This past weekend as I stepped out onto my back patio, the "party house" in the neighborhood was in full swing again, but now they have a karaoke machine, apparently, and one of the young fellows was engaging the entire neighborhood in his clever rap stylings of "Mother F*&#er! Yo B*@#ch!". The next night, Rap Master's parents apparently had a party and this time the entire neighborhood was treated to an entire Cheap Trick album followed up by Rush? Or was it REO Speedwagon? As I worked in my garden I wondered how it is I moved to quiet Dripping Springs and was now subjected to ruder, more offensive neighbors than I ever had in any city I've ever lived in. About that time (to the background music of Styx, I believe) a mom and her young Cub Scout son rode their bikes up my gravel drive. The Cub Scout, Destry, was selling popcorn as a fundraiser and would I be interested in buying any. As Destry's mom gently guided him through the transaction with such obvious love and care, the noise of Rap Master and the Stuck in the 80s (70s?) Rock Gang faded. As Destry and his mom started to leave, Destry turned and said, quite proudly and politely, "I'm now 10% of the way to my goal." Good for you, Destry. And even better for you Destry's mom. As they mounted their bikes and rode off into the sunset, I remembered why I still love Dripping Springs.
Note: If anyone wants to help Destry meet his goal (and/or needs some popcorn), drop us a line at Drip Tips. His mom's email is on the receipt Destry kindly presented to me and we'll pass it along.