Between Heaven & Houston
48 Hours in the Heart of Texas
Pirate
Press Autumn 2026
Bad Decisions Make Great Stories
Researchers have long acknowledged that our DNA betrays us, not just in the form of evidence left behind at a crime scene, but in much more prosaic ways such as mitochondrial traits passed down by parents to their offspring. In my case, Victoria definitely gets her curly hair from Amanda but I'm most proud that she shares my love for the heavy metal band, Motley Crue.
Last year on a whim, I took her to see a Motley Crue cover band in Biloxi. It was a spur of the moment decision and both tickets were less than $100. To my complete surprise, the small venue was perfect and they put on a fantastic show. The tribute band really leaned into giving an authentic performance from their wardrobe all the way down to their makeup and stage presence. Victoria and I were at the front of the stage and it was a blast. Afterwards, the band members stuck around to chat with us and take photos.
It was such an unqualified success that when Motley Crue announced their new 2026 Return of the Carnival of Sins Tour I decided to look into it. The two closest shows were either Atlanta or Houston so I did what Ella Langley said and chose Texas. But first, I needed to pick myself up off the floor after I saw the ticket prices. Third row PIT seats were $2,530 apiece and front-row of the floor section were $1,920 apiece! Fortunately, I was able to get two Platinum Package seats on the Eighth Row for under $1000. I suppose my sensibilities have changed as I wouldn't have paid anywhere near that to see them again, but I wanted Victoria to enjoy the unique experience.
Prices have skyrocketed since I paid $15.50 in 1985.
I also feared that this might realistically be the last time to see Motley Crue in concert. None of the musical acts I grew up with in the 80s are spring chickens any longer and they're dropping like flies. Last year, we lost notables like Ace Frehley, Brad Arnold and Ozzy Osbourne and this year it's been Bonnie Tyler, Frank Beard and Dolly Parton. Death does not discriminate and Vince Neil almost wasn't around to participate in the new Carnival of Sins tour. In December 2024, he awoke to discover that the left side of his body was completely paralyzed from three mini-strokes and one large ischemic stroke. Doctors told him he might never walk again but he was determined to get back on stage and continue performing. He had to learn to walk again and then gradually progressed from a wheelchair to a walker and then to a cane before not needing any assistance. He said the whole experience was incredibly humbling, with people initially having to carry him to the bathroom since his legs didn't work properly. Neil stated he can now run and is, in his own estimation, "90 to 95 percent" healthy. However, he is a lot less ambulatory and certainly will not be bounding across the stage as he did in 1985.
Unbelievably, it's been 41 years since I'd last seen them in concert for their Theater of Pain tour in New Orleans. There's also a very unusual origin story about how I discovered Motley Crue that I've never publicly shared.
During the Summer of 1985, I became interested in Sherry, a high school classmate who was a friend of a friend. With her blonde hair and hourglass figure, she reminded me of the 1950s starlet Jayne Mansfield. The only problem was she was engaged to another guy, Ricky. Previously, she had been a real goody two-shoes but over the Summer had discovered how good it was to be bad and was fully embracing her new Libertarian lifestyle. She was also desperately unhappy with Ricky so she took on me and another guy, Mitchell, as her suitors while he was away. This ill-advised polyfidelity was the catalyst for my introduction to Motley Crue as one night Mitchell handed me his cassette tape of "Shout at the Devil." From the first few words of the eerie, apocalyptic intro track, "In The Beginning" I was hooked. Needless to say, during that long, hot summer I learned a lot about the female body and Motley Crue.
Of course, flames that burn the hottest also burn out the quickest so our torrid affair was extinguished within a few months. Despite my protests, Sherry went on to marry Ricky and Mitchell moved away. Sadly, none of this had a Hollywood Ending. She and Ricky divorced a couple years later and upon doing research for this article I discovered that they both passed away at age 51. Ricky died from an extended, undisclosed illness and Sherry succumbed to decades of drug abuse. Ironically, Mitchell now lives in Houston (not far from the concert we're attending) though it's understandable why I won't be inviting him to join us. Well, that and the fact it would make for a very awkward conversation with my daughter about how I knew him.
The week before the concert, I had been anxiously eyeing an area of low pressure in the steamy Gulf waters off Pensacola. Although there was a very mild probability of tropical cyclogenesis, I just knew that with my luck it would ruin the concert I'd bought tickets for seven months earlier. Making matters worse, it was being held at the Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion, an outdoor amphitheater that was immensely more vulnerable to the elements than the enclosed venues I was accustomed to visiting.
And while Edouard quickly intensified into a Tropical Storm, it just narrowly missed Houston. It roared ashore near Port Arthur with 90-mph winds and dumped 20 inches of rainfall overnight in an area normally accustomed to a monthly total of just 5 inches.
If Houston is overly risk-averse to flooding, it's with good reason. Extreme urban expansion, along with an elevation barely above sea-level and a nonabsorbent clay topography have created an environment highly resistant to proper water alleviation. In 2017, Hurricane Harvey made landfall on the Texas coast as a Category 4 storm. In a five-day period, it produced more than 50 inches of rain in the Houston area, flooding over 300,000 structures and causing more than $120 billion in damage. A total of 103 people died as a result of it, with 68 deaths directly tied to the storm and 35 from indirect effects in its aftermath.
More recently, on July 4th, 2025, the Guadalupe river rose 26 feet in just 45 minutes sweeping away most of Camp Mystic, a Christian girls' summer camp. Twenty-eight people died in the flooding: 25 campers aged 8–10, two counselors aged 18 and 19, and Dick Eastland, the Camp Director. He reportedly died while attempting to rescue the campers and his body was later found in an SUV along with those of three other girls. As of February 6, 2026, all but one of the 28 bodies have been recovered.
So, it wasn't surprising when we left for Houston and it was raining. However, this precipitation led us to accidentally discover that our CX-5 possesses Rain-Sensing Wipers. Previously the exclusive province of $100K BMWs and Mercedes vehicles, I was quite shocked to learn our humble CX-5 was equipped with them. But even more amazing was how accurate they were, seeming to know exactly when to start, speed up, or stop, depending on the rain volume. And with spotty showers almost the entire length of our 500-mile trip, they received quite the workout.
Our first stop was almost three hours later and was quite possibly the strangest location we've ever visited for a meal. We arrived at the LSU college campus ostensibly to try Torchy's Tacos, a beloved Texas taco chain. It's the only location for us between Lake Charles and Orlando and was literally across the street from Tiger Stadium (aka Death Valley). I didn't see Livvy Dunne, but the grounds were similarly breathtaking with 1,300 live oaks, some of which were estimated to be over 200 years old. Interestingly, the physical layout was developed by the same landscape firm responsible for Central Park in New York.
Near Beaumont, we left the modern, concrete confines of I-10 and began our rural route through East Texas ghost towns like Liberty, where nature has done its best to reclaim the deserted houses and rusted machinery abandoned after the early 20th century timber industry boom. But with such little commerce and population, the speed limit on those crude, country roads was an unbelievable 75 mph which felt decidedly illegal when the Interstate speed was limited to just 70 mph. Even so, I increased our speed to a quasi-legal 80 mph and remarked to Amanda how nice it was to drive that quickly with temporary impunity.
Although the concert was [technically] in the greater Houston metropolitan area, it was actually in The Woodlands, a purpose-built township 28 miles north of the city. It's an affluent area with neighborhoods referred to as "Villages" and a City Center with a central waterway patterned after San Antonio's popular River Walk. Given the compact nature of The Woodlands and living up to its name, all residents are within a ten-minute walk of one of its 151 city parks. It's also part of the Spring Creek Greenway, the longest, connected, urban forested corridor in the nation.
Proving it's cultural sophistication, the Woodlands also boasts it's own In-N-Out Burger but arriving at 5 o'clock on a Friday was clearly not an ideal time. The drive-thru line circled the building and inside it was wall-to-wall with hungry customers. I quickly instructed Victoria to grab the first available open table and then I waited in line. As we finally got our food and sat down, Amanda pointed out several people in Motley Crue shirts who were apparently also going to the concert.
Our last visit to Texas was in 2020 and I've spent a lot of that time imaging what my next meal from In-N-Out would taste like. I wondered if the elapsed time had inflated my perception of it and if it would really be as good as I remembered?
Trying to be as objective as possible, I still found my Special Order from the Secret Menu (Double-Double burger, Animal-Style fries and Neapolitan milkshake) to be pretty damn perfect, even if prices have climbed roughly 50% in the past six years. To illustrate this, I pointed out to Amanda the near flawless coverage of melted American cheese, caramelized grilled onions and special burger sauce on the fries: too much and it's a gloppy mess but not enough and they're overly dry and salty. To achieve this impeccable ratio— particularly during such a busy time— shows real devotion and craft to the food preparation. This is no McMess like you'd get down the street from Ronald!
Amanda and Victoria each opted for the "Flying Dutchman" also off the Secret Menu— a viral concoction where the meat and cheese are sandwiched between two whole grilled onion slices acting as an ersatz bun.
The only downside to In-N-Out? Social media and influencers have overblown this dining experience so dramatically that everybody goes there now for content and not the food. It's a genuinely good meal but hard to enjoy when it's so crowded and noisy that you can't even carry on a decent conversation with the person across from you. We've been going to In-N-Out for over a decade, long before it became trendy to do so because we sincerely enjoyed the food, but the clout-chasers have ruined it. Amanda suggested trying an off-peak time next visit to see if it was any better. I told her that with this location being open to 1:30 AM, I could only imagine how busy it would be after the concert!
I had wisely read the schedule for Motley's concert the night before in Dallas, so I knew that even though it started at 6:30 PM they wouldn't actually appear on stage until around 9:00 PM. This gave us plenty of time to get ready and travel to the venue. Of course, parking was the big issue, and we considered what would be the easiest and safest way to accomplish this.
Sadly, Houston is terrible when it comes to traffic: vehicular traffic is the fifth worst in the nation and, even worse, first in human trafficking (defined as the illegal trade of humans for sexual exploitation or forced labor) neither of which sounds particularly appealing. But what makes the abductions so tempting and easy is the close proximity to the Mexican border, a 2,000-mile line that despite Trump's best efforts is the most frequently crossed international perimeter in the world. In 2016, 313,000 people were victims of human trafficking in Texas. Of those, 234,000 were adults subjected to labor trafficking, and 79,000 were minors and youths subjected to sex trafficking.
So, for that reason I told Victoria never to leave my sight at the concert and that Amanda would stay behind at the hotel rather than driving us. Instead, we parked at one of the off-site lots and had a shuttle bring us in.
Paradoxically, the Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion resembles a huge circus tent, so it was the perfect spot to host Motley Crue's Carnival of Sins concert. And if the Houston Chronicle is to be believed, it's the second most-used amphitheater in the world.
Tesla and Extreme were the opening acts and since I didn't care about seeing them, we took our time standing in the quite-lengthy merch line. Souvenir shirts, at $50 apiece, weren't quite as bad as I expected and I bought one for myself and one for Victoria. She also wanted a black Too Fast For Love baseball cap, which at $40 seemed a little steep. However, the drinks were the real rip-offs; she turned 21 a month earlier and this was my first opportunity to *legally* buy her an alcoholic beverage. Unfortunately, they didn't have several of the drinks she wanted, so she asked for a Vodka-Red Bull. It rang up for $38 and I about passed out. She ordered a double, but neither of us expected it to be that much. I later told Amanda that if I only remembered the concert for one thing, it would be that damn overpriced drink. I never asked Victoria, but with us being in Texas, I at least hope it was Tito's and not some cheap swill like Taaka.
Motley took the stage promptly at 9:00 PM and the concert was so much better than I'd anticipated. With Vince's health issues and a 41-year gap from the last time I saw them, I didn't really know what to expect but they remain consummate entertainers and everything ran like a well-oiled machine. Over the past decade, we've taken her to huge tours like 1 Direction, Ariana Grande and Billie Eilish but this was her first rock concert and she was overcome with emotion, particularly during the Home Sweet Home sing-along.
Interestingly, of the 16-song set list they ignored every album post-Dr. Feelgood save for Primal Scream and the curious inclusion of Afraid. They closed the concert with Kickstart My Heart which just recently passed 1 Billion streams on Spotify, and I suppose is the Gen Z equivalent of platinum album sales. That's not bad for a 37 year-old song!
Leaving the venue, we got turned around and walked about a half-mile in the wrong direction before finally making our way back to the front where we were dropped off. Not surprising, there was no sign of our shuttle amidst the madness of 16,000 people all scrambling to exit at once. They were cramming into the shuttles like they were lifeboats on the Titanic and it seemed we might be stuck there. Victoria checked into getting us an Uber back to our car, but the damn surge pricing was $30 for a 1-mile trip which I flat-out refused to pay. We then decided to jog back but I wasn't really keen on going through some of those dark areas at that time of night. Instead, I spotted a brightly-lit electric Pedicab and inquired about a lift back to our car. He initially quoted me $30, but when I declined he immediately lowered it to $20 and I accepted. And that's how Victoria and I ended up at midnight in Texas in the most bizarre form of public transportation we've ever used.
The next morning, I awakened Amanda and Victoria early so we could make it to CorkScrew BBQ before they opened at 11:00 AM. It's one of only 4 barbecue restaurants in the U.S. to be awarded a Michelin Star and as an aficionado of that cuisine, I couldn't wait to try it. Fortunately, it was located in Spring, Texas, which was just about 10 miles south of us and on our way to Houston.
I foolishly thought that getting there thirty-minutes early would give us more than enough time to beat any crowds clamoring for their famous Red Oak-smoked barbecue. But just like the In-N-Out fiasco the night before, I had severely underestimated the culinary vultures, those digital parasites driven not by a genuine passion for the food, but by an insatiable, desperate need for social recognition, status and content.
The line was wrapped around the restaurant and into the street. I was so frustrated I immediately asked Amanda if she just wanted to go somewhere else? But she knew I had wanted to try it since they received their Michelin Star in 2024, so she convinced me to stay.
I reluctantly joined the end of the line and hoped it would go quickly while she and Victoria sat in the air-conditioned comfort of the CX-5.
Adding to my misery, Texas was experiencing the hottest September in history. As I stood in the street with nary a cloud or canopy over me, the 100-degree heat felt like a broiler oven. Beneath my feet, the blacktop was baking, radiating waves of sizzling heat that was cooking me from the bottom up while the sun was relentlessly beating down upon me. I felt like one of their Creekstone ribs slowly roasting on the pit. This disturbing mental image was further intensified by witnessing the bare shoulders of a hapless customer in front of me as his blossoming sunburn gradually took on the same vibrant pinkness as the smoke-ring in a perfectly-cooked brisket. I hope his meal was worth it because he was the recipient of a most unwelcome and painful souvenir.
After a staggering two-hour wait, I had finally made it in and was able to order at the register. Ironically, at this point I was so frustrated and angry that I really wasn't even hungry. Making small-talk to pass the time, a couple military guys had earlier asked me if I'd ever eaten here before? I quickly proceeded to inform that it is was indeed my first time and would also be my last! I was convinced that not even the best barbecue in the world was worth the ordeal again.
I ordered the chopped Brisket sandwich, Victoria got the sliced Brisket sandwich, and Amanda ordered the smoked Turkey sandwich. We also decided to share a pint of the Creamy Potato Salad and the Pit Smoked Pork beans so we could sample them. Additionally, Victoria also asked for extra jalapenos, pickles, onions, and barbecue sauce.
The brisket was very good with an excellent smoked flavor. It was slightly heavier and more robust than regular oak, but also cleaner and less pungent than hickory. It was immediately evident how barbecue novices could become infatuated with it after their first bite. Likewise, Amanda's turkey was so tender, juicy and flavorful that it tasted more like pork. I'm not a fan of turkey but it was easily the best I've ever eaten. As for the sides, the potato salad also had a unique flavor profile that none of us could put our finger on, and I understand their recipe is a closely-guarded secret. Unfortunately, the beans were quite disappointing, lacking the sweetness from brown sugar and molasses I've come to expect and enjoy.
For almost $100, it was the most unimpressive Michelin Star meal ever and looked like something that could be replicated at just about any gas station in Texas. Furthermore, I reminded Amanda that the barbecue from The Pig & Pint in Jackson, MS is comparable and not nearly as far or frustrating.
Afterwards, we left to see my favorite form of transportation and it was quite a juxtaposition from just a few months earlier when I was at the largest Ferrari dealership in the nation. Yes, Ferrari of The Woodlands is in my expert estimation the smallest authorized location in the entire world. At just 5,000 sq.-ft, it's the same size as many of the luxury homes in Houston's fancy River Oaks neighborhood. It also lacks the famous yellow prancing horse and instead substitutes a shiny silver logo and insignia. But unless you're particularly looking for it, it's easy to miss as it blends in with the other offices in the same building. However, this location was apparently chosen for it's close proximity to other businesses that aid and abet the sale of said Italian cars. For instance, right next door is the Mann Eye Institute which ensures that your vision is 20/20 so you don't get the six-figure prices misread and think that new $800,000 12Cilindri is just $300,000. However, if that shock does generate an untimely heart attack, One Medical is also a tenant so the unfortunate victim can be quickly treated. Once they're (hopefully) revived, they can be shuttled to the conveniently located Bank of Texas. Here, dealership personnel will only be too happy to assist the helpless customer in emptying their savings and mortgaging their home to purchase a new Ferrari.
But despite the diminutive nature of the location, it did provide the opportunity to spot three new Ferraris I've not yet seen in person before— a 12Cilindri, a Purosangue and a Roma. And as the names suggest, they are all vastly different models (and in similarly unusual colors).
The Purosangue is the oddest, being Ferrari's first SUV and painted in Verde British which us Yankees recognize as "British Racing Green." It's a $13,700 up-charge and paradoxically makes it look more like a Jaguar than a Ferrari. I'm a purist, so I hate the whole idea of a Prancing Horse-badged sport-utility, but Ferrari is most-definitely a for-profit organization. Unfortunately, the four-door, four-seat, four wheel-drive model has sold ridiculously well so it seems it will remain in the current vehicle lineup indefinitely.
Amanda even liked it, though that quickly changed when I informed her that it cost $767,000 to which she almost spit out her Diet Coke. I mentioned that just the fees on it alone would buy a very nice new $45,000 car. Of course, Don the Con gets his cut right off the top with the cleverly-worded "Tariff Contribution" for $36,078.85 which intentionally makes it sound more like a charitable donation that an actual financial penalty. But Ferrari ain't gonna pay it, so they just pass it along to their well-heeled customers. And you do indeed need to be swimming in cash to swing a $423,000 Ferrari that includes another $298,000 in questionable upgrades like Black Ceramic Exhaust Pipes for $2,607. I wonder if anyone will believe that the carbon buildup and soot on our Mazda's tailpipes is "Black Ceramic?"
I asked A.I. to draw a picture of the Purosangue next to our CX-5 for reference and I regret to admit that I can't find any detail that makes it $700,000 better than our Mazda. For me, it's the First-Class ticket analogy: People who spend a fortune for a First-Class ticket on an airplane might have nicer amenities than those in Coach, but they both still get to their destination at the same time.
Next up is the Roma, Ferrari's entry-level vehicle. For almost any other manufacturer, "entry-level" would imply a negative connotation, but here it means a starting price of $280K and a 612hp twin-turbo V8. The name and retro design are meant to evoke images of Italy's capital city in the 1950s and 1960s. Hence, Ferrari developed a new color for it known as "Celeste Trevi" and the mesmerizing hue draws inspiration from the aquamarine water in Rome's Trevi fountain.
Lastly, we have the 12Cilindri, which conveys it as Ferrari's newest twelve-cylinder model. Personally, I think it's the most beautiful current design and I love the historical cues borrowed from the 1968 Daytona. Appealing to Ferrari traditionalists, it eschews everything unnecessary (All-Wheel-Drive, Electrification, Forced Induction, etc.) for a properly-distilled Gran Turismo with 819 naturally-aspirated horsepower that revs to a thrilling 9500rpm. There is no Ferrari presently available that better represents the spirit and ethos of the brand than this. And to further drive the point home, a unique, gated six-speed model, the Manuale, is expected in the second half of 2027.
Look closely and you can even spot the special deer whistle embedded in the lower front lip. It's part of the limited-edition $1,845 Texas package that also includes a Confederate flag, a gun rack and a six-pack of Lone Star beer. (Edit: Okay, it's really a parking camera so the pricey nose-piece doesn't scrape on sharp inclines.)
There's also a cautionary tale about a current employee at this dealership named Paul Frame. Back in 1995, he rose to national prominence when he received the first F50 in North America. As the CEO of Seitel, a Houston-based seismic data company, he reportedly had a $5 million annual salary and was very active in the Ferrari scene. But by 2001, his name was back in the news and it wasn't for good reasons.
According to the SEC filing and various news articles, he was strapped for cash after renovating his $15 million mansion so he embezzled $750K to pay a variety of expenses. First and foremost, was a lawsuit brought against him by his former mistress who claims he mistreated and tortured her. However, more salacious reports point to a very kinky relationship that purportedly featured copious amounts of cocaine, a pair of handcuffs, him in a bear costume, and her in a Goldilocks outfit. Allegedly, she was paid $400k in hush money while he spent $300K for a Ferrari race car and $148K on a home alarm system. He initially attempted to claim those amounts were for such business-related items as "Legal Fees" and "Sponsorships" but company filings soon unearthed his ruse.
In 2005, Frame was sentenced to 63 months in prison and ordered to pay Seitel $750,000 in restitution. He was found guilty on five counts of fraud that included mail fraud, wire fraud, money laundering and making a false statement to the Securities and Exchange Commission. Due to the severity of the charges, he was required to serve the full sentence.
Regrettably, the F50 he forfeited would have made an excellent post-prison investment. Despite an initial MSRP of $560,000, one in the same Giallo Modena livery as his recently sold for a staggering $14.575 million!
Today, he lives modestly in Conroe, a small suburb 40 miles north of Houston, but a world away from the hedonistic lifestyle he once so enthusiastically embraced.
If nothing else, 79 year-old Frame certainly has some great memories!
Finally, the last unique meal we tried in Houston belonged to Nando's, a South-African chain that specializes in Portuguese flame-grilled chicken. It's huge in the U.K. but largely unknown in North America where it courts a tremendous celebrity following. Surprisingly, there's not a single location in Florida so, again, it was either Texas or Georgia for us.
I opted for the Peri-Peri Power Bowl, which features a base of ancient grains that looked to me like brown rice but was said to be quinoa and bulgur wheat. It also included a scoop of mixed seeds such as pumpkin and sesame, followed with avocado slices, kale, hummus, feta, tomato, cucumber, and an onion salad. It was topped with two charbroiled chicken breasts, and was, as I proudly boasted to Amanda, the healthiest meal I've ever consumed on vacation. It was also ridiculously delicious and filling, proving that wholesome food can taste good, with a perfect combination of lean protein, essential fats, and nutritious superfoods. I also opted for the limited-edition Peri-Peri Saka sauce which consists of tomato, garlic, smoked paprika, and African Bird's Eye Chillies. On Nando's Heat-O-Meter it ranks as "Medium" and was just spicy enough to be enjoyable without being uncomfortable. It's also from the same family as the Tabasco pepper and has a Scoville Heat Range of 175,000 to 200,000, while Tabasco and Cayenne have a lesser rating of about 50,000.
For beverages, we tried the Rubro Peach Tea, which is a naturally caffeine-free iced tea from South Africa. As for entrees, Victoria got a Chicken Breast Sandwich and Amanda selected the Chicken Thigh Skewers. We enjoyed everything we ordered, but my only regret was the "Naughty Nata" dessert. Officially known as "Pastel de Nata" it's a traditional Portuguese egg custard tart that sounded great on the menu, but I was underwhelmed by the taste and small size. To me, it was no better than a Little Debbie Apple Fritter.
This trip to Houston has been our first family vacation since Victoria's car was totaled last November and Amanda's was totaled in January. And after nearly a year of unemployment, Amanda finally secured a position in the Singing River Hospital network, an objective she's been chasing since 2021. It's been a very long, frustrating, and tumultuous journey but it finally seems like she's where she belongs. Likewise, Victoria has moved out and gotten her own house so I really enjoy these rare times we spend together as a family. I told her that I received Motley Crue's Dr. Feelgood album for my 21st birthday and she actually got to see them for her 21st, so it was eerily predestined nearly 4 decades ago.
Sure, the tickets were outrageous and everything was hella expensive in Houston, but you can't put a price on memories and I'll always cherish this experience with her. 💖
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