STUCK: HOUSTON

Reflection, Rumination & Rhetoric from the Road

Because I’m tired of three Texan cities in a row (traffic and hideous aesthetic) I might have launched yesterday morning for New Orleans.

But I was just too dang tired of driving and needed a break.

So: Stuck to plan, stuck in Houston—a day off to take full advantage of the quite magnificent Post Oak Hotel.

In-room entertainment

First: After sleeping in, an oat latte in Bouchee Patisserie.

Second: A jaunt to The Great American Temple, otherwise known as The Galleria, a retail paradise (or hell) on steroids.

This is where we worship the almighty dollar—and what may be consumed with enough of them.

A monument to the gods of capitalism

Hail Vuitton, Gucci and Prada (brands I once favored until they went bling and I grew up)—and pray to St. Matthew, patron saint of finances, to provide a winning lottery ticket.

Of course, the Escalade is already stuffed to its gills with apparel for all climes… but I just discovered I’m about to run out of socks. (Brooks Brothers obliged.)

I’ve never seen so many Escalades and Suburbans in one place as around this part of Houston. My COW (Clubhouse on Wheels) is in pasture heaven with all its brethren. Texans like BIG. (What they do not like is vehicles that sport Cali plates…).

Third: Stella’s Wine Bar. A complimentary glass of vino.

Fourth: Willie G’s Seafood, 300 feet from the hotel’s front entrance: Gulf oysters on the half-shell and bacon-wrapped Gulf shrimp.

Plus a Tom Waits Valentine card…