TRAVEL HERE:  SECRET SERVICE MIGHT BE A BETTER NAME FOR ROCKWALL’S NEW RESTAURANT

If you lived in the Rockwall area and I told you a new restaurant was located behind the Sonic on Ridge Way, you’d have a clue about where to look, but unless you actually went behind the Sonic, you’d never find Standard Service.  The restaurant fills a space on the back side of a crossfit gym.  The only signage is on the front of the restaurant and can’t be seen from any of the nearby streets.  You’d never see it if you turned next to the Sonic and headed to Lowe’s, which is the destination of most of the traffic.

My Secret Agent 

Loree Posard Kiethly does my hair and she’s my primary source of info about what’s happening in Rockwall.  I have no idea who all sits in her chair, but they have the inside scoop on all kinds of things, from what restaurants will open soon to where the local swingers rendezvous.

“Have you been to Standard Service?”  I thought she’d found a new garage or service station, but come to find out it was a new restaurant.  Then she told me its location – near a corner I pass pretty much every time I come or go to my house.  I didn’t want to accuse my friend of lying, but it sure didn’t sound like a good spot for a restaurant and I certainly hadn’t seen it.

The gist of her information was that a restaurateur opened Standard Service as test, because he was considering building near The Harbor.  As soon as he opened the awkward test location, he instantaneously had a loyal following, so the lake-view restaurant is a go.  Obviously, a trip to Standard Service was required.

The Standard on a Sunday Afternoon

Our visit to Standard Service was on a Sunday afternoon in May.  Perhaps the traffic was slow because of May’s many distractions, like moms and grads and brides.  We also arrived mid-afternoon, rather than at a meal time.  Most of the patrons were at the bar gazing into the multiple tv’s spread around the restaurant.

Bill and I walked away from the experience with two totally different impressions.  He loved the place.  The tall shelves full of wine and liquor were fascinating to him.  He thought it had a good vibe for a local place and a good number of patrons for a Sunday afternoon.  He didn’t particularly like what he ordered, but said he’d come back and try something else.  He couldn’t wait to get home and tell a friend who’s opening a liquor store about the tall shelves.

That wasn’t me.  To me the layout was confusing.  We entered a foyer that seemed like a dead end.  Once we got our bearings we saw double glass doors to the right.  There seemed to be two bars, one on each side.  The primary bar is to the right and then another smaller one is on the left.  There aren’t many tables.  The look is industrial, complete with the exposed air conditioning ducts – not one of my favorites.

The service is good enough to put a lie to the name of the restaurant, but I wasn’t crazy about the food.  It wasn’t bad.  The small burger had an unnecessarily greasy bun in my estimation, but it did have a reasonable price.  The sweet potato fries were the food hit of the day.

Much of the things I don’t like about Standard Service have to do with my personal taste, so that should be taken into consideration.  The industrial look of it, the televisions all over the place, the paper service items – these might be the very reason you would visit, but they don’t beg me to come back.

So, should you go visit Standard Service?  If you live out here in Rockwall County – I’d say, for sure.  If you’re out here anyway, you might as well, because while our restaurant selections have been improving since I got here a few years ago, this is about as good as it gets.  No reason to drive over from Dallas until the new place by the lake gets built.

Come on back Wednesday, for tales about the Fairmount in Heliopolis, Egypt and then next week I’ll share another Dallas area adventure.

TRAVEL HERE: WATTER’S CREEK AND THE ALLEN OUTLET MALL

Having safely escaped the Lavender Festival, Deb and I pursued a couple of our favorite pastimes, holiday or no holiday – dining and shopping.  Come along with us.

It Shouldn’t Have Been a Secret

I’d been keeping a secret from my bestie and didn’t even realize it.  Watter’s Creek is a favorite haunt of my husband’s.   The whole multi-purpose development is built around a charming open space.  A grassy hill slopes down to a creek.  Water fowl wander among gleeful children.  A sampling of beautiful people hang out on the patios of a handful of restaurants surrounding the park.  It’s a relaxing oasis from the hustle and bustle, with just enough hustle and bustle of its own to be entertaining.  Many a Sunday afternoon Bill and I make our way to Watter’s Creek for an early supper.  A quick perusal the pictures in my Facebook feed could verify that I’ve made several attempts to notify the world of this pleasant place to hang out.

There’s another reason I didn’t realize Deb was unaware of the charm of Watter’s Creek.  Countless times we’ve shopped the Allen Outlet Mall and then gone to Watter’s Creek and had lunch at Brio, usually on the patio.  I can’t begin to count the number of times Deb and I have lingered on that patio solving the world’s problems and venting over some of our more irritating challenges.  I could have sworn that at least one of those meals ended at DSW, checking out the clearance racks, but I guess not.

As we discussed where to have lunch, we tipped our hat to Brio, but Deb was in the mood for adventure.  When I told her there were other great restaurants in the same complex she gave me an accusing look.  I’d been holding out on her!  She thought the whole thing was an apartment complex with Brio and a Cheesecake Factory stuck next to the highway.  She navigated her car to Watter’s Creek and I directed her around the side of our usual hangout and into the main shopping area.  She immediately loved it.  We parked in one of the garages and headed to a restaurant I had mentioned.

As we strolled, I realized the restaurant ratio at Watter’s Creek was rising.  Bill and I had peeked in the window of the Village Burger Bar, but had never even seen Firewater Kitchen and Bar at the end of the row.  Deb and I turned a corner headed to what I thought was Savor, a tasting restaurant Bill and I had enjoyed on one of our visits – but Savor had become The Cellar.  It looked more barish than foodish, so I recommended we head around the corner to Bonnie Ruth’s Cafe.

A New Favorite is Found

At Bonnie Ruth we opted for the patio and almost immediately declared it our new favorite.  One of the reasons Deb and I are such fast friends is that we love the same things and one of the things we really love is al fresco dining.  If food is good inside a restaurant, it’s our opinion that it’s even better on the patio.  Hubby will join me al fresco – if the weather is perfect, the sun is at the right angle and he’s in the mood.  For Deb and I, there either has to be a snowstorm or pounding rain to deter us from choosing the patio.  Otherwise we’ll at least try to convince the hostess to let us sit out there.

I’m glad to finally have someone who loves Bonnie Ruth the way I do. I’ve tried to indoctrinate Bill, but he’s resisted me.  We’d visited the Frisco location several times and it just didn’t click with him.  I’ve suggested it several times at Watter’s Creek, but he’s always more interested in the restaurants that border on the park, so he can watch the beautiful people and the ducks.  So I sigh and follow him to another choice.

I even tried to get Mom to enjoy Bonnie Ruth’s back when we spent our Thursdays together.  As most of you know, she now spends all her days on a higher plane, but I still keep a catalog of restaurants to try out on her.  See, Mom loved to eat out, but had you been her chauffeur, as I was for many years, you wouldn’t think so.

Finding Restaurants for Ruth

Mom was perpetually on the look out for the perfect cafe.  It needed to have sandwiches, soups and salads – and there were extra points for quiche.  She didn’t want to stand in line to order.  They should have tablecloths and eschew serving food in paper or plastic.  Servers should be attentive and the price had to be right.  That’s a pretty tall order.

Most sandwich and soup places, like La Madeline, Panera and Corner Bakery, start with a line, have bare table tops and the service never adds up.  Then for some reason none of my other favorites, like Bonnie Ruth’s or Lavendou’s, passed her test.  Lunch time would roll around and I would start listing every spot I could think of, but she’d keep that I-don’t-think-so look on her face until I thought I’d expire from exasperation.  Then she’d happily settle for Cantina Laredo, Chili’s or some other place that didn’t match any of the criteria she’d spelled out for the perfect cafe.  She didn’t do al fresco at all.  I loved her, but not for the same reasons I love Deb!

Back to Bonnie Ruth’s Patio

So there I sat on a lovely patio drinking a glass of wine with my bestie.  Heaven – short and simple.  The food was good.  I had a sandwich with poached pear and cheese on delicious bread.  Deb thought she was ordering a Chicken Pecan Salad sandwich, but she ended up with just the salad.  Both were delicious, but the poached pear number won the day.  I’d tell you the name of it, but it’s not on the menu on their website.  We topped it off with some insane chocolate cake drenched in praline sauce.  No calories there, right?

After dessert we hit a few stores.  One was DSW where I got four delightful pairs of shoes for about $60.  In case math is not your strong point, that’s an average of $15 each.  Bestie paid more than my total for one pair of shoes to work out in.  No wonder I don’t like to exercise.  Who wouldn’t rather have four pairs of shoes over one pair of sneakers!

Then we went on to our shopping mecca – Allen Outlet Mall.  Warning, there is all kinds of construction going on there, so your visit will be painful, but your pocketbook will be happy.  My two favorite stores are Cabi and White House/Black Market – and they didn’t disappoint this time either!  WH/BM offered up a pair of leather and suede jeans -originally $450 – that I got for $19.99.  There were a couple of pairs of leggings (suede fronts, stretch backs) that were originally $350 each – yep I got them for $19.99.  A pair of black capri’s and a black divided skirt wanted to come home with me for similar prices.  Cabi was having a 50% off sale that included clearance, so I dropped a few dimes there, too.  How can I resist buying size six trousers?

So, I went a little long today, but it was a fun day.  See you next week!

TRAVEL HERE: THE METROPLEX AND POINTS BEYOND

Memorial Day Weekend is the official beginning of summer and I kicked off my summer with a vengeance.  I abandoned my computer and headed into the streets for some fun.  Come along with me.

Why Not Start Early!

My little sister, Susan, was having a birthday on the Friday before Memorial Day.  There are five years between us and we are very different, so our lives don’t naturally intersect.  However, that’s no reason to miss out on an opportunity to celebrate.  My mother turned every event into a celebration and while Christmas got top billing, birthdays played an important supporting role throughout the year, with cameo appearances by every other event to which she could attach a gift or meal.

Mom loved the Dallas Arboretum, almost as much as she loved creating celebrations, so it was only natural for Susan and I to make a visit there for her birthday lunch.  It was a perfect picture of what draws us together and how different we are.  We both wanted to make the visit.  We both ordered the salad trio with a glass of Pinot Grigio and we shared a piece of chocolate cake.  However, while Susan was happy to sit inside and benefit from the a/c, I was longingly gazing out towards the patio, wishing I was out there.   I would have also loved to spend a couple of hours wandering the gardens, but walking in the heat was not high on Susan’s list, especially when she was limping from a recent tumble.  So we stopped in at the gift shop and headed towards other adventures.

Susan’s hard to fit, so I dare not buy her any clothes without her being there.  To to find her birthday present, I took her to the Galleria and checked out the petite departments at Belk’s and Talbot’s.  A new handbag, a pair of shorts and two tops later, she was a happy birthday girl.

Lavender Ridge Farms

My bestie usually has dance lessons on Saturdays, so I have to find other ways to entertain myself.  However, her dance teachers (Yes, she has two and a personal trainer.  She’s very serious about it.) were out of town, so we were able to plan a play date.  Some of her office buddies were going to a Lavender Festival in Gainesville and I was invited along.  We were on the road shortly after 8 and made it to the festival by 9:30.  Good thing, because there was already a crowd.

Quaint is the word I would use for this festival.  While it was the event’s ninth year and wildly popular, it was overly quaint for me.  I think I would have loved visiting on a Saturday afternoon sans the festival, but the festival sort of gummed up the works in a higgledy piggledy sort of way.

The event was enriched by antiques, artisans and wine tastings, but the various booths seemed to have been set up without any discernible pattern.  Regular readers know I’m a little on the OCD side (OK a lot) but trying to figure out an orderly way to visit all the booths was beyond my keen.   There was a lavender garden, but forget pictures of Provence with lavender in bloom.  Deb admitted the lavender plant in her yard had a more spectacular look to it than the whole Lavender Ridge garden.

There was a gift shop, but it was so overwhelmed by festival goers you had to wait in line to enter and once in you saw the store by waiting in the line that snaked around between the displays.  There was a cafe, also overwhelmed by patrons.  The only place we found that wasn’t overwhelmed was a small zoo, but I can’t tell you what animals they had, because there were no signs.

By 10:30 AM we were festivaled out and weren’t quite ready for wine tasting, which was supposed to be the next stop on the tour.  We opted for the Half-Off Sale at the Cabi Outlet in Allen.  That’s when the higgledy piggledy really kicked in.  Deb dropped me off at the potty stop on the way in, so I hadn’t seen the parking lot.  Random is the only way I can describe their parking system.  They could have doubled their capacity (and this is about to become important) if they’d just been a little more organized in the way they parked cars.  As we picked our way through the resulting maze of higgledy piggledy cars, I realized there was a huge petting farm with sheep, goats and chickens that we had missed completely, because it was on the other side of the parking lot from everything else.

I’m telling you, visit this place any time except their festival.  We made our way out of the property and headed back to Dallas. Two roads fed into the entrance and there were cars lined up as far as we could see in both directions.  I can’t tell you how far back one of the lines went, but we had to drive past the other on our return and it was at least two miles long and more cars were arriving.  I’m thinking some of those people sat in line for hours and who knows if they ever made it to the entrance.

Come back next week and have more fun with us girls.

TRAVEL HERE: DRESSES, PRINTS,  MODERN MEXICANS & MORE

Doubling down seems to be the latest thing at the DMA.   A few months ago the DMA  invited me to an event featuring Divine Cats and Cocktail accouterments.  We enjoyed the cats and cocktails, but it did seem an incongruous pairing.  You can still visit the cocktail exhibit and I recommend you do, but the cats have escaped.

Fashion and Fighters

If cats and cocktails seem like a weird combo, then you’re not going to believe this one. Couture and combat!  That’s what the latest invitation from the DMA featured.

Yes, that beheaded-swan-looking-thing is one fashion designers idea of a dress – and there’s more where that came from.  I’m excited when the DMA does fashion, which is one of their recurring themes, but Iris van Herpen’s fashions, while fascinating, don’t make me want to go out and buy one of her dresses.  I’m always interested when fashion is artful, but in my humble opinion, if fashion is so preoccupied with being artsy that I can’t imagine wearing it, then perhaps it isn’t fashion after all.

One of my all time favorite shows at the DMA was Jean Paul Gaultier: From the Sidewalk to the Catwalk.  I can’t say that I would wear every item in every gallery of the exhibition, but there were enough of them that I wanted to rip off the mannequins to keep me awestruck.  I’d say Ms. Herpen’s dresses had me awestruck, but not because I could imagine wearing them.  As I tried to describe the fashions to a friend, all I could think of was the fanciful creations for The Hunger Games and apparently I wasn’t too far off.

Entry to the museum and the exhibit are free, so I do suggest you go see what I mean, especially if you liked some of the Katniss costumes.   (Or Lady Gaga’s more outrageous stuff.  I discovered Iris had a hand in those, too.)

How About Some Etchings?

Back in pre-history (as in when I was growing up), ‘going to see someone’s etchings’ was a euphemistic way to suggest hanky-panky.   No one every told me that.  I just picked it up from context clues and wiggly eyebrows.  Prints of all sorts have been an inexpensive way for the average joe to collect art and guys have been using art to seduce women for a long time – probably dates back to cave drawings!

While I love art, I’m always quick to admit that I love some of it more than I love other things.  Prints are one of the other things.  Lithographs, etchings, intaglio, aquatints – the list of print types is long.  While I could probably write a pretty good essay on the subject (good enough for an art appreciation exam) I’d be hard-pressed to drum up much emotion. for the art form.

The current prints on exhibition at the DMA are from the National Gallery of Art.  There’s about 150 of them spanning three centuries.  While you’re there gaping at what Iris van Herpen calls fashion, you might as well drop into the print exhibit, too.

Mexican Avant-Garde Artists

I’m loathe to admit this, but I haven’t been to this exhibit, yet.  On the evening of the exhibit opening, we had other plans, so I turned my invitation over to a friend.  She and her hubby loved it, but the only time I’ve been back since was for the party last week and the Avant-Garde was unavailable.  So, I’ve still got to go and I only have until the middle of June to do so.  If like me you haven’t made it yet, hurry up.  You don’t want to miss Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo.

There’s always plenty to see at the DMA, even when you aren’t particularly interested in the current exhibit.  Entry to the museum is always free, but you might have to pay for some of the big shows, like the Mexican Avant-Gardes.  They’ve got some new food venues you should check out and across the street is Klyde Warren Park, a place we love.  Also near-by is the Nasher Sculpture Center and the Crow Collection of Asian Art.  Oh, and just around the corner is the Perot Museum and across the bridge, the delightful food experience of Trinity Grove.  So get out there and get some culture in your summer.

TRAVEL HERE: ARTFUL DELIGHTS AT THE DMA

So I’ve been in the process of catching up on my adventures.  We’ve been to Gruene TX for a girl’s road trip, Birmingham AL for business and Fort Worth for Monet.  All this leaves me with yet another confession.  If you missed the Devine Felines at the DMA, mea culpa.  If you miss Mexico 1900-1950, then that’s going to be your fault.

A Busy Autumn Break

My autumn disappeared in a haze of responsibility.  Global Heart Ministries had a tea, a video shoot and a fundraiser.  I also went on that trip I haven’t been able to tell you about.  So they kept me pretty busy.  I sort of disappeared out of my life until the October 22 fundraiser happened.  After all that, I was just about ready for a life and I took on a project that I could do completely at home.  I needed a break.

That’s when the invitation to the opening of the Art and Nature exhibition came along.    Bill and I put the event on our calendar and zipped downtown to take a gander.  We spent a perfectly lovely evening at the museum.  The art focused on the Middle Ages and as such pretty much everything in the exhibit was related to the Catholic faith.  There were reliquaries, crosiers , crucifixes, stained glass, etc. etc. etc.  The workmanship was exquisite and we thoroughly loved the whole thing.

Perhaps our favorite thing was the Scavenger Hunt.  Yep – a scavenger hunt.  Now many museums and such offer scavenger hunts, but they are usually for kids and they’re offered in black and white on a piece of copy paper.  Nope, that wasn’t it at all.  Instead on beautiful slick paper in the richest colors possible, we were challenged to identify 14 various images, each of which were only a small part of a larger work.  Not only was it a lot of fun, but it inspired us to take a long, deep look at things we might have just glanced at and then walked away.

After the Scavenger Hunt we checked out the offerings at the refreshment table, but didn’t see much to our liking, so we headed home.  Here’s the good news.  It will be at the museum until the 19th of this month, so please hurry in to see it.

A Pleasant Sunday

But the exhibit about the Middle Ages wasn’t all that was happening at the DMA, so we made another visit.  Confession!  I know it had to happen after the opening of Art & Nature, but if I was forced to testify as to when, I would be in trouble.  We walked back through Art & Nature and then strolled down to Shaken| Stirred |Styled.  This is a small exhibition in a side gallery that would be easy to miss, so if you go between now and November 12th, please be sure to ask someone where it is.

The entire exhibit is a collection of bar ware from the 19th century and it’s cool – really cool.  There are punch bowls and martini glasses, but perhaps the most fun is cocktail shakers from the Prohibition Era.  

We also took a look at Divine Felines, which is now closed.  The collection of Egyptian cat mummies and other feline related items was interesting, but not compelling to us, so I don’t feel quite so bad about allowing you to miss it.

Since our goal was to kill the afternoon, we also strolled through the South American and American galleries, enjoying old favorites.  Since this is where Bill and I met, all the art seems like friends of the family.  Truly a wonderful way to spend an afternoon in Dallas.

Don’t Miss Mexico

One final note before I go.  A new exhibition just started at the museum, Mexico 1900-1950: Diego Rivera, Frida Kahlo, Jose Clemente Orozco and the Avant-Garde.  I am really sorry to report that once again Global Heart Ministries has interfered with my love of art.  Last week I had to miss the exhibition’s opening party to help with the video shoot we were filming.  I love GHM, but it’s tough when I have to make decisions like that.  The good thing is that the exhibit just opened and it will be here through July.  Even with my crazy schedule I should be able to make it.

TRAVEL HERE: DID YOU MISS IT?
Seems like I’m doing a lot of apologizing of late and here I go again!  There’s been a wonderful exhibition on the young Monet at the Kimbell in Fort Worth and even though I’ve been several times, I didn’t tell you about it.  By way of atonement I’ll warn you that another Impressionist and European Masters show is on its way in May.  In the meantime, I’ll fill you in on what you missed, if you did, in fact, miss it.

Early Monet

Monet is a known entity for most of us.  He’s that Impressionist guy who did all the water lily paintings.  Over the years, the Kimbell has offered several very good Monet exhibitions, so those of us in the DFW Metroplex have had a better than average chance to get to know him.  One of the reasons is a large beach scene in shades of gray and brown – more Van Gogh than Monet when you first look at it.  This shoreline landscape was the first piece Monet showed in a Beaux Art Salon and the Kimbell owns it.  That’s how it gets all the good exhibitions.  Want to borrow my Monet?  Include me in the exhibition schedule! 

Thanks to them (and lots of study on my own) I knew Impressionism was something Monet grew into.  He started out as a fine landscape painter in the traditional sense, but grew into less exacting ways of capturing a scene.  Most of us know another reason for his style is related to his vision.  As he grew older his eyesight got worse and he painted what he saw.  That’s the reason some paintings of Venice ,from late in his life, look almost as if he abandoned representational painting altogether.

I had all this floating around in my mind, but this latest exhibit fleshed out what I had learned.  The exhibition took him from a very traditional landscape painted in his teens, through his first Salon painting and on to the height of Impressionism.

You may be wondering why I don’t just quit jabbering a go ahead and show you some art.  Fine!

The most delicious painting I can’t show you, because they didn’t have a postcard.  It was a scrumptious snow scene, which at first glance seemed to be all white, but then the more you looked at it, the more color you could see.  Then there were all the bittersweet paintings showing the rift, his art and significant other caused, between him and his family of origin.  Oh, and the luscious picture of the melon with the blue and white china…. Well you get the idea!

Double Dipping

One of the reasons I feel so bad about leaving you out of the loop is that it’s not like I went during one of the last weeks and just missed by a few days.  I first went a few weeks after it opened with my bestie.  I made a day of it for her birthday.  That’s when I picked up all these postcards with the best of intentions and snapped this gorgeous shot at the entrance to Joe T’s wonderful Fiesta Garden.  Of course, we went to Joe T’s.

My second visit was with the Buffalo Gals.  In case you didn’t know, that’s the Bible Study group we have here in my neighborhood.  We’re on our fifth Beth Moore Bible Study together and we always take a play date to celebrate our friendship somewhere along the way.  Here’s a few shots of that expedition!  Come back next week, because I have to catch you up on what’s been happening at the DMA, too.

TRAVEL HERE: TRUTH UNDER SIEGE

Today is not my usual day to blog and I’m actually supposed to be writing a newsletter for my favorite ministry, but I just had to say something.  I’m a writer, so words matter to me.  If you are an American, Liberty should matter to you.

The Outrageous Nature of Outrage

Steve Martin was recently smacked down in the Twitter world for a nostalgic tribute to Carrie Fisher.  Some troll came along and chose to be outraged at his perfectly lovely sentiment.  He wasn’t writing a biography, just sharing an impression.  I’m thinking Ms. Fisher would have been flattered to be remembered so fondly by such a giant in the industry.

Nothing Steve Martin said could in any way tarnish the memory of Carrie Fisher, but for the benefit of their own sense of outrage, someone has forever added an asterisk to Steve Martin’s thoughts about an actress he admired – and a bunch of other trolls piled on.  I doubt Mr. Martin has a lot of time to fret over it, as he moves gracefully from success to success; but he is human and for awhile, when anyone mentions Carrie Fisher, he’ll remember the spiteful words.  So will we.

The Facts Are Often Unrelated to the Truth

I giggled at much of the fact-checking during the most recent political process.  Whether something could be counted as fact depended solely on what flavor of spin you preferred.  My favorite sound bite from the whole campaign suggested we should take the President-Elect seriously rather than literally.  To build on that suggestion, I believe we should all work at considering the words of others with an ear to understand, rather than a heart to criticize.  Would it kill folks to give others the benefit of the doubt, instead of seizing upon every opportunity to be offended, outraged or otherwise negatively impacted?

I heard recently of a college professor who was fired, because of our growing predilection for being negatively impacted by the words of others.  In trying to illustrate a point, he used his own opinion about abortion as an example. He recognized it was lawful, but he was personally opposed to it.  A student immediately went to some college official and claimed the statement had caused her to “not feel safe” in the classroom.  I cannot express strongly enough my disdain for that student’s actions, but I am even more horrified at the institution for their response to her tattling.

The Ethereal Nature of Feelings 

Where is someone supposed to go this day and time, if they want to learn to think rationally and logically, if not a college classroom?  There’s no way to impart every morsel of information a person will ever  need into a four-year degree plan.  In the best of cases, a student can only be taught to research a subject and evaluate the information available.  This is, in and of itself, a valuable gift!  If instead, all students want is a piece of paper to list on their resume, without ever having to go through the discomfort of thinking, then why bother.  Let’s just have a store where mommy and daddy can go buy a diploma.  It appears that’s the direction our institutions of higher learning should head, if this is how they are going to operate.

Obviously this student has been taught to measure the words of others by her own feelings and the university is reinforcing that dangerous concept.  You can’t change the truth because it makes you uncomfortable.  The student might feel safer now, but she has cost an honest man his livelihood.  What’s more, feelings often change.  Who knows what will make her or someone else feel “not safe” tomorrow.

Thank You Dr. Kim 

During my first attempt at college I took a political science course under a professor named Dr. Kim.  On the first day  he informed us there was no God and if we were brave enough to discuss that fact, we would be allowed to continue and complete the course.  Half of the class dropped out.  I certainly didn’t agree with Dr. Kim, but I was curious to see how things would go.  BTW, I didn’t feel threatened or unsafe in any way.

The remaining students  fell into three categories:  those who enthusiastically supported Dr. Kim’s assertion, those who vocally opposed it and a smattering of folks like me, who were primarily curious.  Along the way, most of the remaining students who chose to vocally oppose Dr. Kim, eventually dropped of the class, joining those who had not made it to the second day.  The earnestness of an argument was not enough to overcome the brilliance of Dr. Kim’s logic.

I often found myself supporting the arguments of the opposition.  I didn’t agree with their opinion about the existence of  God, because I understood it was a matter of faith, but I could appreciate the logic of what they said.  I also got very good at picking out weaknesses in the arguments of my fellow Believers.   My faith grew, even as God’s very existence was being disproved.  Since a good portion of our grade was based on class participation, I wasn’t allowed to sit in silence.  I had to learn how and when to speak.  It was good training.

By the end of the class there were only a handful of us left.  Dr. Kim finally got around to pointing out what I had suspected all along.  His class was an exercise in learning how to think.  Dr. Kim admitted proving or disproving the existence of  God didn’t affect in any way whether God actually existed or not.  The students clamored to know whether or not Dr. Kim actually believed in God.  His eyes twinkled as he refused to admit his opinion.  I chose to believe he believed in God – maybe more than those of us who admitted we did.

The Erosion of Truth

While I was brave enough to finish Dr. Kim’s class, wise enough to make a good grade and devout enough to leave the class with my faith intact, I was not mature enough to finish my degree plan at that time.  However, I returned to school when I was much older and much wiser.  I was sad to discover many of my new professors had abandoned the practice of teaching us how to think and were more interested in teaching us what to think.  This was not universally so, but there were many who adopted that lesson plan.

The saddest example was a poetry professor.  On the first day of class the professor warned a student they should probably drop the class, if they were taking it to learn to write worship and praise poems.  I was embarrassed for the student, who turned twenty shades of red, but I wanted my piece of paper and I’d already realized if it was going to be the flavor of degree I wanted, then I needed to overlook a few things from my liberal professors.  

The professor’s warning demonstrated her own shortcomings more than she realized.  Besides, as the oldest person in the room, I felt I needed to set a good example of tolerance.  I also thought I might be able to do more good for God in the classroom, than I would by demonstrating my outrage with a drop slip.

I’m happy to admit I learned a lot in the class and it wasn’t the last I took from the professor.  In fact, we sort of became friends. Not lifelong buddies, but more than acquaintances.  She spent a lot of time trying to get me to see myself from her Liberal viewpoint and in turn, I gave her the benefit of my actual life experiences.  There’s a lot of things she didn’t know about religion (the difference in the terms “Jew” and “Hebrew”), the history of the American language (that Afro-American was once a politically-correct term) and that to use racially-coded language, one would first have to be aware of the code (which is apparently a closely held secret of the Left).  Thanks to Dr. Kim’s training, I was able to adequately express my appreciation of her opinions, without offending her with my opinions – as long as I didn’t dare voice them in the classroom.

Long Live Liberty – and May Real Tolerance Win Out

Were I to base what I believed on the popularity of my opinions, I’d be a very different person.  I seem to hold a lot of opinions which differ with popular culture – kind of like Galileo.  In time I may be proven wrong, but so far, no one has proven me wrong enough to change me.  I know, even if they don’t, that my opinion and theirs together are unable to change the truth – no matter what that may be – so I’ll keep looking for Truth.  This wouldn’t seem so risky if political correctness were more of a two-way street, but I seem to be on the wrong side of that particular avenue.

The world has gotten pretty scary.  We seem to have regressed to the days before the legendary King Arthur, where Might proved Right.  If someone disagrees with you, then bomb them, run them over with a truck, shoot them, knife them, stage a protest against them, boycott them…or berate them on social media.  These all seem of the same cloth to me.

A student should feel safe in the classroom, but that assurance should arise from the strength of their own convictions, not because the classroom has been swept clean of any opinion differing with their own.  And Steve Martin should be able to say lovely things about Carrie Fisher without ridicule and abuse. At least, that’s my opinion. 

TRAVEL HERE: WHAT I’M DOING WHEN YOU DON’T SEE ME

Yes, I know.  I dropped off the face of the earth last week – at least as far as this blog is concerned.  What you might not know is that when you don’t see me here, I still have a footprint.

See, I took on a new blogging responsibility and it’s ever so much more exciting than my own stuff that I forget to blog about myself.  Let me tell you about it!

Global Heart Ministries

About a year ago I attended an event at The Hope Center.  I’d been involved in the ministry, in a tangential way, for a couple of years, but at this event I took anoather step.   I handed my card to one of the board members and offered to help if they needed a writer.  It wasn’t long until I heard from them.  Nothing big, just polishing some scripts that had been roughly translated.

I liked them.  They liked me.  From time to time they’d ask me to do other things besides writing and I liked those things, too.  OK, so I was hooked.  I could tell they needed more of my time and attention, even if they couldn’t afford to pay me for it.

So, I suggested I start coming into the office from 10-2 several days a week and they took me up on it.  That lasted about 2 seconds.  Anytime I show up, I can never leave at 2 and often find myself there long after 5 has passed.  And there are weekends and early morning texts and…well, I just got back from a three day conference.  You see where this is going.

The Other Place I Blog

One of the first orders of business when I joined Global Heart Ministries was to start blogging.  If you like this blog you might like that one (http://globalheartministries.wordpress.com).  I blog about Dallas events such as the Open Heart Tea and A Night of Dreams.  I also blog about faraway places such as Azerbaijan and Uzbekistan.  I even blog about TV personalities like Narmin Backus and Tarana Lindsey. Haven’t heard of them?  That’s because you don’t live in Azerbaijan.  Over there, they’re as famous as Oprah!

The truth is, I reach a lot more folks over there than I do from here.  While I reach about 2400 people on social media with this blog, over 4500 folks saw one of my recent posts for GHM. But not to worry.  While I might get busy over there and miss a post or two over there, I will never be gone very long from Travel Talk.  It is my first love.

Esther’s Friends

I wear another hat over at Global Heart Ministries.  I’m the Volunteer Coordinator.  We’ve just launched an exciting organization for women called Esther’s Friends.  If you’re looking for a place to matter where you can do things to further the Gospel in places like Central Asia and the Middle East, then I’ve got just the thing for you.

Join the Journey

I’d love to share all the excitement with you.  Follow the blog, be our friend on Facebook or love us on Instagram.  You’ll enjoy it.  I promise!

TRAVEL HERE: MY NEW GO-TO ITALIAN PLACE

On a Sunday afternoon, after a museum visit, Bill and I spent about forty-five minutes driving around downtown Dallas.  We thought maybe in one of those places we used to hang out we’d find something new and exciting, but mostly we found construction sites for more multi-use developments.  It was far too hot to enjoy anything al fresco, but we were out of options for new and exciting, so we made our way to Trinity Groves.

Giving It Another Try

Bill and I have tried to have fun at Trinity Groves several times and have always been under-impressed, even though we see huge potential for the area it’s just not hopping 24/7 like we think it should be.  Perhaps on Friday or Saturday evening it fulfills it potential, but that’s when we’re usually in Heath enjoying a glass of wine on our patio.  There’s something about a great view out your back door that discourages fighting for parking spaces and tables on weekend evenings.  Still, we like being plugged into our city, so we venture out on Sundays and various weekdays.

On this particular Sunday afternoon it appeared we’d bombed out again.  Granted 5:30 is a little early for dinner and very late for lunch, but the whole Trinity Groves complex was empty of anything except a few employees standing inside restaurants polishing glasses and wrapping silverware.  Drinking and dining just weren’t happening.

Saint Rocco’s

However, we were hungry and tired of being hungry.  Since a place called Saint Rocco’s had just opened for the day we strolled inside.  The hostess was very glad to see us and placed us in a seat where we could see the whole restaurant.  It was something to see.

The decor is black and white with touches of red.  Black and white tile floor, black table and chairs with white tablecloths.  A large bar separates the restaurant from the food prep area.  Shelves of large cans of tomatoes and other staples add a hint of color.  We liked it!

And Then There Was Food

The menu has all the usual Italian food choices, but don’t get discouraged.  As soon as they delivered the warm delicious bread to our table, we knew we’d wandered into the right place.  Even the olive oil they gave us to dip the bread in was special.  Then we washed the bread down with a little Moretti’s and life was good.

While we waited for our meal the manager came around to chat us up.  She was a darling thing with a charming accent and we immediately liked her.  Bill asked her what the difference was in Italian and New York Italian.  It was something I’d never thought about before.  Had you?

Our gracious host explained that when Italians came to the States, they couldn’t get the ingredients they used to make their family dishes at home, so they had to find replacements.  Italian family recipes made with American ingredients are collectively New York Italian and they are beloved far beyond the Big Apple.

Bill and I both chose classics.  He had the Eggplant Parmesan and I had the Alfredo.  He was glad he had plenty for two meals, but I wolfed mine down in one fell swoop.  I loved it and here’s what I loved, the sauce, which was delicious, was used with restraint.  Most Alfredo dishes are drowned in too much sauce.  In this dish I could taste everything and had a delightful sauce to compliment it all.  The pasta was perfect, the vegetables were perfect and the sauce was perfect – and they were all presented in perfect proportions.

Confession, the dessert experience was disappointing.  Apparently, there is a shortage of dessert menus, because when we asked for one the waitress slipped it out of an apron pocket.  We landed on a choice, but it was one they no longer offered.  Before we had time to reconsider the other choices, the waitress had slipped the menu back into her pocket.  We took it as a sign we were not meant to have dessert and asked for the check at the first opportunity.

We’ll Be Back

Dessert mishap aside, we’ll be returning.  The atmosphere is nice, the prices are reasonable and the food is out of this world.  The service was good enough and we loved the manager.  Maybe next time we visit we may finally have an al fresco experience in Trinity Groves to rave about.

TRAVEL HERE: DRIVING AROUND AMONG OUR MEMORIES

So it was a hot Sunday afternoon in Downtown Dallas and we were hungry.  We’d spent several very enjoyable hours re-familiarizing ourselves with the American galleries at the Dallas Museum of Art, but it was about to close.  I mentioned Trinity Grove, but also pointed out it was far too hot to take advantage of the al fresco dining that seems to be a primary draw to the area.  So Bill decided to drive around downtown for a bit and visit old haunts.

Downtown Ain’t What It Used To Be

Back in the Twentieth Century, Bill and I both used to spend a lot of time downtown.  In the seventies I was in credit card banking with a small independent bank and Republic Bank processed our transactions and cards.  I made frequent visits to the building topped by a rocket and covered in star-studded metal panels.  After branch banking came to Texas, I moved on to the copier industry and found myself downtown even more often – almost daily in fact, as I popped in and out of offices training folks to use copiers, fax machines and phones.

Bill had his days downtown, too.  His first venue was the Hilton where he financed his schooling by waiting tables at The Beef Baron and helping out at banquets.  Then he started his computer company and like me, popped in and out of downtown buildings.  He was selling, delivering and installing computer equipment to feed the copiers and fax machines my company sold.

We both have fond memories of those days so as we pulled away from the DMA, Bill took a drive through downtown.  First, we drove by the Hilton.  The venerable old motel is being transformed into a multi-use development with stories and stories of apartments.

We were impressed by the rail system and the many parks which have been inserted into the landscape.  Both of these additions are great improvements to the downtown we remembered, but we weren’t crazy about all the one-way streets.  Thankfully there wasn’t too much traffic or we might have grid-locked the whole place.

We drove over to the Omni Hotel to see their new multi-restaurant venue, but we weren’t tempted to hassle with the parking or valet, so we ignored our growling stomachs and decided on some more sight-seeing.

Neither are The West End and The Brewery

Bill decided to visit the West End.  A few old standards like The Palm and Spaghetti Warehouse were clinging to the sidewalk, but it was a sad tourist trap.  We regretted the loss of those days when all the hot restaurants were clustered in the West End and complimented by a multi-story shopping and entertainment venue.

I fondly remembered another Sunday afternoon when we happened upon Robert Lee Kolb, one of my favorite local entertainers, playing on the outdoor stage.  As I stood on the edge of the crowd Robert Lee began singing the song he always used to play when I’d walk into Beethoven’s, his club in the Bachman Lake area.  The strains of the familiar tune startled me.  I looked away from my husband who I’d been chatting with to find Robert Lee staring right at me with a huge grin on his face.  It’s one of my favorite Dallas memories.

Disappointed to find the West End is about to become yet another multi-use development, we drove over to the Victory Park area and tried to figure out how to find our way into The Brewery, another hang-out we both loved before we knew each other.  For many years, The Brewery was famous for The Starck Club, a place where I have spent many an hour, but I was a regular to The Brewery before The Starck Club made it famous.  Newport’s was once one of my favorite seafood restaurants and it inhabited one end of the complex for decades.

Before The Starck Club appeared in The Brewery, I discovered Robert Lee Kolb down in an establishment called The Cellar, because it was a cellar.  From there I followed him to The Greenville Avenue Bar & Grill and further down Greenville Avenue to Dick’s Last Resort, before it moved to the West End.  Friends tell me he was playing at The Dixie House down in Lakewood back when I was in high school, but that was years before I hit Dallas’ clubbing scene.  My friendship with him began at Beethoven’s, where I’d show up with one or more members of my gang several times a week.

So that was the Sunday afternoon nostalgia tour.  Now Bill and I were hungrier than ever.  It was about 5:30, so the heat was unbearable, but we decided to go to Trinity Grove anyway.  come back next week and I’ll tell you about it!