Avoid Crowds

Bad craziness in Allen this weekend.

Avoid Crowds

Uncle Remus (man, I miss him)

I saw one video where the shooter was maybe 50 yards away, just getting out of his hoopty and started shooting. A pickup at about 1/2 the distance came out of it’s space, turned right, and beat feet. I can’t help thinking if that were me, I’d have turned left and creamed the dude. He probably had tunnel vision and wouldn’t notice my little Toyota until I was close enough to floor it.

Of course the usual suspects were whitewashing the dude and calling him a Huwhite Nazi. Sure.

My prodigal daughter in Chicago texted to see if we were OK. Was anyone in Allen?


My other daughter lives pretty far away from that. I was in downtown Dallas at a vast right wing conspiracy convention. The boy was in Austin. Herself was in the Motherland with her sisters.

I texted back something like:

I think it’s safe to say you won’t see my fat Irish ass in an outlet mall of any kind, let alone one in Allen.


I’ve actually been to that mall, way back in the olden days and one in Terrell, never to return.


First, they have nothing I want and if I find something I like, they won’t have it in my size. Guaranteed.

Second, I don’t shop. I buy.

If I darken the doors of a brick and mortar store, either I’ve looked online and I know they have what I want in stock, or I’m going somewhere to buy something common that I know will be there. Otherwise, I buy online. Especially clothing and shoes.

Don’t get me wrong, I do go to stores. When I buy dress and dress casual attire, I’m at an honest to God Men’s, and Men’s only store. I pick what I came for, and have it tailored.

Everything else, I buy online. Everything retail for clothing around me is sized for Weird Harold or Jose from Oaxaca. I can buy shoes, jeans, shorts, and shirts online – the brands I want, the sizes I need. I tend to go for the good worker gear, like found at Duluth Trading. My winter attire is jeans, dickies pocket T, a Duluth Sherpa, and LL Bean mocs. My summer gear is shorts, same T, and Chacos or Sperry TopSiders. No socks.

Back to our unpleasantness.

I think it’s time to carry my .44 when I waddle out of the home range.