I’m Caught in a Houston Football Love Triangle.
Rodriguez: In that home, we used to stare out the window at night and she taught me how to admire and appreciate the “Moon.”
I’m involved in a tragic love story. Let me tell you about it. Back in 1996, I was in love with this girl, but her daddy decided to snatch her away like a thief in the night and move to Nashville when I wouldn’t buy his daughter a new house. I waited for her to come back, but she never did. She traded Houston sky scrapers and DJ Screw for the beautiful Tennessee countryside and country music. From what I hear she’s done well out there. She’s come close to the big time, but fell a yard short.
I have such fond memories of her. Actually, my parents introduced me to her when we moved to the Sharpstown area of Houston from Edcouch-Elsa, Texas. I was just five years old when I came to H-Town in the early 80s. My parents, like many who migrated up the coast from South Texas, tried to find something – anything – to make this city feel like home. It was hard because it was so different from what we were used to. The diversity, the pace of life, the sheer size is enough to make any Valley native just bolt down U.S. 59 South back to the comfort and warm, humid blanket of simplicity. But my family didn’t. They didn’t cower. In fact, they embraced the city and we stayed.
And that’s when I met her and fell in love for the first time. Her name was Houston and she was of the Oiler family. Her signature was the color she wore. Oh, I remember how beautiful she looked in Columbia blue.
“Luv ya’ blue,” I used to say to her, and she’d give me six kisses and an extra peck, just for the fun of it.
She had a beautiful home. In fact, it was so big, people in other parts of the country called it the “Eighth Wonder of the World,” but the locals had a better name for it – “The House of Pain.” We had some amazing times in there. She taught me how to dance – always so “Ernest” to teach me the Electric Slide. In that home, we used to stare out the window at night and she taught me how to admire and appreciate the “Moon.” Oh, and it had this beautiful “Lorenzo” White picket fence. Most of her family members who called it home had the coolest names, like “Bo”, “Haywood” and “Bubba.”
Ah, the memories.
When she left, it broke my heart into pieces and I couldn’t see anyone for more than 12 years. Not soon after she abandoned me, I left to Washington, DC to change the world, and when I decided that late night Whataburger was more important, I returned to Houston in 2005 to find an attractive new girl in the neighborhood. My friends and family back home would tell me about her when I was in DC. When I finally saw her up close, she was cute, but she wore dark, dark blue – opposite of what I was used to. She was really flashy, too. Her house had this retractable roof-top built by this company called Reliant, and I felt like she was just showing off. The only thing I liked about her is that she was named Houston, too, but she was of the Texan family.
She was persistent in her courtship and never gave up, and finally this year, I gave in, but mostly because I was lonely. Twelve years is a long time without getting some skin, if you know what I mean. Pig skin, that is.
Things aren’t the same, though, and I often find myself thinking about Houston (the first one) and the good times we had.
Here’s where things get especially hard for me in this heartbreaking tale.
Houston Oiler is coming into town this weekend and we’re both going to be at the same house party, which ironically is being hosted by my new girlfriend at her fancy retractable roof-top house. Why would she be there? Well, it’s because we have so many mutual friends and many of my family members haven’t “let go” and they all want to see her again.
I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid that my new love and my old one are going to get into a fight.
Houston Oiler’s daddy’s coming, too, I hear. I’m scared he’s going to still be angry at me and shoot me the finger. He can do that because $250,000 is chump change to him, but still, I think it’ll be awkward.
I mean, if they get into a fight, do I root for the girl who still has my heart and is never coming back? Or, do I root for the girl who is trying to win my heart and is my future, like it or not?
To hell with it – maybe I’ll just get drunk and DJ Screw both of them.
The opinions expressed in this commentary are solely those of Rolando Rodriguez.
Rolando Rodriguez is the managing editor of RedBrownandBlue.com and producer of the nationally-syndicated radio program, ¡Adelante América!, on Miami-based GLR Networks. Rolando is also a widely-published newspaper columnist, a contributing writer for New York-based, CATALINA magazine, and an accomplished multicultural communications executive in San Antonio, TX. He was raised in Richmond, TX. E-mail him at rolando@redbrownandblue.com.
November 19th, 2009 at 5:54 pm
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November 19th, 2009 at 9:17 pm
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November 23rd, 2009 at 3:17 am
Very funny!
July 11th, 2010 at 6:39 pm
Isn’t Fall Out Boy one of the bestgroupsto ever tour with Blink 182? Wasn’t their tour so great? They’re crazy!