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Kathryn Besser

Where to Eat, Where to Stay

Paul’s Travelogue Austin 1999 #4

UPDATE FOUR

The Besser’s Do Austin. Chapter 4. DON’T DO THAT DADDY.

[written by Paul; edited by Kathy]

Well, my transformation to father is nearly complete. I am not necessarily transforming into MY father, but into our pop culture’s icon of a father. The transformation began the day we left California. In California, I had a wife, a child, a Ducati 750SS motorcycle with carbon-fiber pipes and a sports car. It was the best of both worlds. I still had the bachelor’s motorcycle and sports car, yet I was married and had a child and a mortgage payment. Yin and Yang were in peaceful co-existence. But Texas has changed everything. On the day we moved, as the moving van was loading the sport’s car onto the truck, I sold the motorcycle. After being in Texas for a while and seeing how aggressively Texans drive, I am still convinced that this was a good move and have no regrets about ditching the Duc. However, with all these SUV’s and pick-up trucks on the roads in Texas, I cannot see anywhere. I’ve got vans, trucks and SUV’s all around me. So, I am selling my car. A car that could drive under most of the vehicles in this state. Bye, bye, Probe GT. You were a fun car to drive. You were my gift to myself when I finished the 22nd grade (i.e. grad school). You could take 90-degree turns at 50 mph and laugh. You needed 5 radiators in 5 years. But all good things must come to an end, and you, my friend, are officially for sale.

We have ordered a new car. Ordered is the operative word. This particular car is in such high demand that it is not even in stock. And dealers expect you to buy it without a test-drive! The scary part is that a TON of people are doing it! The car has a 6-month waiting list here in Austin. (In California not only do they have a long waiting list, they sell for almost $5,000 over MSRP.) So I did what I had to do to get a deal. I went to a town 80 miles away that has one McDonalds and no Wal-Marts to find a dealer who had one in stock (for test-driving) and had an earlier delivery date than January, 2000 on new ones. Actually, Kathy and the car have the same due date – end of August. It is beige, has 210 horsepower and the same engine as the Acura TL. It is a minivan, the Honda Odyssey EX. Yes, a minivan. We thought about an SUV, but I really like the extra room in the van and the easy access. Yep, I can justify purchasing it all I want, but it is still a minivan – no matter how you slice it. We might nickname it Homer. As in, “OK, let’s take Homer to Uncle Dave’s house.” Maybe we won’t take ourselves so seriously if we name it after Mr. Simpson and his worldwide sail. Alas, I will now drive a minivan, just in time for my 34th birthday. It is only time before I take orders from a two-year old!

BTW, don’t give Kathy any grief on this one. She did not want a minivan. She thinks they are pretty unattractive. And she is right. She did not force me to surrender all of my testosterone. She actually encouraged me to get an SUV. They also sit up high and have lots of room. However, I am viewing this minivan as a combination car and pick-up. The rear seat folds out of the way with just one motion, giving me the room to haul stuff for a change. Plenty of room to put the big stuff. The only problem I foresee with this minivan is that it has 2 sliding doors. So where IS one supposed to put a gun rack?

Dane has a new phrase. “Don’t do that, Daddy.” It seems like a pretty appropriate phrase, considering the minivan purchase. My prophetic son has a message for me before it is too late. His commentary on my life is accompanied with a shake of his little head, a push of my face out of the way, and a look to Mommy for support. He whips out this phrase when I am tickling him, if he is irritable, or if I am just plain in his face. Sometimes he uses it just because he can, even though he is laughing hysterically all the while. Aaahhh, the transformation is almost complete. With a little effort, I can gain some extra weight, start watching more TV, stop exercising, and become complacent. I could become Kathy’s dream man (.NOT) and blame the whole mess on Texas. The seeds of mid-life crisis are sewn, watered, fertilized, and under an intense heat lamp in the Besser Family. The only thing left is to rip them out of the ground like the weeds they are! This can be done with a few conversion kits: make the van a low-rider, install a killer sound system (already in the works), fuzzy dice (already bought), install some drapes, and, of course, strategically place a bumper sticker proclaiming “If this van’s a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’.” If anyone has such a bumper sticker, let me know! That’s all for now. Write back soon (hint, hint)…

NEXT: AUSTIN - UPDATE FIVE

CONTINUE READING

Copyright 2026 Kathryn Besser