. The car following him was much older -- kind of like the antique cars at Six Flags. The driver was a woman, and I can only guess that she was his wife, gamely sharing her husband's weekend enthusiasm. When the cars passed me, the man kept his gaze on the road, but his wife smiled broadly and waved at me like I was a long-lost childhood friend. I smiled and waved back.
Grand Saline was next. Known for its vast underground salt deposits, the "saline" part of the town's name is actually pronounced "suh-LEEN." It's a cute town, and I wish to GOD they still had tours of the Morton salt mine -- I can't tell you how much I've always wanted to see that. Instead, I drove around the town looking at all sorts of things, until I noticed an old rust-colored building in the distance. It turned out to be an old cotton gin built, I think, in 1890 (and possibly undergoing some sort of renovation). I went up on the road running along the back of the gin and took this photo:
I love this. I could look at this all day long. Here it is from the "front" (with "Grand Saline Vol. Fire Dept." and "Cotton Gin Massacre" written on the side):
There is a front porch with chairs. An old hitching post. And right off the road, two really wonderful rustic sculptures of a bear and a bull, each carved out of a solid piece of wood (East Texas is known for its trees and its lumber industry). I had stumbled onto a couple of pieces of really great local folk art, plopped down in front of an old cotton gin that may or may not be affiliated with the Grand Saline Volunteer Fire Department.
(When I got home, I set out to track down who the artist was. I came across this article -- which had been posted only a couple of days before: "Tree Trimmer Branches Out to Explore Wood-Carving" The artist is Jimmy Hobbs, and the pieces are carved with a chainsaw. He's been doing this only a few months. I love them and hope he keeps at it.)
At this point I knew I'd never make it to the books in time. Mineola (one of my all-time favorite old-timey-sounding town names) was farther than I'd remembered. The drive was pleasant enough, but I realized I'd left way too late and probably wouldn't reach my vaguely situated antique shoppe destination until almost 5:00. As the owner of the shop had been described to me as being an elderly woman, I pretty much assumed that by 5:00 that shop was shut tight and long-closed; by now the proprietress was probably sitting at the dinner table and finishing off the last of her bread pudding. So, even though it had taken me a couple of hours of meandering driving to get there, I didn't actually get to where I was headed. (I didn't even SEE the place, but I wasn't really trying because ... bread pudding, etc. And, as I said, do I really want -- or need a roomful of books?)
Mineola's cute, too -- I drove around a bit and felt cozy. But where to next? I saw a sign for Lindale and decided to head there. Here's what I knew about Lindale: it's where Miranda Lambert is from. And, I thought, Don Henley. So, tiny hometown of very successful singers -- why not? It's as good a reason as any. I wasn't disappointed. As I approached the outskirts of the town, there was a big "welcome" sign with Miranda Lambert and her guitar on it. At that point I started to doubt it was Don Henley's hometown -- where was HIS billboard? Wouldn't he have gotten some mention? Haven't the Eagles sold, like, a billion albums? 'Cause let me tell you, it was all-Miranda, all the time: that billboard outside of town; a sign painted on a building downtown touting a Miranda Lambert museum/gift shop; a winery (?!) featuring wine names inspired by Miranda and her song titles; and, of course, Miranda's hits playing (on a loop?) in the local Dairy Queen (maybe it was just a weird coincidence that one of her songs was playing as I stood at the counter, but I hope not...). Even though I got excited when I saw that the Lindale high school's team name was the Eagles, I checked my phone when I could get an internet connection and found that Don Henley is from Linden -- a different small town in East Texas, about a hundred miles away (where the mascot is, sadly, a tiger and not an eagle). Oh well. Nice little town, though.
(By the way, I'm actually a fan of Miranda Lambert. I love her voice, and I'm really impressed by her songwriting. Every song I've heard by her I've loved. And her side group, The Pistol Annies, is great, too. See some kick-ass (...did I just say "kick-ass"?...) videos at the end of this never-ending post. Seriously -- she has one of the best voices in contemporary country music.)
Oops -- branch covering her face. Sorry, Miranda!
Sandy's Pies & More -- "Whole & Fried" (I'd love to see a whole pie, fried.)
Every small town needs its own candy shop.
Note the ever-present eagle on the water tower, upper right.
It was starting to get late, and I needed to head home before it got dark. My journey to the mysterious roomful of books in the never-pinpointed antique shop was a bust. I'll try again someday. Maybe on my way to Linden.
A few signs of note I saw along the way -- things you're unlikely to see in the city:
"We Sell Cell Phones, Subs, Tacos, Fishing Worms"
"Alba Wild Hog Cook-Off, April 20th"
"Gopher Poison, Fertilizer, Lime"
***
The first time I ever became aware of Miranda Lambert was this song on our local Americana station. I was shocked to learn she was only 20 or something and wrote all her own songs. And, wow, that voice is fantastic.
Click to viewAnd then I started hearing the Pistol Annies on the same Americana station. I just looked them up on YouTube. I've never even seen what they look like. Miranda is quite clearly the best here, but they're all pretty good.