Texas Joe.

Dear Diary,

I have developed a theory about people. There are three types of people in the world. People you would like to meet, people you would not like to meet, and people you have already met. This theory is as true as the heart that beats inside your chest. It works for every single person on planet earth (dead or alive). For those of you re-reading, contemplating, and siding-against this theory, let me explain further. You name any person that you can think of, and they will fall into one of the three categories: "people you would like to meet," "people you would not like to meet," and "people you have already met."

For example, Mark Twain would fall under "people I would like to meet." I can see us now, frolicking in a prairie, throwing clever remarks at each other's feet that are as welcoming as doormats. An afternoon of giggling, whispering, and taking our friendship to new levels.


Hillary Clinton would fall under "people I would not like to meet." This is simply due to a personality clash in my opinion. I have played it all out in my head already. I know if I asked her to hang out she would show up in one of her Laura Ingalls Wilder skirts, and I would be wearing an all blue sweat suit (because I don't like to suppress movement). We would order a pizza, and argue over pepperoni or sausage until I finally sided with her and agreed to get pepperoni. Then, once the pizza came, she would pick off all of the pepperoni's and dab the top of her pizza with a napkin. The conversation would commence, and I would be staring at the pepperoni's on her plate that she probably won't eat, but desperately needed. I would have to pretend to know something about government issues. She would have to put up with me trying to oil her joints because I am convinced she is a robot. Our time would end with me finally asking which state she is the secretary of, and one of those awkward handshake-hugs (clearly I went in for the hug, she, the handshake).



Bernie Conley would fall under "people I have already met." Once you are aware of the existence of a person, you make that decision in your head, "Yes, I would fancy an encounter with that person," or "No, I wouldn't come within a biscuit's throw of that person." Bernie Conley was someone I aspired to meet, and eventually had the honor. You can check his stats below..



My tendency to ramble has suppressed me again. This past weekend I had the opportunity to turn "someone I would like to meet" into "someone I have already met." I was a couple of sips into my cafe con leche at La Plaza de Zocodover when I heard someone shouting out what sounded like English words. My ears perked up like a dogs would when someone says, "let's go for a walk," and I began to pinpoint the sound. My eyes settled to the left of me on what seemed like an older fellow. He had a black cap placed in front of him, a guitar in hand, and a charismatic wobble as he sang what I later found to be the country twang of the late great Hank Williams.

I took one small sip of my coffee to test the temperature, and, deeming it safe, followed it with three large gulps to finish it off. With caffeine running through my bones, I did a quick Kramer-like twitch, and started walking towards the street musician. My mind was blank as I was walking towards him, I was simply trying to get closer to the music. I found, what seemed like, a sturdy tree to lean up against not fifteen feet away from him. After watching him for a full song I realized he was much younger than I first thought.

There were two kids playing with a soccer ball in front of him, and at times, when the ball would escape them and run across the plaza, they would stop and listen, and fake strum along with his guitar. He had a quiet guitar, and a big voice. His shouts bounced off the walls of the Plaza swooping back around in the form of an echo. He would give a courteous head nod as people slowly passed dropping silver centimos into his black cap.

As he was playing all I could think about was how surprisingly comfy this tree was to lean against. Is God making a new, softer kind of bark? Then I started to think, why would God try to improve the comfort level of bark? It's not like there is another God that is trying to undercut his prices, or attempting to make a better product. I mean, he does pretty much have a monopoly on creating living organisms.

When my wandering brain stumbled back into reality, I noticed that the street musician was looking directly at me. At first, I looked away not knowing if he could see me because I felt I was meshing with the tree really well. Then, I looked back at him, and he was still looking my way, but this time he had a big smile on his face. I thought the worst, "ohhh, real funny, it's going to be some tall joke about how I look like the tree (real clever street musician)." However, when I looked back he was looking away. He shook out one more song from his repertoire, and then sat down on the bench closest to him. As soon as he sat down I blurted out, "Where ya from?" He looked as if he was relieved to hear English as much as I was and responded with, "Texas, how about you?" I told him Wisconsin, and his eyes got a little bigger. "My old girlfriend had a place in door county, and I use to spend a lot of time up there." I responded with the always appropriate, "sweet." He started to put his guitar into the case, and my head was frantically searching for some talking points. "So, that situation in Haiti is looking pretty bad, huh?" "It's a pretty average day, no?" "Did you know crocodiles swallow rocks to dive deeper underwater?" All of these were deleted as quickly as they were manufactured. Finally, he came to the rescue with a simple, "Do you want to, uh, go get a beer?" I tried to play it cool, and settled with, "Why not?"

At first, I was a little skeptical. You can never trust strangers, or street musicians. I'm pretty sure I read that in a book somewhere. However, it is Spain, and the English feels good on my ears. I can actually have a conversation and not sound like C3PO. In Spanish I am limited to things like: I am hungry. Hello, how are you? It is nice out. I go to school here. Nice to meet you. In English, I can say things that are a little more rich in content. At that moment, I decided Joe was "someone I would like to meet."

We got to the local pub, O'Briens, and we shared a pint and some conversation. We ended up talking for a couple of hours, and he turned out to be a really interesting guy. His name was Joe, and he was from Texas. He told me that after he watched the movie Into the Wild he made a drastic change in his life. It inspired him to live out of his car for a year, and travel all the way up the west coast in a Chris McCandless-like fashion. He took all of the money he had in the bank (which wasn't much), his guitar, and a few pairs of clothes. Whenever he needed money he would go to the nearest city, fill out as many job applications as he could find, and start working until he could afford to move on. He worked as a pizza delivery guy in San Diego. A shoe salesman in Salt Lake City. A grocery clerk in Eureka. A chinese food delivery guy in Eugene. After a year went by of living in his car, he applied to the University of Oregon, and was accepted. As soon as he got into the program at Oregon, he applied for the study abroad program there. He was accepted, and was awarded grants to live in Barcelona and study Spanish literature. He graduated from the University of Oregon with a degree in Spanish Literature.

Now, he is living 20 minutes outside of Toledo, and teaching English at a nearby school. He is only in Spain until he has to go back to the University of Oregon to start graduate school. He travels to Barcelona, Madrid, Pamplona, and Toldeo frequently to throw his cap on the ground and perform some of Hank William's classics. Texas Joe is a vagabond, student, street musician, and a "person I have already met."


Always (an adventure!),
Coop