there used to be a wildlife preserve near my childhood home called texas safari, and occasionally a new boyfriend would impress upon our mother his facile ways with children by throwing us into the back seat of his maverick or hornet or duster. the guy who eventually won out, though, had a tiny two-seater. he did cave later on, picked up a big cargo van, folded out a couple metal chairs for us so we didn't have to ride on the floor.
in the park, there was this particularly harrowing curve, and at the bottom of the hill a junked out car was prominently noted with signs to slow down, and even with the ostriches stabbing you in the face through your open car window and the exotic africanized goats, chickens and sheep carrying god knows what intestinal parasite, this ill-fated jalopy was far and away the most exciting aspect of texas safari.
they later turned the whole thing into a hunting preserve, more than likely due to the plummeting divorce rates of the 1990s.
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5 comments:
again with the exotic goats -- see, it's like they're popping up everywhere.
yeah, i know, and the worst part is that you can never UNsee your first exotic goats. the shelf life of that memory is unmatched.
HA!
I got nothing else.
Except this. I've been to that place.
HA!
thank god someone can verify this place actually existed. after i wrote this, i did a web search to verify that it existed back in '82 and then thought to myself, 'OF COURSE IT EXISTED, YOU FOOL! YOU WERE THERE!!!'
but then i wondered, 'OR WAS I???'
There's something so fundamentally wrong with the juxtaposition of "Texas" and "Safari" like that. Maybe if you count the maverick, the hornet, the mustang, the cobra, the pinto, and the impala as animals?
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