I’ve spent much of the past week in Houston.
Loyal Scaiaholics will recall I’ve spent quite a bit of time over the past week and a half covering protests over the death of George Floyd.
I was in Houston for his funeral. While we spend time arguing with each other on Facebook, Floyd may wind up leaving an unintentional legacy of bipartisanship.
Today I spent time with the #GeorgeFloyd family.
They are wonderful, God loving people.
They will be the centerpiece of helping America bridge our racial divide & ensure equality, justice & fairness for everyone in America—& ensure what happened in Minn. never happens in TX. pic.twitter.com/DKdbjZOCWh
— Greg Abbott (@GregAbbott_TX) June 8, 2020
America was founded on the promise of equality, liberty, and justice for all. We’ve never fully lived up to that promise — and we can’t rest until we finally do.
— Joe Biden (@JoeBiden) June 10, 2020
I covered rallies. I covered the funeral itself.
Floyd’s death has struck a chord. Thousands of people were lining the streets of the procession to see the horse-drawn carriage taking him to be buried next to his mom.
#GeorgeFloyd was moved to a horse drawn carriage for the last mile of the funeral procession. He’ll be buried next to his mother in Pearland. pic.twitter.com/xtQqSuvee2
— Alan Scaia (@scaia) June 9, 2020
Loyal Scaiaholics will also recall my complicated history with Houston.
In fact, the gentleman I was talking to on the phone from the blog above was covering the funeral, too. We made plans for dinner with a couple friends I worked with in Houston, lo, 12 years ago.
“To Los Cucos!” I exclaimed, figuring that would end the matter.
“Los Cucos is closed,” one associate said, backing a safe distance away [My disdain for things changing means my associates were social distancing from me years before it was cool]. “It’s a sushi joint, now.”
“So you’re telling me,” I answered, though no one asked. “Los Cucos survived Hurricane Ike, when I knelt before Bill Clinton, and Hurricane Harvey, when I was fired because the hurricane I was assigned to drive into caused water damage to a seven year old car that had recently failed its inspection. But it couldn’t survive… wait, they served dollar margaritas every Tuesday. They probably survived longer than I might have expected.”
“But I do not care for things changing,” I continued, muttering to myself.
Instead, we went to the House of Pies, where I, ironically, did not order a slice of pie.
On the drive home, I stopped at Wendy’s and a sign for their breakfast menu caught my eye. I nearly became incensed about something else changing but then felt strangely reassured.
“I’m pretty sure they’ve tried breakfast before,” I thought to myself. “Also, putting an egg and sausage patty on a Baconator and just shoving a cup of coffee into the picture is strangely reassuring, like the first day of Daylight Saving Time when it feels different, but only because the sun stays out slightly later.”
This is changing things without really changing them. This is changing things with an eye toward the familiar. Kudos to you, Dave Thomas, for changing things like OHIOANS like things changed: not much!
Also, even though I spent the week interacting with police along the funeral procession route, parking near the church and outside the demonstrations, no one seemed to notice the news car hasn’t, technically, had a current registration in about six months.
It’s POSSIBLE they had bigger fish to fry and may not have noticed. Which is good because I didn’t want to have to bring Al Sharpton to march on the DMV.
Luckily, they’re closed right now.
When they reopen, though, I feel like some of the gospel music they played at Floyd’s funeral would really perk up the mood at the county DMV offices.
Fines for expired registration would go way down! Tell me you wouldn’t show up early to get your registration renewed if you knew you could expect a choir with robes and what not yellin’ at you [testifyin’] to, I swear I’m not making this up, comfort someone next to you, even though we’re in a pandemic.
Really, isn’t the DMV also a strange land, where we need to know God will take care of us most of all?
