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The heartburn of Texas
Apr. 11th, 2003 11:23 amSo I'm just about all packed up for this weekend's trip to frat land. I am heading the committee that will choose the best chapter in the district for 2002-2003. For some reason, I still hold an important place in this world. All District officer Has-Beens that actually return, do.
This year, convention is in Waco. I know, Waco seems like a joke. No one would actually name a town Waco. right? Waco is the center of Baptist fun in Texas, all housed around Baylor University (where our Bears are straight, and breeding more Baptists, thankyewveddymuch). Baylor is actually much more liberal than other, smaller baptist universities in the state, but that comes along with size and some diversity.
It will be fun noticing the differences between the frat run, and the bear run of a few weeks ago.
A little more about Waco. This is the tenth anniversary of the whole Branch Davidian thing. Remember? Crazy zealot, multiple teenage wives, compound, ATF officers, the supposed trigger for the Oklahoma City bombing which happened two years later.
I'm sure that there will be no celebrations this year.
The oddity of the story for me is this, in March 1993, when the original ATF raid and standoff started, I was in Nice, France. The French Riviera. I was there with the UH Marching Band, playing for a late Carnival celebration...parades, fat tuesday and such. Despite the cold and rain, it was a fantastic trip, and Nice is a really good city, very friendly as compared to Paris.
I was with some friends, shopping in the pedestrian mall, and I notice a television that is showing this yellow building, in a field, down the road from a clearly Texas Farm-to-Market road sign. Some journalist was doing his stand up...but since it was in a store window, I could hear what he was saying. It was in French anyway, so I wouldn't know. I picked up just enough French to be able to ask where the bathroom was, how much something was, or to order a Quarter Pounder with cheese at McDonalds (Royale au Fromage).
So back at the hotel, I find Chris, the French Canadian sax player who we all leaned on a lot for translation. I sat him down in front of the television and he started to say that there was a raid in Waco and some agents had been...
WACO? WTF?
Well, it doesn't matter, we were home long before the end of that whole mess, the whole burning of the compound and all, which is April 19th of course, but it seemed so strange being so far away, and having Texas come back to haunt you in such a strange way. Texas is a strange state.
Well, hopefully there will be no big raids of the convention. Still, we can go dance now, I hear.
This year, convention is in Waco. I know, Waco seems like a joke. No one would actually name a town Waco. right? Waco is the center of Baptist fun in Texas, all housed around Baylor University (where our Bears are straight, and breeding more Baptists, thankyewveddymuch). Baylor is actually much more liberal than other, smaller baptist universities in the state, but that comes along with size and some diversity.
It will be fun noticing the differences between the frat run, and the bear run of a few weeks ago.
A little more about Waco. This is the tenth anniversary of the whole Branch Davidian thing. Remember? Crazy zealot, multiple teenage wives, compound, ATF officers, the supposed trigger for the Oklahoma City bombing which happened two years later.
I'm sure that there will be no celebrations this year.
The oddity of the story for me is this, in March 1993, when the original ATF raid and standoff started, I was in Nice, France. The French Riviera. I was there with the UH Marching Band, playing for a late Carnival celebration...parades, fat tuesday and such. Despite the cold and rain, it was a fantastic trip, and Nice is a really good city, very friendly as compared to Paris.
I was with some friends, shopping in the pedestrian mall, and I notice a television that is showing this yellow building, in a field, down the road from a clearly Texas Farm-to-Market road sign. Some journalist was doing his stand up...but since it was in a store window, I could hear what he was saying. It was in French anyway, so I wouldn't know. I picked up just enough French to be able to ask where the bathroom was, how much something was, or to order a Quarter Pounder with cheese at McDonalds (Royale au Fromage).
So back at the hotel, I find Chris, the French Canadian sax player who we all leaned on a lot for translation. I sat him down in front of the television and he started to say that there was a raid in Waco and some agents had been...
WACO? WTF?
Well, it doesn't matter, we were home long before the end of that whole mess, the whole burning of the compound and all, which is April 19th of course, but it seemed so strange being so far away, and having Texas come back to haunt you in such a strange way. Texas is a strange state.
Well, hopefully there will be no big raids of the convention. Still, we can go dance now, I hear.
