Woke up a little late and chose North as the direction of the day - up RT 87 to Lubbock.
Lamesa is where the fracked gas and oil fields give way to cotton fields and life returns to the land.
I met a Cambodian-American couple with a donut and kolache business there.
Sam told me about Cambodia, about how the same crooked people have held power for 40 years, about how China is building a military base there, about the exodus of Cambodians who have learned other ways of thinking and want to return to Cambodia and change things.
He's counting on Donald Trump to protect them from the Chinese.
Obama's face was too nice, Sam said.
"Trump's face looks mean and ugly," said Sam, "China is afraid of him".
"Trump don't play," he said.
And I was politely smiling, shaking my head a little.
I am not so sure he's got your best interest at heart, my friend.
Lubbock was quiet on Sunday morning. I saw Buddy Holly Boulevard and two blocks of bail bonds places where it intersected Main. A freight train loading at the the cotton gyn. Empty streets. Full church parking lots.
I drove around the low houses in the subdivisions, Texas Tech, a mall overrun with Christmas shoppers from far and wide, and I had to contend with traffic as the afternoon progressed.
Just a city. And me, only a ghost.
Lamesa is where the fracked gas and oil fields give way to cotton fields and life returns to the land.
I met a Cambodian-American couple with a donut and kolache business there.
Sam told me about Cambodia, about how the same crooked people have held power for 40 years, about how China is building a military base there, about the exodus of Cambodians who have learned other ways of thinking and want to return to Cambodia and change things.
He's counting on Donald Trump to protect them from the Chinese.
Obama's face was too nice, Sam said.
"Trump's face looks mean and ugly," said Sam, "China is afraid of him".
"Trump don't play," he said.
And I was politely smiling, shaking my head a little.
I am not so sure he's got your best interest at heart, my friend.
Lubbock was quiet on Sunday morning. I saw Buddy Holly Boulevard and two blocks of bail bonds places where it intersected Main. A freight train loading at the the cotton gyn. Empty streets. Full church parking lots.
I drove around the low houses in the subdivisions, Texas Tech, a mall overrun with Christmas shoppers from far and wide, and I had to contend with traffic as the afternoon progressed.
Just a city. And me, only a ghost.
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