Chicken Fried Tofu

Some days are just more coherent than others.

Having to unpack one suitcase, then load everything back up a second time — nothing this weekend, but El Paso in a few weeks — makes me a little crazy. Disturbs the flow, as it were. By noon, I had fooled around with stupid links, looked at a column deadline and laughed, talked to the AC Repair guy, feed the cat, and not done much else. I took off to do some real work, but the relatively high wind made me think twice so I opted for an overland route instead.

Wound up being a lot further of walk than I remembered. Thursday means Tarot on the Fly, my weekly discussion group. We gathered at Magnolia, had a nice Libra to wait on us, and had hours of conversation concerning reading the cards. I was about to bemoan the loss of the old Austin feeling, being replaced by the dot com culture, the live music being supplanted by the recorded sounds of technopop, the old flair which seemed to be missing, when I spied my dinner special.

Rejoice, Austin ain’t dead yet. Last night, and I had this for real, the dinner special at Magnolia was “Chicken Fried Tofu.” Really. Tastes just like chicken. Or rattlesnake.

(started here)

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