Holiday in Dallas
This holiday was split between J. and I’s homelands. Beyond making our relationship all the more serious, it also put the burden on each family to entertain an interloper as one of their own. The first stop was Dallas for four days. Between my laziness and the lack of things outside the home to do, most time was spent lounging out, in the hardcore style. Unfocused guitar, knitting, eating, Catan, and cat petting were activities.
A few photos:
Before leaving Portland, a group met for a long pizza dinner and a stroll down Pine Oak Lane. It’s a street of tudor-ish craftsman houses, modestly decorated for the holidays. The three block walk draws a lot of watchers, and the whole thing felt festive. This mood was enhanced by a kiosk offering free hot cider. There was a roving gang of carolers. This eccentric, neon-lined man was stuck in the gawking traffic. He was a magnet for adolescent girls, a Tron-ed Piper for blossoming lasses. 
Camoflaged check-in counters at the abandoned terminal in San Francisco International Airport.
M. at her vintage clothing and oddities store Pandemonium.
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The Fabio ceiling in the Pandemonium dressing room.
A view to the front of the store through the dense racks of clothing.
The cactus outside.
Blue Man Dork.
Near White Rock Lake is a transmission station that houses of flock of more than twenty green parrots. My father discovered it while surveying for a cellphone tower nearby. Of any situation, this is the one that would have benefitted most from a telephoto lens. 
Family on the lake.
Jungle fever.
Crazy tree.
The art deco docks. The structure had over a dozen docks inside, each with a pier that could be rolled outside the building in good weather. During the summer, the building functions as a kayak rental. During the winter it was more of a duck boarding house.
The silhouette family.
Getting a beard trim by a semi-professional.
On Christmas Eve, the family went to the “Moon Mansion.” For over twenty years, I’ve been going to this party with my family. It’s hosted in an old church/now hippy compound by the father of an old friend of mine from first grade. The mix of guests ranges from frat boys to artists, from baby age to eighty. At it’s peak hours, the attendance is in the hundreds. There are always familiar faces, bountiful potluck food, and caroling around the piano. More than anything I’ve seen, it embodies the accepting and loving spirit of Christmas. 
My old friend S. singing carols.
Him and I posing in his study.
Christmas dinner, mom-made: Chicken enchiladas, beans and rice, guacamole and chips. Pictured: enchiladas.
Beans.
Rice.
J. and D. waiting to for their turn in Settler’s of Catan.
Me waiting with Milo the Cat pawing for attention.
Part of the master plan for the trip was a BBQ comparison between Dallas and Nashville. For Dallas, we went to the old favorite Sonny Bryan’s. 
Not one for atmosphere, you have to eat your beef sandwiches in cramped school desk style benches. 
Father looking out over the pond at the modern art museum in Ft. Worth.
An awesome, graphic painting by Edward Ruscha.
Kimball Art Museum in Ft. Worth.
N. and his sister and M. outside the museum.
Another holiday tradition involves destruction by bowling pin. This year, J. was brought into the melee that targeted a bench, space heater and foam mounted picture of Cheryl Crow. This year also introduced a sledge hammer as a weapon.
B. contemplates Cheryl Crow’s murder.
I go in for the killing blow.
It’s too bad the Dallas stay was so short, but I get to see two southern states out of the deal. Photos from Nashville soon.