Like a post on social media of a person reflecting on a happy childhood memory - her family having dinner at a nice Fort Worth steak house, followed by a show at Casa Mañana. That's the new Casa Mañana- the one that was built in 1958, as opposed to the old Casa Mañana that opened in 1936.
The original Casa was built as part of the official Texas Centennial Celebration (along with Fair Park, in Dallas) and was largely the brainchild of the famous Broadway producer Billy Rose, who set out to produce a Texas-sized extravaganza, featuring an incredible variety of talent and theatrical acts, and showgirls (including Sally Rand. Okay, some of you are going to have to Google her, I know).
It must have been something to behold. The world's largest revolving stage in an open amphitheater setting, "floating" on an artificial lake, with a curtain-wall of water fountains. The stage could extend toward the audience and retract as well, while revolving. There was a restaurant and seating for 4,000 customers - and its first and only season was exactly 100 days long.
As I recall, the stage skeleton had been dragged into an open field - I don't think any of the amphitheater structure itself remained. I suspect that it had been demolished and the 9-foot deep lake filled in by then.
Or like the fact that the coyotes are making a comeback. There are open fields only a half-mile or so from our house, so we hear coyotes from time to time, but less so in recent years. Encroaching urbanization has reduced their territory, concentrating them into the nearby Pioneer Farms area, an Austin Park that provides a somewhat sheltered nature preserve.
The other night must have been a full moon, because the coyotes were yipping and howling. Like they were that night when, as a teen, I camped with my family near Bryce Canyon. The campground was primitive, and situated on a mesa. That was the night I realized what "howling at the moon" was really like. Coyotes - dozens of coyotes, many on our mesa - calling back and forth to coyotes on adjoining mesas for much of the night.We had already experienced bears in our campsite - I wasn't keen on coyotes wandering through.
And another social media post that asked if those who call the common kitchen appliance an "icebox" knew why it was called that. By the time I came along, our family was up-to-date, and we had an electric refrigerator in our kitchen - but there was a real, honest-to-goodness icebox in the kitchen at our church. By that time, it was no longer used in the time-honored fashion, but was simply a storage cabinet. And the thing I remember most about it was the smell from within its tightly sealed interior; not a bad smell, but musty and sharp.
Or when the TV weatherman mentioned that lower terrain in the area would see cooler temperatures overnight. That's common knowledge, and often repeated on the weather cast, but the other night it made me think of the family driving along a country road to visit Uncle Marvin and Aunt Polly.
Like all other autos of that era, air conditioning was provided by rolling down the windows, and a favorite pastime was to hang out the window and "fly" my hand in the breeze. And as we traveled down that country road, we would - from time-to-time - encounter cool spots. Wonderful, delicious cool spots, no doubt caused by lower spots along the route.
What else is stored in the mysterious mind, just waiting for that nudge?
