Back In Texas

I'm back in Texas - July is a big birthday month in my family - and I have a few travel notes.

On the plane from Burbank to Phoenix, a tall, balding, sort-of doofus of a guy sat in front of me. Because he was balding and because he was tall I could see that he had a huge scar that ran right down the center of his skull. It wasn't just a lumpy head which some people (like me) do have, this was an old scar, at least four inches long, puckered in the center and exposed by his male pattern baldness. There was a story behind that scar, you don't get something like that and not have a detailed, possibly hilarious explanation for it. But I didn't ask. I couldn't figure out how to bring it up. 'Excuse me, but I couldn't help but notice... did someone hit you in the head with an axe when you were younger?'

A Buddhist monk in the Phoenix men's room. He wore a yellow t-shirt, matching yellow cap, and the red skirt/robe thingy those guys have. It never occurred to me that Buddhist monks would use the restroom, I just figured it was some sort of mystic discipline that kept them from needing to go in the first place. I was also idly curious as to whether he would hike up the skirt or unzip and pull it down like a pair of pants. Alas, again I was too timid to inquire. Or to try to catch a peek.

A friendly Canadian family, friendly enough that everyone around them knew they were Canadian. Mom and Dad had beer, the three kids had milk. Quite possibly the oddest beverage combination I've seen, and I was a waiter for years.