Kingsville,

Texas. Too small to be on this map (pop., 25k) but if you can find

Corpus Christi (Body of Christ!) down in the south on the gulf,

then just imagine a burg about 40 miles southwest, and flatter than a

griddlecake, peppered with mesquite trees.

We are here to celebrate Paul Sr.'s 80th birthday.

(Paul Sr. is here because 41 years ago he accepted a job as head

librarian at Texas A & M. ) I noticed upon entering town this morning

that the Terrorist Risk in Kingsville today is Yellow. (Just thought

I'd let you know.) The big claim to fame here is the King Ranch, which

encompasses more square miles than the state of Rhode Island. 

Once known as the Wild Horse Desert, Kingsville, founded in 1904,

lies in the middle of land once part of the Rincon De Santa Gertrudis

Spanish Land Grant. Captain Richard King was a steamboat captain

who became enamored of this landscape when traveling by horseback

from Brownsville to Corpus Christi. He set up camp on the Santa

Gertrudis Creek, therefore establishing a base for one of the most

celebrated legacies in international ranching. We must not forget

his wife Henrietta, who donated land for the town site,

and who was instrumental in luring the St. Louis and

Brownsville Railroads, connecting Kingsville to the larger universe.

Miss Henrietta also decreed that Kingsville be dry, owing to

Richard's excessive guzzling of fine likker. 

This law persisted into the 1970's.

Besides the university, Kingsville is home to a Naval Air Station.

That aside, Paul assures me that there is not one fine-dining

establishment between here and Corpus Christi. We lunched

at Young's Pizza, home of P.'s first job. They serve some kick-ass

sandwiches -- mine was coppacola, provolone, pepperoncini

with a light horseradish mayo, served hot. A perfect combination

of flavors. Iced tea in pint glasses, graffiti over EVERYTHING inside

save the table tops, which the management requests be left clean.

The local grocery store is the H.E.B. and not a soul pronounces it "heb."

I've been referring to it as Heb-Mart, to P.'s dismay. Speaking of marts,

when odious Wal-Mart moved in some years back, it essentially

shuttered the old downtown. There are a few holdouts, including

a drugstore which houses a 1950's-era lunch counter in the back.

And of course, a visit to Kingsville wouldn't be complete

without a visit to the King Ranch Store, which sells dinner napkins,

handbags, silver bracelets, boots, porcelain, scarves, belt buckles, skirts,

placemats, saddles, sofas,  a sedan chair(!), carved-horn business 

card holders, and chaps: all emblazoned with the Running W brand. 

As far as I'm concerned this store contains just about every 

Texas cliche imaginable, plus some really cool stuff 

one would most likely not find anywhere else on the planet.