Dateline: San Antonio

The thought of the day is not original. I last had it in March, in Seattle. An un-jaded traveler, I'm still charmed by the notion that first I'm here, and now I'm there. Breakfast at home, lunch at the airport--sometimes, it happens--and a barbecue dinner I'll probably dream of tonight in the Texas hills. Airplanes are magic that way, except, of course, for the strip searches and disgruntled sky waitresses. Already so much to remember, from not accidentally withdrawing $3000 to spotting the illuminated Alamo to wandering into a piano bar once our margarita quest was thwarted (at 11 p.m. on a Friday? what gives?) and having it turn out to be fun despite the John Denver. And did I mention those ribs? Tomorrow, probably the tornadoes won't even materialize. And if they do, well, we'll have a story. But the next day, there better be sun.