It's November. It's Galvestson. It must be Lone Star Rally weekend. The best opportunity for lawyers and mutual fund managers to put on leather, bandanas, and sleeveless shirts that show off their multicolor tattoos of French postage stamps and not be looked at as odd. It is the one weekend they can get away with referring to their wives as biker bitches. It is rally weekend in Galveston.
It is the one weekend a year where everyone that lives in Galveston is willing to admit that the crowd is not too rowdy and the money is terrific, so we can put up with a little noise. Well, actually it is a lot of noise if you live in the right spot, but hey, it's just for a weekend. At least no one is puking in my yard or throwing beer cans out their windows.
