tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859932972602672224.post6408218231948048803..comments2024-03-27T20:47:44.536-06:00Comments on Random Thoughts by Mark Milliorn: Barbecue on the BrazosMark Milliornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13604793462527896688noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859932972602672224.post-37207038951301234052017-02-15T20:21:26.813-07:002017-02-15T20:21:26.813-07:00Sometimes you are the windshield, sometimes you ar...Sometimes you are the windshield, sometimes you are the bug.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08992053828872162022noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859932972602672224.post-15299385722195390672017-02-14T11:51:20.065-07:002017-02-14T11:51:20.065-07:00It seems almost impossible to go to Mexico without...It seems almost impossible to go to Mexico without coming back to a story. My Valley Grande Academy (a Seventh-day Adventist parochial boarding high school) went down to Horsetail Falls Park for the Junior-Senior banquet that year. My first time in Mexico, we crossed the border in a rented bus and headed cross-country. When we got there we had about 6 hours before the banquet, so a bunch of us paired up and headed out to see the sights. I'd picked up this cute Junior (I was a mighty Senior that year) and was walking around with her hoping to strike up a spark of some sort. We found ourselves at the horse rentals and I spent the last of my cash on a pair of seedy looking oat-burners. It was a strange horseback ride. The Mexican who rented the horses followed us on foot the whole length of the trail - I suppose to make sure these gringos didn't run off with his horses. I doubt he could have caught us if we'd made a run for it, but then he probably had them trained to come back to a whistle or something. Anyway, after we'd finished our ride through what had to be the most boring scenery in the park, we climbed down and prepared to leave. The horse-guy took me aside and whispered conspiratorially in my ear in broken English, "That joor girl friend?"<br /><br />"No," I answered, a little confused. <br /><br />His eyes brightenend. "Joo want a young girl?"<br /><br />"Whu?" I spluttered. With a little more warning I might have told him I was a good Christian, but "Whu" was about all I was able to muster in response.<br /><br />"I have a cousin in town. He can bring joo a little girl like dees one, no problemo..." he pressed.<br /><br />By then my guardian angel (the good one) had arrived on my shoulder and was prompting me to flee....<br /><br />"No," I laughed nervously. "She's my date," I explained as I commanded my feet "Don't fail me now!"<br /><br />I caught up with the girl I'd been working up the nerve to make a move on (I was terrified of females at the time - actually I still am, but I hide it better). I'd actually come to the banquet dateless as had she. Rumor had it she was dating one of her classmates' fathers. Anyway, I was relieved when she suggested I sit at her table. On the bus ride home late that evening, our pastor/chaperone made a little speech about how we were juniors and seniors and how he knew we could be trusted. Then he turned around and sat down and never looked back again. I was sitting with my new friend (the girl, not the Mexican guy)and having nothing better to do, we smooched all the way home. She had kissing down to an art form. Next day she gave me the old speech about it being one magic night but that was all and left me crushed and despairing on the steps of the classroom building. <br /><br />A trip to Mexico is definitely not anything like our senior trip to Athens, Texas. The only proposition I got in Athens, was a suggestion that we short sheet Jacinto Cobos' bed. He was our history teacher and it seemed like the thing to do. Everybody was in on it and we all chickened out. This was not, after all, any place like Mexico.Tom Kinghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16700342512275624543noreply@blogger.com