Halcyon Days

Sometimes, things mount up to the point that you feel you’ve just got to get away – even if only for a day.

After several weeks of a personal procession of things to kick your outlook on life where it hurts, I had to declare myself on leave for the better part of Saturday. In the aftermath of (a) a severe case of work-related burnout, (b) a really unpleasant incident with one of the neighbors, and (c) water seepage from a heavy thunderstorm covering most of my bedroom carpet and smaller areas at the front of the apartment, basically undoing several weekends of work on this place, I needed a nobody-but-for-me fun day.

I had planned to meet with my son for lunch or dinner on Father’s Day, but he was called away for a 10-day Civil Air Patrol excursion. I had to find a suitable substitute plan to put a smile on my face, and quick.

Fortunately for me, Dallas is only a 45-minute drive and I’ve got a car that, despite its age, still gets very good gas mileage. Equally as fortunate is the fact I don’t have to spend a lot of money once I get there.

I started the “Terry’s Day Out” event at the Half-Price Books mega store on Northwest Highway and Greenville. It was nice to be back in that store for the first time in a year and a half, browsing books, CDs, having a nice chat with an employee stocking the magazines section and enjoying a coffee and Danish in the café before heading out.

For the record, I picked up a hardback copy of Stephen King’s “Nightmares and Dreamscapes” short story collection, an anthology of Native American mythology, and CDs by Caesars (“Paper Tigers”) and Jesus and Mary Chain (“Honey’s Dead”). Total cost: $18.36.

That’s why I love Half-Price Books, folks.

From there, it was up U.S. 75 to Plano and a place I had never visited before, but will again – lots. Kegs and Barrels is the beer and wine store I wish I had a lot closer to home, and it would have been worth the drive if I had not gone anywhere else.

Save for a local bistro that is allowed to sell and serve Texas produced wines, one upscale steakhouse off Interstate 20 and one casual restaurant in a nearby town, I live in a dry county. To buy any kind of beer to take home, I have to go into Kaufman or Terrell and then I’m limited to the mass-made tasteless junk or the usual suspects in imports (i.e. Guinness, Heineken, Corona).

At Kegs and Barrels, though, I found a shrine to the wonderful beer world that is out there: English ales of every style, Belgian Trappist ales, German hefeweissens and microbrews both domestic and imported. Better yet, I didn’t have to wander alone through the aisles thanks to the woman behind the counter, Susan, whose business card bore the title “Senior Beverage Advisor” and whose mutual appreciation of and knowledge about the stock proved that some titles are still earned and deserved in these times.

A short time later, I walked out of the store with about $57 in a luscious variety of brews, a pleasant experience and a new comrade-in-pints who was also nice enough to point me to a very good place for dinner later on.

Before that, though, I was off to Whole Foods Market because getting much by way of organic and vegetarian foods and products is about as limited as the beer where I live. Having lived in Memphis most of last year, I got a little spoiled having a Wild Oats Market and even more mainstream supermarkets like Kroger with a special section of natural and organic groceries.

I stuck with dry goods only since I was not returning home immediately, but I scored a lot of favorites I have really missed in the past seven months, most of all Puffins cereal (I will be writing a separate story on this super-yummy creation very soon).

From there, it was back toward U.S. 75 and Susan’s suggestion of Akbar Indian Restaurant. It had been about nine months (again, while I was living in Memphis) since I had enjoyed dining at an Indian restaurant, so I savored every bite of this dinner. The food was awesome from start to finish, the service and atmosphere were both very nice and I would have been hard pressed to find more reasonable prices for it all.

Before heading east again, I took 75 back into Dallas – making a second stop at Half-Price Books for a book requested by a friend I was speaking to by phone – and sprinted down to the Henderson Street district for a nightcap at The Old Monk, a grand little pub I had discovered about five years ago while staying at a nearby hotel for a journalism convention. I found a seat at the bar and nursed a pint of Franziskaner Hefe-Weissbier from the tap, which proved to be a great choice for putting out a little of the fire from the curry I had just enjoyed.

When I returned home about 10:30 p.m. I realized an invaluable truth: Work may be a drag, other problems may pop up and gasoline prices may never stop rising….

But, sometimes, you’ve just got to hop into the car and make it your fun day.

Anyone wishing to receive pronunciation help with ale names like “Trois Pistoles” and “Weihenstephan” is encouraged to contact Terry Britt at terrybritt@hotmail.com. It could save you a bit of embarrassment.