Gleeful as a Little Boy

Charlie waved goodbye this morning like a little kid leaving for summer camp, as he began his road trip to a family reunion in Arkansas.

He was excited, anxious, and wired with gourmet coffee–courtesy of my cousin Joyce. As he sheepishly walked to the car, looking back at me, he was torn between the comfortable assurance of me by his side and the adventure of taking the trip on his own.

We drove up to Ft. Worth together yesterday and stayed with Cousin Wayne and Joyce. (Great dinner last night, by the way. Stuffed hamburgers. Delicious. Catatonic euphoria ensued. I snored on the couch the rest of the evening.)

This morning I had a meeting and will take the train back to Austin this afternoon. Charlie is heading the opposite direction in the family car. Loaded down with cokes and sandwich meat in the Silly Bunny Pictures ice chest, he promises me he’s forgotten nothing.

Charlie is probably the only man I know older than me, who is really still just a kid. Makes me wish I wasn’t such an adult all the time.  What a drag.


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