Real men wear spurs...to the grocery store.
Marfa, Texas. Population 2,000. Me, with a sore throat at the Marfa Pueblo Market. A country-western version of Joplin’s “Piece of my Heart” on the Muzak has me Texas two-steppin’ down an aisle to find throat lozenges after a four-hour delay at LAX and Typhoid Mary sitting across the aisle on the flight to El Paso. My husband trails behind me, wondering if the vast plains and 90-degree heat have rendered me delirious.
I’m in Marfa for my poet-cousin’s wedding to his English-professor fiancee. Why Marfa, you ask? It’s not because they’re members of the ‘Giant/No Country for Old Men/There Will Be Blood’ fan club. Before the more recent films, Marfa’s claim to fame was that the Liz Taylor-Rock Hudson-James Dean epic ‘Giant’ was made there, on the site of the expansive Evans Ranch. Scan the horizon from the 90 highway and you can still see the ruins of the Reata mansion facade just to the left of the existing Evans family ranch house.
The reason I’m in this quirky little town (and I mean ‘quirky’ in a good way): My cousin and his fiancee would escape to Marfa when the pressures of graduate school at UT Austin were a bit much.
Meanwhile, back at the Pueblo, I see Jimmy Dean sausage on the refrigerated shelf just beneath the chorizo. A bounty of pearly-white onions, ruby-red tomatoes and emerald cilantro is making me crave a mean bowl of salsa in the tiny produce section. We’ve moved on to another Country-Western tune, and I’m loathe to dance for fear my husband will ditch me in the parking lot.
At last, behind a railed off section at the back of the Pueblo, I find the beauty and health section. After selecting a bottle of ibuprofen and a box of throat lozenges, I find I have to pay for the items there before I can continue shopping. Perhaps it’s a measure to prevent miscreants from making off with mascara and Alka-Seltzer. The genuinely nice lady behind the counter places my remedies in a clear plastic bag and staples the receipt to it.
As we leave the Pueblo Market, I get my Texas Kodak moment, but my camera is at the bottom of my purse. He’s a modern-day Jett Rink, with worn Levis, a Stetson hat, dusty boots and spurs. Real spurs! His Western-style shirt is a crisp cream color, and in red embroidery between his broad shoulders is a website address for the rodeo that’s in town this weekend.
The 21st Century Cowboy’s leisurely pace is still too fast for my fumbling, and I catch a fleeting photo of him and his grocery cart leaving the Pueblo Market, his lanky frame illuminated in the scorching Marfa sun.
WHAT $10 BUYS:
1 pack of green tea and honey Chloraseptic throat lozenges
1 bottle of 25-count Advil
