What I see while moseying around Bandera these days is something that few in the current population will see or feel while traveling through our town.
Every time I come out of the OST in my mind I can still see the oldtimers sitting on those large concrete window ledges out front. Most folks won’t even take notice of those ledges because of the benches which have been added in more recent times blocking the view.
Oldtimers like myself don’t even go to town just to hang around with other oldtimers and shoot the breeze like they did back in the day. That’s the way the town news was spread in earlier times but it seems folks are just too busy now. They all have the internet where there are ten different versions of the latest happenings. On the positive side there are no longer chewing tobacco stains all over the sidewalk and paved parking spots in front of the OST.
The table of knowledge inside has descendants from some of the earliest prominent Bandera families present every morning but it’s becoming dilluted with some folks who “ain’t from around here” joining in the conversations. By the way, we don’t care how you did things back where you came from so just know that’s a big no-no.
The start of tourist season weather has brought an increase in the number of road apples decorating the streets lately much to the delight of the local chicken population. I haven’t noticed the ducks and geese picking through the horse droppings so I guess they still prefer the supply of cat food around the 11th Street parking lot. Maybe it has something to do with that pecking order I heard about over the years.
The old Red Goose pool hall that was run by Smith Wright on Main Street many years ago has a new look and it’s got nothing to do with billiards. It’s all about the tourists and souvenirs now. Don’t expect to see or hear Shorty Fries snoring on an old couch against the back wall while catching a midday nap. The cost of playing was ten cents a rack so we tried to play quietly enough to avoid waking him and having to ante up another dime. Any cussing in the pool hall was usually associated with the back room where the moon players gathered.
This Growing Up In Bandera is getting out of hand with all the traffic and new clueless people running local government. By clueless I mean they have no idea where the flavor of an old Bandera came from so they don’t know how to preserve it. No wonder the oldtimers don’t gather in front of the OST anymore.
Want more Growing Up in Bandera? Get the books! Visit the Bulletin’s office or call 830-796-3718 to nab your copies of Volumes 1 and 2 Today!
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