Two years ago I was reintroduced to the horses courtesy of Lone Star Park five miles from my home. Nestled beautifully between the old Nokia theater and Air-Hogs ballpark. Some great amenities and if nothing else a night out in the elements.
I first heard Ernie Harwell do his thing in May 1987 filling in for Harry Caray as Harry recovered from a stroke on WGN. With a flair for the dramatic, on that night Cubby Jamie Moyer flirted for 8 innings with a no-hitter before the no-no was broken up in Philadelphia. Thought to myself,'This guy is special! No pretense, no bull. Down to earth and lots of anecdotal tidbits'.
Last week I observed the practice of sucking out the head and biting off the tails...or vice-versa. This week I became a crawfish virgin no more. What I couldn't figure out was why so much of the damn cajun mammal goes to waste. All that body full of empty. I mean a regular shrimp you rip the skin and go to town! Not so with Crawfish.
No camera and a turned off phone. My friend and I took in the sights, sounds, and smells. Nestled close to the TCU campus and the Trinity River, the locale of Mayfest provided a tranquil backdrop to an afternoon of sunshine and blue sky. I was amazed at how chill everybody...and I mean EVERYBODY...was.
Friday, May 14, 2010 at 8:23AM