Traveled south to Dickinson, Texas yesterday for a library sale. Library sale proved to be a bust, hundreds of romances and bodice rippers and not much else. We've a friend, compliments of the Betsy Tacy list who lives there so we meet up afterwards for lunch.
She took us out into the back country to the hamlet (it's not big enough to be a town or village) of San Leon. San Leon, located on Galveston Bay was supposed to a summer retreat for Houstonians in the those days pre air conditioning. The area is sans beaches so it never quite caught on and now it's home to shrimp boats and folks who make a living in ways that don't bear looking into very closely.
It does have a couple of marinas and dockside restaurants. We ended up at The Topwater Grill, which was right out of a Jimmy Buffet song.
Normally the place is pretty quiet, since it wasn't quite lunch time but not this morning. We'd wandered into the annual TOPPS Poker Run.
Never did quite figure out what TOPPS stood for, but it had something to do with Texas and Power Boats. No sedate cabin cruisers these, these were the sort of powerboats that used to go zipping across the screen in the opening credits of Miami Vice. The boats are designed for 2 purposes only - to go very fast and to make as much noise as possible. They are the Hummers of the sea. And there were 65 of them.
The owners were men in their 50s and 60s, deepwater tans, expensive casual clothes, with an air of success and money and being in charge in a blustery sort of way.
A few had their original wives, but most had shed them for a newer model. Behold, the Texas Trophy Wife, complete with $200 streaks and foils, spray on tan, tucked tummies and breast implants. Tight little halter tops barely contained all the artificial mammary glands. They spilled out the edges and almost burst out the top - and occasionally crept out from underneath. They sported dangling earrings and the most amazing collection of hats. Leopard print cowboy hats, zebra print cowboy hats and an especialy fectching hot pink and black stripped number. It was obvious that trophy wives, send their time, when they aren't recovering from their nips and tucks shopping. Shopping with a capital S and multiple credit cards.
They all milled about,drinking tall drinks and talking loudly. Then at the secret signal they all leapt into their boats and roared away, heading for Freeport. Complete with helicopter escort.
The food was divine and the people watching and conversation excellent. A most enjoyable summer afternoon.