Adios and Auf Wiedersehen.

FREDRICKSBURG, TEXAS---I am at the end of the two worst days in recent memory.


It is 8:00 p.m. and I am nestled into a LaQuinta on the outskirts of Fredricksburg, Texas, a quaint little German community in the Texas Hill Country. I have taken refuge here as the cold winds blow…and as a strategy to get out of the state capital before I lose my composure.

Last night I stayed at the Flea-Bag Inn (not really the name), a hotel in downtown Austin while I planned visits to the state lawmakers who represent Western Texas College in the capitol. It was not a good night. No Internet (though I paid for it)…no pillows (I admit to a pillow fetish) and a one towel minimum. It was not good.

But that was nirvana in comparison to the day that awaited me. I patiently waited to speak to the lawmakers about huge cuts to community colleges in general…and more specifically what they would mean to one small college in Snyder, Texas. They seemed compassionate….but clearly….they are as bothered by this as I am. You see, Texas has a mandated constitutional balanced budget. That means a dip in revenues will result in a major cut in the state budget. But is seems to me…and 49 other community college presidents in the Lone Star State…that we are taking the brunt of the hit.

The afternoon wasn’t much better as I met with the other 49 folks who have to make sense of this mess. Misery loves company…and there was plenty of hand-wringing at the president’s meeting.

That’s when things got worse.

Namely-----my keen lack of direction and a damnable GPS----made me pray for mercy.

First, I got turned around and walked away from the Flea Bag Hotel. The opposite direction. Many blocks out of the way. …..while north winds whipped over and through my bald head.

I decided to not stay the night. I decided to go home….and sleep in my own bed. So I checked out of the Flea Bag…and let my GPS guide me out of Austin in oppressive traffic.

I hate my GPS. Her voice grates on my nerves.

It led me west on a road I have never been on before.

As I started to see daylight in the traffic, my Chief Financial Officer called on the cell phone and warned me not to come home. Ice and snow were between me and Snyder. I always listen to her….well almost always….

She recommended I stop in Fredricksburg and stay the night. I agreed.

That’s when the GPS decided to take me through the scenic Hill Country to get to my destination. Literally, I watched the two-lane road narrow to one lane….to a dirt path. ….to a point that I actually saw large bird forms circling overhead. All the time the GPS told me I was hot….and getting hotter. Once I found civilization—a town with a Dairy Queen----I was told I was going away from Fredricksburg….much the same way I had walked away from the Flea Bag only a few hours before.

This is all like a bad nightmare and when I finally found Fredricksburg….the only restaurant open near the LaQuinta Hotel was a Mexican/German restaurant called El Deutcher. There I marveled at the entertainment. A Hispanic man on keyboard playing the theme from “Days of Our Lives.”

I had the kraut taco.

It was the perfect end of the worst 48 hours I can remember since….well….since awaking in post-op after butt surgery. My minister was praying over my behind. In fact, butt surgery was preferable to my Flea Bag/Heil Santa Anna experience.

I’m going to bed now.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.

It most certainly can’t be worse. ….Adios and Auf Wiedersehen.