Andy on the Bridge

I took some time off last week so that I could spend some time with Andy, my 7-year-old son. I bought tickets to the Texas A&M -South Carolina State game in order to take him and give him a taste of being a part of Aggieland. Some might question my motives, but let’s just assume my motives are pristine and clean like the wind-driven maroon and white snow.

Before we could go to the game, we had to make the 12-hour trek across Texas to my father’s home in Brenham, Texas (see the photo in the banner of this blog). Since I wasn’t feeling well, I decided to break up the drive to my father’s abode. We stopped in Waco, TX for the night on Thursday, which gave us time to kill on Friday morning. My plan: take Andy to the Dr. Pepper Museum and the Texas Rangers Museum (which is dealing with the law enforcement agency, not the sports franchise.)

I also wanted to take Andy to the Waco Suspension Bridge. Driving through Waco for years, it has been a desire to stop and just walk across the bridge while taking a few pictures. Having Andy as my main subject helped. After looking at the pictures with Andy and the ones without Andy, I like the ones with Andy much better. He gives me a great excuse to take pictures. He also encourages me to take photos of the important things as well: like the turtles in the water, the ducks swimming in the Brazos River and the Geese sunning themselves along the bank. I’ve taken pictures of wildlife before, but only because I lacked a better subject.

As for the bridge itself, it was rather boring once we got there. Basically it was a hot structure that went across a green river and lacked anything really to offer in the way of interest, besides the turtles in the water. There were three homeless men sitting on a bench at the entrance to the bridge. I thought about taking a picture of them with the following caption in mind: “t.u. Grads.” But I really didn’t want to attract their attention.

After walking the bridge, we headed over to the Dr. Pepper Museum where we paid $12 for both of us to enter into a museum all about Dr. Pepper. In fact, one of Andy’s complaints was just that: “All they have in here is Dr. Pepper!” I was hoping that it would enhance his appreciation for the soft drink, but for the rest of the week, every time he saw an ad or a billboard about Dr. Pepper, he would lament “Not Dr. Pepper!”

I tried to tell him about how they made it, about the man who named it after the father of the girl he loved, about the artesian well found on the first floor, about growing up drinking Dr. Pepper, etc. but nothing worked. In fact, when we got into the soda shop where they mixed the sodas right in front of us, he didn’t want a Dr. Pepper, he wanted a Root Beer. I don’t think Andy will ever drink another Dr. Pepper again, much to my chagrin.

I won’t bore you with the details of our excursion to the Texas Rangers Museum. Let’s just say he was more interested in buying snow globe from the visitors shop than he was in anything the Texas Rangers Museum had to offer… unless, it was one of the $35 toy guns from the Rangers gift shop. I wasn’t going to buy him a gun from the gift shop. Not that I’m opposed to toy guns. But I bet I can get a better deal for a better toy gun on line.


2 thoughts on “Andy on the Bridge

  1. When my family started spending summers in Maine in 1969 we had to bring 2-3 cases of Dr. Pepper to (somewhat) last the kids 6 weeks; no one up here carried it–almost no one had ever heard of it. Today it’s ubiquitous; even Burger King/McDonald’s have finally surrendered. It’s always the first soda to disappear at kids’ parties and at church.

    Never fear. Andy’s taste buds will mature eventually.


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