Austin Duck Tour

They say everything is bigger in Texas...a little phrase that apparently also extends to my waistline and my mouth. Imagine me like Pac-Man, systematically eating my way across the Lone Star state...buccckk-wah....buccckk-wah...while occasionally entertaining/educating/annoying my companions with non-related, random fun facts.  Douglas was WAY too eager to be stuffed into the trunk of Lisa's car on our way to the Duck Tour of Austin yesterday. Joan asking to switch with him, mid-journey, should have been another clue. "Not at all," Joan assured me graciously, "It's just that this is my third time hearing your fun facts about 7-11 and I wanted to give Doug a chance to absorb it." 

Manning the "Duck," Captain Miguel did a fantastic job. Having experienced these historic World War II re-purposed vehicles in Boston many times, Savannah, Sydney, and I were a bit perplexed (and a little doubtful) when confronted by the converted school bus before us. However, having embarked on literary expeditions with the fictional Ms. Frizzle, we nevertheless climbed aboard this magical mode of transportation and hoped for the best. I was initially handed a broken "quack-er" which I feared was a harbinger of bad luck and Captain Miguel kept classifying every bird he saw as a vulture so our voyage seemed plagued with uncertain omens. However, my fears were laid to rest when Captain Miguel even managed to make architecture appear interesting. "That 80 ka-zillion dollar home was built to look like a manta ray," our pilot explained, scanning the skies for buzzards while I looked for evidence that perhaps our good captain wasn't buzzed himself when he later tried to convince me that another building looked like an armadillo. When he wasn't encouraging us to mass hallucinate, Captain Miguel provided us with his own fun facts. I learned that the origination of the term "Six Flags" has more to do with conquering nations than it does with roller coasters AND I discovered that, whether called upon or not, when asked if anyone knows a state song, it will come flooding out of me as if the Mansfield Dam, constructed in 1942, had to suddenly allow for a 100 feet water level change to accommodate the 1,450 long Colorado River ("Can you change seats with me?" Joan asked, poking Doug. "Captain Miguel told us to remain seated while the vehicle is in motion," Doug reminded her.) These two were quickly becoming fast friends.). Meanwhile, I didn't even know that I knew ALL the lyrics to "Deep in the Heart of Texas." 

Lisa, who is actually FROM Texas, staunchly refused to answer ANY of Captain Miguel's questions OR even tell US so we could look smart. Doug tossed himself AND me under the bus, outting us when Captain Miguel asked if there were any teachers on board as we were floating about on Lake Travis. I quickly snagged a life jacket, anticipating the angry crowd tossing us overboard. Fortunately, Captain Miguel became fixated on his aversion to "White Claws"  and Sandra Bullock's lousy ex-husband ("She's a Lamborghini," he sighed before snarling, "and he's a Yugo.") so we managed to avoid disaster. 

Traveling back to the Visitor's Center, we learned about "Eeyore's Party" (pants optional), the feral pig problem plaguing the Panhandle (for $4,000, Brad could be handed a semi-assault weapon and, leaning Rambo-style out of a helicopter, save Texas from this invasive species that targets SEA TURTLE EGGS!!! Or...for free, he could wade into Lake Travis and pluck barnacles off boats. Both equally heroic.) and Captain Miguel's strong, but obviously unfounded, opinion that people from Upstate New York are incapable of differentiating Puerto Rico from Mexico. I am OFFENDED, sir! (To be fair, though, my friend, Allison, is currently in the Dominican and I thought she was in South America.)

Thanks to Captain Miguel's expert driving, we arrived safely back. He graciously thanked me as I carefully approached the ladder. I apologized as I slowly descended. "I have trouble getting down from ladders." He offered me a hand. "You don't get down from a ladder," he gently corrected me with a wink, "You get down from a duck."