Glovebox Medley No. 1: San Antonio Scraps
Glovebox Medley No. 1: San Antonio Scrap
The stuff that didn’t make the brochure—but still stuck to our shoes.
Let’s be honest: by the time Abbey Road rolled around, the Beatles were basically done. John wanted out. George had secretly written all the best songs. Ringo was playing drums with a cigarette in one hand and his resignation letter in the other. And Paul… well, Paul was busy trying to keep the band together by turning a bunch of unfinished junk into a masterpiece..
And somehow, it worked.
They took the scraps—half-songs, bridges, throwaways—and handed them over to George Martin, who stitched them into a wild, operatic finale known as the Abbey Road Medley. It was messy. It was brilliant. It was kind of desperate. And it still slaps.
That’s the spirit behind this new recurring feature.
Because every trip has leftovers—tiny scenes, weird encounters, half-memories, and overheard gems that don’t quite deserve a full post but still sing when you line them up just right.
Welcome to Glovebox Medley.
A little bit of everything I forgot to tell you—until now.
“Amarillo by Morning” All the Way to the Crockett
Our Uber driver had been in the States for 25 years, originally from India. Friendly guy, smart, low-key. Nothing out of the ordinary—until he hit play.
Classic George Strait, loud and proud, the whole ride.
Texas remains undefeated in being… Texas.
Wandering Into History (Like We Owned the Place)
You don’t have to book a room to borrow a hotel’s lobby—and in San Antonio, that’s a goldmine.
We slipped into the Menger like we belonged there. Nobody stopped us. Nobody cared.
Inside, it’s less modern amenity, more living museum: Babe Ruth, Teddy Roosevelt, antique phones, and a photograph documenting a handshake deal for… a shipment of mohair.
(I don’t know what that means either, but it felt important. should have taken a picture)
Hotels as Time Machines
We think of hotels for their pools or breakfast bars, but places like the Menger are something else entirely:
A chance to stand in the same spot where dignitaries, desperados, and dairy barons once stood.
And maybe cheaper than a mid-range Hyatt if you check the rates at the right time.
San Fernando Cathedral: Mostly Closed, Slightly Chaotic
The light show was canceled.
The doors were locked.
A storm was rolling in.
And We witnessed a Meth head getting into a minor screaming match with a homeless woman—who was then run off by a roving gang of skateboarders.
Not San Antonio’s best moment, but the walk itself? Peaceful, moody, memorable.
Jamie loved the architecture. I liked the way the old stones held onto the heat even after dark.
Closed for the Season (or the Storm, or Just Because)
Everywhere we went, something was under construction. Temporarily shut down. Just missed it.
We’ve decided this is our signature move—vacationing slightly out of sync with the world.
Houston Street: A Ghost Town with a Facelift
Gorgeous buildings.
Lit signs over shuttered doors.
Restaurants we wanted to try, all closed earlier than they should’ve been.
Still, walking it at night felt like time travel. Empty streets, lit windows, that old Western movie vibe you can’t plan for—but hope to stumble into.
Closing Thought:
Some trips are about the checklist.
This one was about the leftovers—and they were damn good.
Also`` this guy drinks and smokes for free everywhere he goes.
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