Tyler, TX

1). The first band I witnessed on St.Patrick's Day.
The bassist was wearing a TC hat. In between songs the lead singer grabbed the mic and said, "Once again we're so and so from Minneapolis..."

2). After seeing this guy , I'm trying to wipe the smile from my face. I'm analyzing the faces of folks walking by themselves in attempts to remind myself of how faces are supposed to be positioned without appearing creepy. Top candidates around me are clearly on a mission, practicing for the runway, or pissed. I settle for mission, my task: Poster show.
I walk in to the convention center and am immediately called over to a table of two gentlemen sitting behind beards and a small table in front of a wall plastered in thirty or so screen printed poster designs. They question me about the bag I'm carrying, and then dodge small talk to really get down to their intrigue (Is that seriously Lincoln? Have you read that Vampire Hunter book yet!?) They hand me their card as I start to head towards the next table. They're from Minneapolis.


3). I'm walking back from the poster show towards one my usual coffee stops. The barista exchanges a glance of familiarity and starts in on my beverage while we yell our small talk over the band that's playing. It's a two piece. Drummer and a guitarist who is mastering preprogrammed sound waves through his feet. They're good. They finish their set and ask to the audience to, "Please support other Minneapolis bands. They fucking rule, and one of them is playing up next."

I'm starting to feel like this is a set up. Someone is fucking with me.

4). Impromptu hair cut. Needed to happen. The woman wielding the scissors is from- you guessed it, Minneapolis. Should have seen it coming. I'm starting to wonder if the spell of seeing Bill Murray left me in a Groundhog Day daze.

5). I'm walking briskly away from the hair salon in a daze of product scents and exhaustion. There's a guy standing in the grass that lies in between the sidewalk and the street, watching a band playing on the patio of the burrito place I'm heading towards. I smile as I nod as I pass and he calls out Hey, in a tone that is almost accusatory. I turn back over my shoulder and he pulls up his shirt sleeve exposing a duplicate tattoo of what's on my forearm. I turn back and appreciate it and we make small talk about our native Minneapolis. I check for secret cameras in the bushes as I continue on my way towards burritos.

I'm convinced it's all the damn Minnesotans traveling to one place that's responsible for the current state of Texas weather. It's getting cold. There's snow in the forecast.