Adamsville

Snickers says, "Hello" -- Picture by blogSpotter

by blogSpotter
I’m driving the 16 miles from Lampasas to my brother’s house, now approaching Adamsville. My usual mile-a-minute estimate fails here, because the narrow two-lane highway forces caution. My 55 mph (in a new Chevy HHR from Alamo Rent-a-car) is pissing off the locals, who roar around me in their F250’s and Avalanches. We’re in Central Texas hill country, and the late afternoon views of nearby Lucy Creek and cedar thickets are distracting me a little bit.

Adamsville has one intersection, ten houses, a service station, and Luke’s Music Hall. Five of the ten houses appear to be abandoned or in serious disrepair. A sign tells me that Izaro is nine miles east. I can’t help but wonder who lives in these houses now, or ever did. But in fact, appearances can be deceiving... My brother and his wife live in a beautiful 4-acre hillside “ranchette” just two miles north of Adamsville. They have two dogs, two cats and two pet donkeys (the donkeys are named Dinky and Snickers). My brother and his wife have very full lives rehabilitating old computers and restoring old cars. I enjoy a lengthy visit with them and their church friends – dinner included. Their back porch runs the length of the house and looks over a spectacular hill country view.

There was a time when I felt like I needed to be “where the action is”, the heart of a big city. How do you get by without Best Buy, Nordstrom’s and Olive Garden? What of nightclubs and restaurant row? I’ve lived at the Heart of Dallas now for 25 years and can’t say I’ve benefited all that much from the city beat. I know you can experience solitude in a throng of people. My brother has made me aware that you can have a sense of total belonging with a few well-chosen friends and companions.

As I go (somewhat unwillingly) into my 2nd half-century, I realize my needs are not what they were, or what I thought they ever were. Lampasas has what I need for all practical purposes: HEB, Blockbuster, Wendy’s, nearby friends and family. I could drive into Austin for weekend shopping forays. What of tripping the lights fantastic? What of the parties, museum galas, street fairs and phantasmagoric events of the big city? … It was all somewhat a mirage -- never had it, never will. I sometimes think that urban living drives one further inward, not outward. I’ve remained perfect strangers with many of my nearby neighbors. The biggest advantage of the city is the job selection. As you phase towards retirement, the job doesn’t matter so much. As you age your way into a prune-like senior citizen status, an active bar scene is way less a concern. If you’re lucky enough to be partnered, it’s even less a concern than that.

So, am I about to pack it all up and move to Green Acres? I still have to have HEB, so Adamsville loses the bet. And at 50, I still need to earn for my retirement – by all estimates, Social Security will be endangered by my 66th year. But would it be such a tragedy to “live small”? Most high school seniors in a small town chomp at the bit to leave. I think many boomers, like me, have become bored with suburban “Pleasant Valley Sundays” to borrow from the Monkees. You wouldn’t want to run into small-minded prejudices that characterize some small Texas towns but as more boomers make this late migration, it shouldn’t be as much of a concern.

And now, Luke’s Music Hall beckons…

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