Back to down town

On Friday, September 8 we packed. On 11th I was in my new office at 1100 Louisiana, down town Houston on the 14th floor unpacking. I have a beautiful view through my window, but have time only to stare at my other "Window" with my fingers on the key board. Someone asked me if I was getting a bigger office (than the place we moved from). Bigger office, big title, personal secretary, blah, blah, blah. What egos people are made of! Like some one said in a movie, rather “show me the money” for what I am worth.

Down Town: It was like a home coming after 5 years. It was sad, yet nostalgic to pass by the Enron building at 1400 Smith Street where I had worked for many years. The place wasn’t humming with energy like it used to. Exxon building 26th floor, Pennzoil building, 1 Allen Center, 3 Allen Center, Texas Commerce Tower 58th floor – I worked in all those buildings over the years. I used to jog on the trails by the Buffalo Bayou. Many Marathon runs, 10 K Rodeo runs, 20 Ks, Jingle Bell runs I ran through the city streets in the past. I used to see people feeding the pigeons at the park with the Reflection Pond in front of the city hall. I saw down town skyline change in the last three decades. There is Metro rail now. Buffalo Bayou has been cleaned up and spruced up for an evening walk. The Enron Field has become the Minute Maid Park where Astros play. There are many city dwellers living in lofts. City streets have been renovated. There are fewer beggars and homeless people (perhaps the City Government forced them to hide). I still saw one or two beggars or mental patients digging through trash cans, a sad revelation of human tragedy in a shiny, affluent city called the Space City.

I recognize the city, yet I feel like a stranger. There is a whole new generation of younger work force. I look for my old acquaintances during lunch break, but none to be found. The Enron army has scattered all over the earth and perhaps lying low to make a few more dollars to make up for the losses. Perhaps many have retired. Perhaps many have gray hair like mine. Perhaps a few even passed away quietly. It is my downtown, but I feel like Rip Van Winkle in this jungle of high rises, city dwellers, and young folks with pretty smiles trying to conquer the world