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There’s this bumper sticker that says, “I wasn’t born in Texas, but I got here as fast as I could!” After 35 years of wonderful small town solo optometry, I sold the practice and moved to Texas. Why start over now, and in Texas? There are many reasons:
- I’m only licensed in West Virginia and Texas.
- I can join the secessionist movement and work toward my lifelong goal of being the Emperor of my own country.
- My West Virginia concealed carry permit is accepted here. By the way, I don’t own a gun, just a permit, which I am not at all hesitant to show any villain who crosses my path.
- Who wouldn’t trade lush mountains and sparkling rivers for dust and tarantulas?
- I forgot to read the fine print of my practice sale contracts. Man, they sure had a tough non-compete clause.
- I hear they have two optometry schools around here, so now I can end up the old guy in the clinic as planned.
- They say everything in Texas is bigger, and I have always wanted a giant slit lamp.
- Six grandchildren in the state.
But, I didn’t realize that getting to Texas would be such an adventure. Texas is a long ways away—from anywhere. In my household, there is a standing joke that when we took the family eight hours away to the beach, we spent the first night in Beckley, W.Va., one hour away, because we were sick of driving.
After two solid weeks of packing, I was whipped and ready for a nap, but I couldn’t convince my wife, Renee, to let me chain my car to hers for a nice tow west.
So, with eyes bulging and a resting heart rate at 261bpm, we headed west. We stopped for an all-nighter in Nashville, but no one would sign me as the next Luke Bryan.
At the crack of 10am, we were back in gear and we made our way to lunch with Elvis in Memphis. You may recall that Elvis was once my patient. Well, he said he was an Elvis impersonator, and this was after Elvis’ supposed passing, but I thought, ‘what a perfect cover for Elvis … playing Elvis!’
I actually loved Graceland. Don’t knock it until you try it.
We were barely in the car to leave when the worst lightning storm I have ever seen hit. Me? I would have found a Holiday Inn. Renee? Well, she makes the Texas Rangers look like a Richard Simmons video. So, we plowed on at a blazing 10mph. It took us an hour to drive through it, and then the road was so straight I could tie down the wheel and catch a few winks.
In Arkansas, we hit another monster storm. I knew we were in trouble when I saw my old office knock a barn down east of Little Rock. But it’s OK; we never had a sign, so nobody could find us anyway.
After much travail and many blessings, I safely made it to Dallas with the love of my life, my collection of nine guitars. Hmm? Who? Oh, sure, Renee made it too.
Now we are ready for our next optometric adventure. For the first time since working for Dr. Bodie in 1980, I am going to be an employee. Chairside will gallop along with an all-new perspective. I have already warned my new boss.
I am also excited to continue my Texas food quest. First stop? I think I saw a Taco Bell around the corner. And where does a tough ol’ cowboy like me get a pedicure, anyway?
