Scoldy wrote something the other day that got me reminiscing (do you know Scoldy? Shouldn't you know Scoldy?)

Scoldy is someone who's spent a lot of time in Dallas, much like I have. I have nothing against Dallas, really-people who read here come from there, I came from there, and a cool chick that lets me freak out on her plate still lives there. But lately I find when people ask me where I'm from, out of the handbasket full of locations I've lived in I come up with a simple, unexpected answer.

"I come from Seattle," I say.

And I flinch like a cheating whore.

Dallas...Dallas is so long ago it seems like another lifetime. In terms of the way I think of my life, it is a different lifetime. It's a whole other person who lived there, it's not really me. Not really.

The thoughts of Dallas came up in my mind when I read Scoldy's post and thought about Dallas’ dialing codes. Stupid, I know, but we work in telecom and have to think about these kinds of things. I remember living in one area code and having to dial another just to talk to my then-boyfriend, Kim. Then they introduced another area code and the whole thing was blown to hell. I’m not sure if I’m proud or not, but I successfully had all three area codes as my phone number for a period of time. Apparently, my grandpa in Kansas showed my stepmother his address book, and the entries for me took up the entire “C” section and most of the “D” section of his book (my maiden name starts with a “C”). I moved so much he would just cross out my old address and write in the new place.

I lived in Arlington (north and south), Dallas (Lower Greenville and Oak Cliff), and Richardson. I moved a lot within those areas. I moved so much that I knew the roads of Dallas like the back of my hand, I could find my way out of any traffic jam anywhere because I knew all the side roads and shortcuts.
Most of the shortcuts have been lost to the foggy archives of my shoddy memory.

But thereÂ’s a lot that I remember.

Dallas was an easy place to live for the most part. It was as part of me as the lines and etchings on the bottom of my feet. The heat springs to mind first, Christ that incredible heat. I remember being nearly dizzy from it. YouÂ’d park your car as close to a sliver of shade as you could find, and youÂ’d run from air conditioned spot to air conditioned spot. The heat sapped you of your energy during the day and at night youÂ’d sit outside, batting at the insects, wondering at what point your skin would just let go of it all.

The bluebonnets were what made Dallas. For a period of time as brief as a sneeze the sides of the Interstate would be covered in a carpet of violent purple. They bluebonnets wouldnÂ’t last long but everyone and their dog would be taking pictures in them despite warnings that trampling the collections of state flower would get you ticketed.

I remember the traffic. The worst traffic IÂ’ve ever seen in my life was actually in Atlanta (with the worst driving actually in Italy) but Dallas liked to give Atlanta traffic jams a run for the money. I-20, I-30, the 635 and the worst offender, 75 Central ExpresswayÂ…god the traffic. Roads were always being dug up and improved in the worst sense of the word. It got so IÂ’d go into work by 7, the sun already hard and hot on the sizzling blacktop, just to avoid the crush of traffic. I was a different driver then. All that aggression and offensive driving has melted off me in a haze of commuting via train, driving lessons, and good old-fashioned aging. I was reckless then, in my youth. Life was for living and driving was for anger. ItÂ’s all passed me by now.

In Dallas I had Deep Ellum, the hopping throbbing alternate scene to West End and Lower Greenville. I remember dancing at the Blind Lemon and standing on a rooftop bar seeing a crumpled Mercedes under a Parisian bridge on the TV. It was Diana’s death and all of us – buzzing on our Zimas and Dos Equiis, the Shiners and our Bacardi Breezers – didn’t believe it was real. West End was for the tourists and business travelers, whom I’d sometimes take there for a “slice of Dallas”. Lower Greenville was where I called home for a while, then it was a place I couldn’t bear. One of my tattoos is from Lower Greenville, the one that hurt the most.

I often wonder what wouldÂ’ve happened had I bought the house there that I was looking at. Then I figure: Probably nothing different than what has happened. IÂ’m where IÂ’m supposed to be.

The sights of Dallas were all familiar – Mansion on Turtle Creek. The Book Depository and the grassy knoll, both of which I visited mere days before I moved away. The hurtling slides of what was Wet ‘N Wild (Jesus, what a horrible name) before Six Flags bought the water park. The old Rangers stadium and then the new one, which always looked aggressive to me. That weird glass skyscraper that turned gold in the sun, a yellow-y pink outside of the sun. The keyhole building in downtown Dallas. The Cowboys stadium with its partial roof. Reunion Tower, where I once dined.

I remember the food in Dallas, too. In college three of my closest female friends would meet every Friday at the El ChicoÂ’s in Arlington to drink margaritas the size of melons and gorge on fajitas. The food wasnÂ’t spectacular but itÂ’s what we did. I have lost contact with most of the women, despite them trying to anchor me in their gravity, but as usual I spun out of control and eased myself out of their lives.

Jason’s Deli was for Saturday lunch – the mufalattas, the baked potatoes the size of a rabbit, loaded with cheese – and you weren’t hungry the rest of the day. Sunday mornings I would go out to Einstein Brothers and bring back a bagel made just the way I liked it, which varied from week to week. I’d pay $1.50 in quarters into the nearby machine to buy the Dallas Morning News, which I’d read the many sections of in bed with my bagel and my orange juice, excluding the business and finance ones, and I’d meticulously check the news about the Stars.

Ah, the Stars. I used to watch the games. I used to watch the players practice at Las Colinas. I used to know every single stat to every single one of them. Now I donÂ’t even know most of the players. Your priorities change, even if you still carry a torch for the little team that could. I will always love the Stars.

I went to college at UTA. I finished high school in Arlington. Never having fitted in, I took a load of classes during the day and wound up graduating a semester early. It suited me.

I was never a Texan.

I couldnÂ’t have been-it just didnÂ’t compute with me. I remember how fond Kim was of me but IÂ’ll never understand why. The me that permeates my memories of back then was a raw, naked individual prone to rage and displays of pique. I was a hollow shell of uncontrollable emotions. I was nothing inside. I had no status and no concept of status in a town whose every definition is based on what youÂ’re wearing, what youÂ’re driving, and where you live.

At the end of my time in Dallas I was finally finding peace. I had a fun little girl car that suited me perfectly and that I loved (a VW Cabrio, which I still miss horribly and wish IÂ’d kept). I had a little house in a dodgy little suburb (Oak Cliff), but everything in that house was mine. I had a bouncy dog and a room full of hockey kit and an old-fashioned gas heater in the bathroom that was all mine. I had my routines and I followed them religiously.

Sometimes I feel a pang of sadness that the Lemonheads will never know Dallas, the place where Mommy came from will be a puzzle and a wisp of smoke to them, nothing more than a name and a grainy 1980’s TV show. It’s impossible to tell them that I paid my bills to TU Electric, Southwestern Bell, and Texaco. It won’t matter to them that I was at the Stars playoff game in ‘98, the one they narrowly won, the one which pushed for Game 7, and it was so awesome that the entire stadium screamed and cried and we broke the lights above us from hitting them so hard and when we left the entire crowd was singing and dancing and laughing. It means nothing to them that we would go Kroger-ing for the Thanksgiving food, that iFratelli’s had one of the best pizzas, and that The Parks was the mall to go to for serious shopping, even if it meant braving the I-20.

But maybe thatÂ’s ok.

I mentioned something to Angus this weekend that I wish the twins would have as they grow up (but wonÂ’t have, for various reasons.)

He smiled at me. “Some things have to be a trade-off.”

HeÂ’s right.

We can start over again with the Mariners and the Seahawks. How the utilities are paid is pointless, just as it was pointless to me when I was a kid. Victoria is just some chick who’ll have a Secret, Jason’s Deli is just a name, and the heat – that amazing heat – is something they’ll find on holidays we will go on to Malaysia, Thailand, or the Caribbean. They won’t have fields of bluebonnets but they will have bluebells, and the bells can give the bonnets a run for their money.

Dallas and I got what we needed from each other. WeÂ’re cool. WeÂ’re even. It was never home and never will be. Should everything all go to hell I will never go back to Dallas again, even though as I write this I canÂ’t really tell where I would go. Speeding through the rail lines of Southwest Trains I know that this, this is home. This is where it all comes together. Living in Dallas was easy and living in England is often hard but I have never felt so calmly home in my life as I do here in our little corner of England.

But thanks, Big D.

I look back on Dallas as it starts to fade in my memory. Already parts of it are going, being replaced by things my RAM has space for (I canÂ’t remember the name of that other Mexican restaurant I loved. What was the name of that vet I used to use? And what was the shortcut off of Brown, the one that took me to Lower Greenville? Does anyone even remember TaylorÂ’s, the bookstore I used to work for, or has it passed from memory, too?)

Dallas to me will always be a memory of bright white hot sun bouncing off the road and dashboard in front of me. The sun visor is pulled down and the shadow bounces along the upper bridge of my nose. The pavement is shimmering in waves of heat and itÂ’s all covered with the dazzling sunlight, and I donÂ’t know where IÂ’m driving to but I donÂ’t need to know, itÂ’s just part of the journey.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 11:51 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
Post contains 1980 words, total size 11 kb.

1 Wow. That brought back memories. More than you can imagine. I lived in Carrolton for a time, then Denton. I worked at the People's restaurant in Addison for a time, then later at the Magic Time Machine. I remember all of the things you mentioned, but the Stars moved down from Minnesota after I left to go back to St Louis. Even then, as a longtime hockey fan I wouldn't have been a Stars fan. They were a divisional rival of the Blues, and I spent too much time spent disliking them as the North Stars.

Posted by: ~Easy at July 17, 2007 12:36 PM (X+de8)

2 i feel homesick for the home town I left behind: Meredith, NH. But yet... it'll be 10 years next month and it's fading, just like your memories are. I was not quite 13 when I left, though. It makes me sad, realizing that I can't quite remember how the sunlight looked, glinting off the lake, all the names of the librarians - thoughI do still remember my library card number (3102) and the sound the Mount Washington boat made as it came to the docks. But I guess it's part of life, moving on, seeing new things, putting roots down in different places. Right, now I feel like a plant that's been replanted many times. Wonder what color my pot is this time?

Posted by: Hannah at July 17, 2007 12:56 PM (5w+E2)

3 I'm still a little raw about the time Dallas stole the MN Northstars and renamed them simply The Stars. Maybe not just a little raw - - you'd think all that time and a new hockey team would heal that kind of wound.

Posted by: cursingmama at July 17, 2007 01:37 PM (PoQfr)

4 I think you said it perfectly... we all end up where we are supposed to be. If someone would have told me years ago that I, a town kid, would end up married to a farmer and living in the country? I wouldn't have believed a word. You will give the lemonheads everything they need. Wherever.

Posted by: sue at July 17, 2007 01:47 PM (WbfZD)

5 A beautiful post, Helen. I hope you are printing this for the babies to read when they are older. Trust me - they WILL want to know.

Posted by: kenju at July 17, 2007 02:19 PM (DBvE5)

6 Still mad about the hockey - like cursingmama. Even went so far as to wear an old North Stars tshirt to a Dallas Stars game while living there. Dallas holds a lot of fun and painful memories for me. Every once in a while I tease the idea of visiting ... but wonder if it would feel the same or not. The husband catches me looking around North Dallas, Carrollton, Plano, Richardson .. etc remembering all of those places. I had to leave to escape the big hair and big hard boobs. Emma was born in Richardson but we left for Minnesota when she was just 3 months old. Still, when people ask, she says she's from Texas. Man, you brought up a lot of memories!

Posted by: Michele at July 17, 2007 02:45 PM (H4SV7)

7 How typical of me that that after your beautiful post, all I have to say is "mmmmmm..... iFratelli...."? I ate there at least once a week up until I quit my job in Irving to have Bridget. Best pizza ever. But I know what you mean. We've lived a lot of places that we've liked but for me, Dallas is home. Not so much for my husband. I can't say that we'll never move but this will be home no matter where our house is. But I wasn't born in Dallas, and have many memories of growing up in a lot of other cities. For some reason, this place just fits me. Until we retire to Hilton Head, that is...

Posted by: donna at July 17, 2007 05:15 PM (Kco5r)

8 The only reason I'm positive Taylor's really existed is because I still have the bookmarks from the books I bought there. Loved this post.

Posted by: kitty at July 17, 2007 08:04 PM (Zl4mu)

9 I have been to the Dallas/Ft. Worth area twice for vacation in my life at the age of 10 and 14. My aunts used to live there and all I remember that is was hotter than hell and muggy (Mind you I always went in mid summer). My aunt lived in some small town off a long dirt gravel road about 2 hours from Dallas. I do remember thinking to my 14 year old self that there are sure a lot of freaking freeways here. It seems every mile you go there would be an exit with 3-4 over passes zig zaging over each other and wonder how the hell my mom step dad naviagated their way there all the way from Canada! My memories include the PBR rodeo in Mesquite, the BBQ beef brisket sandwiches (I would kill for one now) and the Ft. Worth Stockyards... (Not Dallas but close enough) I begged my mom to take me to Six Flags but we never did get to go...I have fond memories of Texas and would love to go back. I have been to Arlington my other aunt lived there for a short time and I had a very nice pool. One of these days I hope I can go back for a visit. I decided to delurk. I love the blog. If you donÂ’t mind me asking how did you become so fond of hockey? I thought only us Canadians were gun ho for our hockey.

Posted by: Missgirlbliss at July 18, 2007 04:51 AM (JQN4I)

10 My entire family lives in Grand Prairie/Arlington/Mansfield - but when I go back now, it's never "home." I've forgotten the names of highways, and my landmarks that I used to drive with are rapidly changing. The big field that we used to go hot air ballooning in across from the Parks is now built up with generic box stores. I do miss some things deeply. Gloria's (only the one on Lemmon), El Fenix, and this other little Mexican restaurant on Restaurant Row that has long since gone out of business but had amazing queso. Learning to drive on I30. Driving to Dallas for dinner when I was at UNT, eating at the El Chicos that was closest to the stadium every single Saturday (the one across the street from the Black Eyed Pea). I loved when we'd get a few snowflakes and the entire metroplex would shut down. And god... yes... the bluebonnets. But I remember other things too that make me so glad I don't live there anymore. Sorry for blathering on so long. This just really moved me.

Posted by: April at July 18, 2007 03:39 PM (sxFIl)

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