"It's like Ibiza but, you know, country," I said, dialing up Magic Train of Remove Kebab to maximum volume. It was an Albanian bar in rural Texas and Remove Kebab just seemed right. Everyone agreed.
"Like this song a lot, 'bout a train with guns. So where you from?"
"From England. I'm a pastor."
"Good to meetcha!"
It turns out we pretty much knew each other thanks to mutual friends and acquaintances, it's a small town; I like that, so much better than living in the plastic-sided splendor of the Metrosprawl. Then, after a quick blast of the perennial classic, Don't Fear The Reaper, I headed for home.
The streets were empty, apart from the occasional cat, slinking across the road and one or two wild dogs. They're a menace and you have to wonder at the genius of the people who abandoned them.
Back at the compound, I reflected on the town and the wisdom of the Baptists and Methodists who helped pioneer it. They cared for people and now their churches are large.
There's a lesson in that.
God bless,
LSP
