I don’t like change.

I’ve lived in the same place for almost eight years, the longest I’ve ever lived in one spot. But I’m moving now and so the whole thought of changing — my living space, what’s next door, what street I turn on…is freaking me out. The only thing I like less than moving is dental surgery. I’ve had major 14-hour medical surgery before and I prefer that to moving. You go to sleep, you wake up, and it’s all over.

I think a moving company could make a fortune if they sedated you, moved you, and you could just wake up in the new place with all your stuff put up and pictures hanging on the wall.

So, seriously, I need some consistency in my life right now.

And that means you, yes, restaurants.

I dislike like it when you start changing your hours, menus (well, I like seasonal changes but don’t drop my favorite dishes) and sometimes just pulling up stakes.

I was not thrilled last week when dining at Ava Kitchen & Whiskey Bar and my favorite waiter said they were closing. I always liked the Schiller Del Grande concept of two restaurants in one two-story space. Walk in the door of the stunning space and decide, hmmm, do I want to eat pizza upstairs at Alto Pizzeria or a steak downstairs at Ava?

But all is not lost, some of the staff and some of the dishes at Ava will move upstairs to Alto. I just hope they take the artichoke dip and the buttermilk dipped fried chicken sandwiches with them.

Carrabba's many changes

At least I’m preparing for the Carrabba changes. Sitting outside the Mister Car wash on Kirby Drive the last few months I watched the build-out for the new Carrabba’s, which will move next door, and allow the old space to be turned into a new upscale Italian eatery called Grace’s.

I’m feeling much better about these changes since dining at Carrabba’s new Mia’s a block over. The country store kitsch is a bit much but you can’t argue with free soft-serve ice cream and fried chicken fingers with jalapeño gravy.

Oh, and the fact that Johnny Carrabba himself came by the table and bought us a round of beers. And no, he had no idea who I was. A friend of mine said he sent him a piece of cake just as a thank you for coming in, so I’m guessing he’s just a really smart guy who knows how to keep customers coming back.

But there are some changes that are just a little too much. Even if they are changes for the better.

Blanco's big changes

I’ve been eating at Blanco’s Bar & Grill for a couple of years now. When I tell people it’s one of my favorite lunch/burger joints they have two reactions: One, they thought it was just a dive bar with country music that didn’t serve food, or, two, they’ve driven by it a hundred times but didn’t know what the heck it was.

So here’s the rundown: Blanco’s is an old-time country dive. It’s that ramshackle powder blue building that sits on a huge shell-crushed lot on West Alabama at Buffalo Speedway in the shadow of high-rise apartments and new office buildings. You stumble across the parking lot to the creaking stairs and pull on the dangling glass doorknob to enter the darkened bar that used to be home to eclectic country memories, stuffed animals decorated with odd things and restrooms that were hidden by an ancient door covered in band posters.

Originally built as a daycare center some 40-plus years ago, the building has been a honky tonk for decades, first as Hondo’s and then as Blanco’s when Barry E. DeBakey, son of the late heart surgeon Michael DeBakey, bought the business 30 years ago.

Yes, they have boot scootin' and bands at night but they also have cheap, hearty food from 11 a.m. to closing. I’ve always said that the burgers are the best because they haven’t cleaned the grill in decades, and they make a heck of a retro club sandwich on white bread with a lot of mayonnaise. Meat loaf specials and fried fish on Fridays. Get the idea? It’s not a foodie haven, but it’s darn tasty.

When DeBakey died in 2007 he left the business to his son and the manager. And things stayed pretty much the same until the last few months.

That’s when they started to spiff the place up.

First, there was some new paint. Then the threadbare chairs were replaced and new plastic checkered tablecloths appeared.

And then, one day, there was light.

“Wow,” said a burly construction worker walking in. “What’s with the light?”

I had no idea there were two windows on the west side of the building. They had been blown out during Hurricane Ike and boarded up since 2008. But now they have been replaced.

A female patron commented that it was so bright now that she could see the food she was eating. I think she was joking. And the original commenter asked: “What’s next? Gourmet pizza on the menu?”

Gone are a lot of the stickers, photos and memorabilia from days gone by. Some of the Christmas lights have left although the hats and cut-off ties from Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo committee chairs have moved to inside the dance floor. The stuffed coyote is still there, sans his Mardi Gras beads and moved from his spot atop an antique cigarette machine, as is the slightly moth-eaten American bison by the beer cooler.

And the restrooms? Well, now there’s a sign on the door and a handle, although the dangling doorknob is still there. And inside the ladies’ room there’s new paint and new fixtures. It’s a little alarming, although it is nicer, I must admit.

Clearly Blanco’s was overdue for a facelift. I’m getting used to all the changes but what I miss most are the two deer heads over the bar. Oh, they’re still there. But patrons used to throw beer can pull-tabs over the antlers and one of them sported ruby red wax lips. But no longer.

Although they did just put an old wooden picture frame around one of the heads. Which is kinda cool and is starting to make the place look like the old, weird, cool place I love.