Holiday Pressure

Parties, presents, decorations, Black Friday, Cyber Monday, Giving Tuesday. Pressure, deadlines. Get those gifts in the mail, make your plans for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year's Eve.

Really I don't feel pressure to do much of anything. I resent all the 'last chance' sales filling my inbox for black Friday (extended!) and giving Tuesday. I never give on giving Tuesday. We have an organization here in Austin called I Live Here/I Give Here. They organize this one day of giving in the spring. All kinds of matches and contests arranged. But they, of course, take a cut. I refuse to give in this time. Just say, sorry, I'll give money in a calm and unhurried manner when I am ready. And don't get me started on GoFundMe and facebook giving. I was once discussing online with a local director of a non-profit long ago about the reasons that stymy fundraising. I suggested 'donor fatigue.' You are wearing me out emailing, calling, mailing expensive promotional pieces. Often without regard to what I've already given or committed to give. So, that's my bah humbug of the season.

Today was just the perfect weather for tennis. I had on sweatpants, a sweatshirt and another jacket. Cool and sunny. No wind at all. Never sweated, never took off the jacket. Later in the day, it warmed up and we walked to the post office and the drug store. Barely needed a jacket. Besides doing those errands, I stopped at the grocery store on the way home from tennis. (And purchased salad dressing, salsa, jalapenos, tortilla chips, an apple, two bananas, some guacamole.) I have to drive to tennis because the club where I play is four miles away. I got the bad news that the two younger women we play with on Tuesday are going to quit playing with us to do an activity that they think will make them better players. Ha. My other companion, who is 88, was not pleased but looked resigned.

Except for the shopping errands, I didn't accomplish much today. I'm hoping to do some cleaning tomorrow and then get out some Christmas decorations. Maybe. We have evening plans every other night until Sunday. I just keep procrastinating. There is more time to get these things done, so I take it. I've planned some trips, though. I wonder how many more years we will be up for trips? Especially to Europe?

And that's my ramble. I'm going to get stuck into my finances and bill paying for an hour or so.

From Too Little to Too Much

I had written about it before but I spent twenty minutes searching for the words. Amazingly, although I wrote the words over ten years ago for WEB posting, I did find them. One day, way back then, I was feeling pressure to enjoy all the books, magazines, newspapers, movies, TV and such that was readily available to me. Not unlike, um, now.

Today some Holidailies participants are donating to First Book, an organization that gets books into the hands of children who would not otherwise have them. As I teeter (on a stack of books) at the other end of the scale, it isn't that I don't remember being on the other end of that spectrum. I do. I never want to be without words, pictures and tunes. Without input. I especially don't want to be without books.

But I still wonder when it went from too little to too much.

Here's what I wrote in 1997:

MEDIA ASSAULT

It's a media-rich world. There's never been more to read, to see, to hear. Or is it an assault, a river that is roaring by with no time for us to grab something and understand how to stay afloat?

I keep trying to decide when the input went from not enough to too much. I still remember when I was a kid, hungry for input. We never had enough books to suit me and I even 'played school' with some ancient school books that had the scribbles left there by my own mother and aunt. When we went to the State Fair in Dallas, we'd collect a sack full of automobile, agricultural and kitchen appliance brochures. We'd carefully review the bright pictures and fill our dreams with them. Once the Sears catalog had been put to use by my mother, I made paper dolls out of the clothing ads and gave my cutout kids the latest toys. (One of those thirty- or forty-year-old catalogs or a sack of those brochures would be an interesting view of my world at the time.) In those days, my mother bought a few magazine subscriptions with our meager budget. It was usually LIFE or LOOK, but once she tried to order Harper's but got, instead, Harper's Bazaar and our lower middle class household (where we mostly wore clothes made from Simplicity patterns) suddenly had a monthly view of the fashion world. A handsome high school boy delivered the 'Sherman Democrat' on foot. It was a skinny paper, but it was the only one we usually saw. I remember sitting on the porch waiting for his arrival. I can't remember, however, if I wanted to read the paper or was interested in how to get a paper route when I got old enough. (I don't think they ever let girls do it in my time, though.)

The TV signed off at midnight or so, I think. We did have all the major networks, but that's it. No remotes and how much fun is surfing three channels anyway? When we got our first TV we still lived on the farm. Mother bought it with bingo winnings at the American Legion hall. My favorite show was 'Sky King.' Hit Parade or something like that had settings and singers do the top songs each week and had to try to keep 'Davy, Davy Crockett' fresh for most of a year. (I got the girl's version of the coonskin hat which was a more feminine rabbit fur and happily the decidedly unfeminine pocket knife.)

In college (North Texas State, now U of NT), I worked in the campus bookstore. Suddenly there were plenty of books and magazines around, the huge library was close by on campus. I was pretty broke, but money wasn't necessary to get input. We had some lulls in the textbook department where I worked. When there was no one to wait on for long periods of time, we could read books and magazines and then put them back on the shelf. It was during this time that I became addicted to 'The New Yorker'--an addiction that I haven't been able to shake to this day. Often, I had to actually pay the quarter of fifty cents (I know it was less than a dollar then) so I could take the magazine home and finish it. Doesn't sound like much, but I think I only got seventy cents an hour. Fortunately, they let us run up a bill and charge everything until payday.

A little over twenty years ago, I was still watching a few channels on a black and white TV, and still couldn't really afford as many books as I would have liked to have around, if unread. At this time computing wasn't exploding and changing so fast either and I thought I might one day feel masterful in my work. I could only dream of having my own computer. An independent San Antonio station picked up a nightly soap opera about this time called 'All That Glitters.' Norman Lear had followed his 'All in The Family' success with 'Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman.' Less successful and very edge, this was followed by 'All That Glitters.' It never even got aired by a network, I don't think. I bring it up because we watched it every night, enthralled at its radical concept: women were powerful in society and men were weak. From this premise, it was easy to put episodes together, the most everyday thing becoming twisted. I bring it up because we had so little to choose from compared to the late '90s, but here was this gem, too radical for its time. Actress Linda Gray was there, pre-Dallas, playing a woman who used to be a man in an upside down world. Sometimes we think we dreamed this TV show since so few people saw it. In fact, I recently spent a half hour or so on the WEB looking for something else on this show. Found a wonderful story about the making of 'Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman.' But 'All That Glitters' seems to have vanished from consciousness. In contrast, I have seen one 'X Files' from beginning to end and no complete 'Ellen' shows. But I saw many episodes of a TV show that seems to have never existed.

One day in 1977 we bought a color TV. It was small, but had a good picture. Tennis was starting to be televised more widely (i.e. not just on public television) and Wimbledon was on. I could actually almost see the ball on this TV. I carefully planned to be in front of the TV for tennis events then. In 1997, I did not manage to see more than a couple of shots of the French Open. This in spite of having a color TV in almost every room. As I write this, a tiny Sony with a two-inch screen is showing a crisp picture of this year's Wimbledon. I imagine I'll soon be distracted from watching rain delays and tapes of the week's matches, I'm sure, by some other activity like this WEB page, or doing my real work---my work machine is sitting nearby as an affront. In fact, we have several dozen channels of cable, mostly unwatched and mostly deserving it, I guess. When we surf, we end up on 'The Simpsons,' an old black and white movie or the history channel; sometimes the sound track is a selection of jazz and classical CDs. Late at night, we might be taking in British sit-coms or old episodes of 'Perry Mason.' We are, however, usually asleep in our chairs as they play. We've recently discovered the Mike Judge cartoon, 'King of the Hill' but funny as it is, it's hard to get in front of the TV at the appointed hour.

Today I own unlistened to CDs, unread books and the unread papers and magazines are piling up. Meanwhile there is information on the WEB that I'm dying to read and study. I simply don't know where to start. I think people who aren't readers, who aren't naturally curious, are happier today than I am because they aren't torn about what information to consume next. Sure maybe surfing channels is getting more confusing, but as an input hungry person, I'm truly overwhelmed. It reminds me of a robot in some movie without, for me, a name (because I've watched it in randomly ordered fifteen minute increments from cable and missed the title). 'Input!' says Johnny Five in a pleading voice. Then he consumes every book in the house and sits up all night consuming TV. I want to do that, but I keep falling asleep or daydreaming. I don't have the robot's stamina.

Well, off to read a book or a magazine or surf the WEB or look at that great shot Venus just made!

Is that funny? I still feel this way, overwhelmed by books and magazines and media. Things once precious to me, still precious to me that I have so much of that I literally can't consume them. Books still call out to me and, when I listen, satisfy something deep inside me. I feel for people who don't desire books and information. And I feel for kids who don't have enough books! Once I was that kid. Somewhere along the line, I reached a tipping point. I'm not sorry either. My worst fear is to be trapped somewhere without words. Even without Internet access or TV, I could be happy if there were enough books and magazines. Better too many than too few.

Shopping for Charity

No, I didn't buy a puffy jacket for a dog for charity. And this entry is not about the Holidailies Charity Project. That was yesterday. We don't have a dog anymore anyway. I shot this picture last night at The Domain (an upscale Austin shopping/eating/residential street plunked down beside Mopac). And I don't even exactly get why this was in the Victoria's Secret window.

We had been at the Ralph Lauren store. They gave us a lot of free food and booze and they gave 15% of the cash register receipts to the Long Center for the Performing Arts. FFP bought me a sweater that is the lightest cashmere I have ever seen. It was wildly expensive (to me) even though it was marked down and marked down again at the register for some reason, but, well, you know one of our favorite charities got a few bucks. And I needed a new black cashmere sweater. Very versatile. It's amazing how many meals, parties, hotel stays and how much stuff that we purchased over the years because someone had kicked it in for a charity auction. You feel a little less beneficent when some store is kicking in just a percentage or a restaurant is giving a percentage of the gate because, after all, they are still making a profit probably. Your expenditure is not equivalent with donation. With auctions, businesses and individuals give stuff to the charity and then you buy it and voilà the charity has cash. Still you could just turn the coin over to the charity.

I never feel bad about these exchanges for charity, really. The charity gets some money. I get stuff or meals or whatever and have some fun. I look around our house and see a handmade chair, a Christofle vase, another beautiful vase, a handmade coffee table, a modern round table and a number of other things that we bought at charity auctions. In my front yard there is an oak tree that has grown to be over twenty feet tall since we bought it in a twenty-gallon container from a charity auction and planted it. A charity tree.

Last Saturday we were invited to go to an event for free because a friend bought a fancy pants sponsor table. We felt compelled to bid on some massages, a couple of hotel stays and some restaurant coupons in the auction. We couldn't bid on stuff because we are downsizing.

It's a silly way to get money for charities in a way but the fêtes, galas, store parties, 'percentage goes to charity' restaurant days and silent and live auctions continue. Everyone knows it would probably be better to separate commerce and charity, that somehow more good might be done. But it is better than nothing, I suppose. Better than expecting people to open their wallets and get nothing in return. Caterers, liquor companies, businesses promote themselves and some charities scrape off a marketing dollar or two. No harm done? Probably not much.

The Book Signing

Charity is something that my husband (known as FFP here) and I consider carefully, giving our time and coin to things that we think can make the world a better place. Since today's writing prompt is "What are your ideas for the Holidailies Charity Project, and which organization would you choose?" I thought I'd talk about a group that has amazed me. Whether this group receives the benefit of the collective capability of the Holidailies group or not, I love talking about it.

And since writing prompts have received some ink (or pixels) in the Holidailies space, I'd like to talk about kids and writing and what for one girl was the 'mother of all prompts.'

The group I'm writing about is an Austin-based group whose purpose is to "teach children the language skills necessary to become the authors of their own lives." Wow, that sounds like something an inveterate blogger could get behind, huh?

Yes, if you have the time go to the Badgerdog Literary Publishing site and see what they do in detail. Basically, they take accredited writing instructors to at-risk kids in after school programs. The kids learn to write and to publish, creating a literary journal that has readings and signings. (They sell their first North American publishing rights to the group for copies of the journal.) I've got to say that going to a reading and seeing a little boy's family snapping pictures of him reading poetry that he wrote does my heart good. Seeing kids signing their pieces in Youth Voices in Ink (while having some cookies and lemonade like the little girl shown above) is an amazing thing.

But back to writing prompts. FFP (who is on the board of directors for this group) likes to tell a story he heard about a young lady who was having lots of difficulties in school. She wasn't succeeding at anything in the system. Placed in a Badgerdog after-school program she was given a writing prompt one day and she put pen to paper and didn't look up for a long, long time. That writing prompt was quite simple. It was: "My mother...." Writing is healing. Sometimes all we need is that prompt. We touch ourselves and we touch others.

I'm totally behind getting some of the scores of Holidailies contributors to contribute a small amount to do something for the community. I have contributed to groups who enhance their visible giving power by assembling a group of people to give one larger gift. I'm proud to have contributed to the Long Center for the Performing Arts here in Austin through such a group. It's a lot of fun to be a part of something that is bigger than what you could do alone. Chip mentioned literacy as a possible area of interest for a charity to choose. Reading is a great skill. Life-changing even. Writing? Definitely life-transforming. As many of us who 'only blog' know well.

The Gala Fete Ball Performance Dinner

This picture is a couple of years old. But it is an example of one of the many 'events' we attend in the course of a year. They are intended to (a) raise money for good causes; (b) focus attention on the work of various organizations; and (c) jolly up the patrons of said groups.

We attended one night before last. I don't have any pictures. It wasn't black tie. As this one clearly wasn't either. (If it had been, FFP would certainly have been tuxedoed.) This most recent one was at the Driskill Hotel. As was the one where we took this picture.

And lest the suspense be killing you...yes that is Carol Channing with FFP. The event was a fundraiser for Austin Cabaret Theater and she performed.

I remember when we were younger and poorer. When we finally had some money to invest in charity and its requisite gala/fete/ball/fundraiser/performance/dinner events, I remember having some joy in going to them and even in helping plan one called Black Tie and Tennis Shoes to benefit Women's Athletics at UT. And it's not that I never have fun at these events. I do. And money is raised. All good.

However, there are a number of things that I guess I've become a little jaded about over the years. I'm too demanding or something. So this is a bit of a rant, but not really. That's why I didn't put it over in the Journal of Unintended Consequences. Although there are consequences. And some unintended.

All these gala/fete/ball/performance/dinner fundraisers have some elements from the following list:

• formal attire
• silent and/or live auctions of goods to raise more money
• food
• drink
• entertainment
• presentations of awards and acknowledgements
  
• decorations
• souvenir gifts
  

Now formal attire does take things up a notch. There are lots of dresses to look at (not on me, of course) and the guys look elegant in tuxedos (or dinner jackets when it's appropriate or sometimes even when it's not). You sort of feel like there is a certain amount of elegance that you can co-opt. I get weary of coming up with appropriate outfits, though.

We went to an event two nights ago that was just 'business/cocktail' which let some of the mucky-mucks where fancy dresses but allowed FFP and I to slide with business suits.

Then there are the auctions. The way it works is that a committee forms and then people and businesses are talked into donating everything from wine and jewelry and gift certificates to trips, clothing, signed memorabilia, etc. Bids are either taken on sign up sheets or by live auction. Our event of two nights ago didn't have an auction. (Although they were selling off the beautiful art glass centerpieces at the 'after' party.) It was into the entertainment/presentation mode. The tickets for those who paid to eat the dinner and share in the festivities were, I believe, $500 a piece. So not so necessary to raise extra money, I guess. Anyway, a couple of weeks ago we were at an event that had a large silent and a live auction. It does give people something to do, walking around looking at the stuff on offer. FFP had helped gather donations for that one. He mostly got restaurant certificates. We bid briefly on some wine in that silent auction but didn't get anything. We ended up not getting something in the live auction but donating some money for one. Complicated, 'nuf said. I can't tell you how much we have donated by buying items in these auctions. I never try to write off the donation either. Unlike the tix to some of the events (which have a stated value of services less than the ticket price, natch) usually these items are pretty much worth what you pay for them or a little less. But the charity gets a donation and, I guess, some of the donors get a write-off. Anyway, yeah we have bought a lot of these things in the past. Just a brief look around our house uncovers a number of items we got at these auctions: several pieces of framed art, a 48-inch round table, a Chinese-looking vase, a Christophle vase with snakes on it, a beautiful wooden painted chair, an oak coffee table, some yard art, wine, glassware and an antique silver party purse. There is a large photographic portrait of us, too, that we bought the sitting for in an auction. Innumerable gift certificates for restaurants and stores and entertainments were purchased, too. And most of them used.

My biggest objection to these auctions? Long checkout lines for the silent ones. Confusion about who is bidding what in the live ones. But they do raise money. And, I'm convinced you could furnish your house with the stuff you could buy if you went to enough of them. And I have solved the silent auction thing a few times by walking out and contacting them and paying up later. They always know where to find us and we are good for it.

Ah, food. The most formal and expensive of these have a sit-down dinner. (Although dessert is often offered buffet-style.) Sometimes the food is quite good and innovative. But I'm a little tired of the beef and fish plates meant to (half) satisfy people. You shouldn't go to one of these things expecting to be dazzled by the food. Or expecting a good cup of coffee. Cheaper stand up affairs may have restaurant-sponsored little 'stands' or hors d'oeuvres buffets. It's funny how you perch at a table and gossip with strangers about where to find the best offerings.

The expensive events have open bars. Some have cash bars. In order to avoid crowding at the bars the venues put waiters out there with trays with, usually, white wine, red wine and water. Occasionally champagne. I usually take one of these offerings as a line of least resistance. But I'm usually happier standing in line for an actual cocktail before dinner rather than an indifferent wine. The cheaper stand up affairs (tix $100 or less) often have liquor sponsors which can lead to dazzling specialty martinis but no Jack Daniels. You can get very, very drunk at many of these events. Which is, of course, a bad idea. The worst ones for me as far as curtailing the amount of drink to allow feeling fresh in the morning are wine dinners where excellent wines are poured. It's all too easy to drink every glass offered. Which would be too much. Think tasting.

Entertainment at these events can be bands, dancing, performances, etc. I can't stand the really loud bands. (Especially on the mezzanine of the Driskill hotel, the loudest room on earth. The sound drifts into the ballroom and side rooms to make even conversation there impossible for those of us with any difficulty hearing.) When there has already been ample entertainment (sometimes a performance/presentation occurs at the Paramount and then an after party at the Driskill), any music should be quiet and allow patrons to talk about what they just experienced.

Presentations and entertainments where everyone needs to be focused must be done at an actual theater or at a time in the dinner when people are sort of captive at their tables. [Presentation and entertainment at the Paramount for the one the other night had the most fidgety audience I've ever seen. There were cell phones ringing, people talking, people going in and out and in and out.] What seem like great lines when one is forming a script can get very tedious when one is sitting there in an after five outfit with a few drinks needing a bathroom break and things go on and on. Have your entertainment choreographed and precise. When you are presenting awards to people who are going to be allowed to speak, try to keep them from making a speech as if they are in Oslo. Especially if they are in their dotage. They won't mind being taken off the hook. I promise.

The decorations at some of these things are so darned elaborate that you really question the sanity of it all. Towering candelabras, hundreds of colored votives on tables (so many napkins were burned that night), etc. I sort of like the ones where they have some centerpiece they can sell off. Makes me feel better about it all.

And then there are the souvenir gifts. The phrase 'swag the rich' comes to mind. It isn't like Hollywood with companies giving gift baskets worth tens of thousands to famous influencers. No. It's perfume samples, key chains, memo pads, corkscrews, T-Shirts. A lot of the stuff just adds to the clutter, I think. But the gift bag to take home has become a standard at some of these things. Maybe sponsors insist on it. Anyone want two AT&T key chains made in China? I'm just saying.

Yeah, we keep going to these events. But I have to tell you. When there is an evening, like this the one tonight, when our calendar is blank after 2PM, I breathe a sigh of relief.

It's Best to Have Rich Friends

Last night I was sitting at a table for eight with some of the 'lesser' donors for a nonprofit capital campaign we are involved in. I imagine all the couples at the table gave 'five figures' as they say but at other tables were the people for whom six and seven figures are not out of the question for multiple charities.


We were joking with some pals about being at the kid's table. Then one of the guys was wondering about the net worth 'in the room.'

"About a billion," I said. "With a 'b'. Even with us here."


I really think it was true. How do you really know though? But some of the people have given away my net worth several times over.


It's nice to have rich friends, of course. They have wine cellars with enough 1985 Cos d'Estournel (an esteemed Bordeaux) and old Montrachet to pour for forty people. And a bottle of champagne as big as a horse for the toasts and dessert. They have a domed room plenty large enough for forty or fifty people to dine. They have space to exhibit amazing weird art. The house was like a museum. Right after I arrived a woman who also has a house like a museum was commenting on a painting and said the stance of a hip hop guy in the painting reminded her of the stance of a Rubenesque naked woman in a painting her husband gave her. She was flustered because she couldn't remember the artist.


"Botero?" I offered.


"That's it! Of course." She said.


It's great to have rich friends. And if you can help them identify their holdings so much the better.


Honestly. It's better to have rich friends than to be rich. Being rich is such a responsibility.


It's all relative, of course. I know that most people consider me rich. I consider myself rich if only because I'm catching the glow of these friends.

Black Tie Charity

This is not a picture of us last night. I think we are not this fat now. (But I'm often deluded.) I have no idea when and where this was taken. But we are in black tie outfits. I am wearing a silver mock turtle. I wore it last night, too.

What is it about raising money that inspires people to dress up, serve fancy food and drink and decorate? I hear people say "just let me give the money, I don't care about the gala." But when you go to the next one, it's crowded with people.

Last night's event was to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the Performing Arts Center at the University of Texas. Which will soon close down for renovation. A dear friend invited us after taking a table sponsorship. The drill was this: (1) black tie, as mentioned; (2) arrive at 4:30 for cocktails at a giant tent atop a workout facility near Memorial Stadium (we had a little trouble locating valet parking but finally did); (3) mill around and take in the tables with giant silver candelabras and flowers and the cones hanging from the ceiling with changing colors of LED lights while seeing everyone's finery; (4) sit down to a three course dinner catered by Four Seasons while presentations are made and videos are shown (dessert was a chocolate thing with a Lion King logo on it); (5) take a shuttle bus to Bass at the PAC where we noticed that the tower was completely orange and the windows spelled out '25' for the anniversary of the PAC; (6) watch a very credible performance of "The Lion King" (they ripped out seats to make the aisles correct for entrances similar to the Broadway production); (7) take the shuttle back to the tent where it's now set up as a cocktail party with an African-influenced band and servers are offering fancy popcorn (truffled??) and French Fries and sliders and beignets and drinks. (Didn't we just eat? Whoa!); (8) dance a little, eat a few bites, have coffee and water, talk, talk, talk; (9) wait in a valet line after getting a box of truffles as a souvenir; (10) get car (it's midnight...this has been a seven and a half hour party!); (11) drive home.

It was really a lot of fun. I'm strangely attracted to tuxedos and such. And, this being Austin, someone had on a cowboy hat and I'm sure if I'd looked hard enough there would have been boots. (FFP had on tuxedo pumps, though. He told me he needs new ones that fit better, however.) The people were delightful, our hosts impeccable. But you gotta admit that society has evolved a strange bunch of rituals around raising money.

Black Tie

The picture was snapped at some event in 2004. I'm thinking the Opera Ball but I'm not absolutely sure.

I just consulted my calendar and realized that in the next six weeks or so we will go to four black tie events. Two are this week.

FFP was looking at his tuxedo shirts a night or two ago. He really has just one tuxedo he likes to wear. He has several shirts, a bunch of ties, cummerbands, studs, suspenders, etc.

I have a variety of things with beads, sparkles and black. Flat tuxedo-pump style shoes. I haven't gotten anything new in ages. Five or six years probably. I have a tuxedo, too. Tuxedos on women were a look that came around (and probably went somewhere and will come again). I will doubtless see some of the same people at all four of these events. So I better figure out how to make four outfits out of my disparate pants, skirts and tops. Or I could just not worry that people care what I wear.

Black tie. It's a funny description, isn't it? Well, of course it refers to the man's (once black) bow tie. Distinguished from the man's white tie. I've never been at something described as white tie. And I'd have no idea what women might wear to such an event. Of course, this being Austin, dress 'suggestions' are not always taken to heart. You always see someone flaunting the prescription or pushing the edges.

It seems that when raising money for charity, getting people all dressed up raises more money. All of these events involve charities somehow.

And it's just clothes, after all. So I'll make up four outfits. Digging in the depths of my closet.

Things I Love, But am Not Good At

Those of you know me, knowI love to entertain. I like people coming together, hearing music, eating and drinking and enjoying. I like to have the right glassware and linens and do the 'theme' to a T.

But I'm not great at it. We gave a charity dinner last night. Our dinner was one of a couple of dozen happening all over town. All had their own themes, food, dress code, etc. devised by the hosts who were picking up all the costs. The guests signed up for dinners that sounded good to them, paid money to the charity and were placed at a party. We knew some of our guests. We didn't know others. They call the event "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?"

Anyway, I love decorating the tables and having the stuff just right. But I'm really sort of lame at it. FFP helped me by doing the flowers to go with my stuff but mostly I fretted over the table settings myself. Our theme was "Red, White and Bleu: French with an American Twist." It was an excuse to serve sort of American food with a French twist and use Eiffel towers and French flags as decoration. In the spirit of the moment, I suppose things did look a bit like a French cafe when the votives were flickering and Christine Albert and Chris Gage were performing songs from the French songbook. Only Christine sings translated lyrics, too, which is good. In spite of my minor in French I still have trouble translating. Ciel? That's sky. Wait...the song has gone on without me. Coeur? Heart, yeah. Where were we? I love French. All languages really. But I'm not very good at them.

Like all Austin parties this one was about making connections. The new sous chef and the longtime office manager from Fonda San Miguel connecting to some people who live in the neighborhood. A woman whose grandmother lived in Ft. Worth in the very house that relatives of a man in attendance had built. They had never met before. After our dinner there was a massive reception at The Nest in Whit Hanks. The organizers of the event said our party had gotten 'rave reviews.' But they would say that, wouldn't they? This morning there are still a few things to put away and clean up but not much. FFP hired Ballet Dancers to help serve and they stayed and bused the tables, washed the glasses, filled the dishwasher and rearranged furniture. Dancers amaze me. Just they way they walk around. I love dance. But I'm no dancer. I'm not even as good at waiting tables and washing glassware as the dancers. But I like little chores like ironing and washing dishes well enough in spite of being sort of bad at them.

Maybe I have a strange attractor to things I'm not good at. That may be it.

A Scallop Boat with Caviar Passengers

I've eaten beans and rice, of course, to get by, and got through college on tuna casseroles and such. But I've eaten my share of gourmet treats, too. And I've never been hungry.

Today's photo shows some lobsters we were buying not long after they were brought in from traps. Not much longer after that we were eating them...they were cooked right there at the dock restaurant. This was in the summer of 2005 on the rocky coast of Maine.

But what about the scallop boat with the caviar passengers of the title? Yes, that was just last night at Jeffrey's. We were sitting at the bar and had ordered some appetizers. I'd ordered a cauliflower bisque with a scallop and caviar. Before it arrived I heard Abby, who was sitting next to me, describe the soup as having a 'scallop boat with caviar passengers.' I knew her name was Abby because FFP was with me so, of course, he'd introduced himself to the strangers to my right...Abby and Leo. Anyway, I thought this description of the soup was hilarious. I said something to FFP about what a contrast our evening's nourishment was to the story of the Indian orphans. He'd already told me about his interview that day, but he proceeded to tell Abby and Leo.

"I interviewed this woman today. In 1999, she was selling TV. [Ed. TV advertising he means, surely one of the most soul-draining occupations.] She and a girlfriend who also sold TV were out for drinks. She asked her friend, 'Aren't you tired of doing this. I am.'" So they sold stock they'd accumulated (before the bubble burst) and traveled around the world kind of randomly. They went first to Maui. Then South Africa and Egypt. Anyway, they ended up in India and on a whim they went to this village looking for this kid who was one of those kids you 'adopt' and send money and letters and gifts to through agencies. Her friend had been sending stuff to this kid and they figured he really didn't exist. But they found him. And he had every card, letter and little gift she'd sent him! They were invited to dinner at an orphanage. There were 150 kids or so there. They were being fed rice only, but the women were visitors and got chicken. When this woman went to put a little boy to bed, he was so thin he almost fell through the slats on the sleeping platform (they had no mattresses). She tried to adopt him, but the adoption system is corrupt and impossible at every level. So she decided to try to build orphanages and save the kids. She started The Miracle Foundation. She has a simple three level approach: shelter, protein, medical care."

And then the soup came. It was delicious. But I couldn't stop thinking about those Indian orphans who if they are lucky enough to be in an orphanage may only have rice to eat.

Top Ten Reasons for Moving to Downtown Austin

10. What a cool name for a hot dog wagon! (See picture.)

9. The mussels at Capitol Brasserie.

8. Mercury Design Studio.

7. Walking to Whole Foods Planet. (My name for the downtown Whole Foods because of the signs that say 'Whole Foods/Whole Planet' or something like that.)

6. Walking to Austin Music Hall, the Paramount, the convention center, many restaurants, bars, some museums. Not to mention several coffee shops that don't have 'Bucks' in their name. Like Halcyon. And Little City. And Hideout. And there's Elephant Room with jazz every night and nowadays almost no smoke. Jazz with takeout from Kyoto upstairs and a Guinness on draft. Yum.

5. Walking to Book People. And other shopping besides that cool Mercury place. Home stores, art galleries, Austin Wine Merchant and...

4. The new hip bodega, Royal Blue Grocery, on Third Street in the AMLI.

3. Proximity to City Hall so it's a piece of cake to get in line to speak your mind.

2. Getting on the Hike and Bike trail and walking around Town Lake without driving downtown.

And the top reason for moving to downtown Austin for us?
1. Walking to the new Ballet Austin building at Third and San Antonio. Heck, on a good day and in comfortable shoes we could walk to Long Center or the Opera Building or Palmer Events Center or the Capitol for the Book Festival. But FFP spends a lot of time volunteering on Ballet Austin projects. So being close will be great for him. And if possible, we are going to be really close to their building.

I realize I can walk to lots of stuff from my house. A branch library, three bakeries, restaurants (Billy's Burgers, Blue Star, Jorge's, Fonda San Miguel, Upper Crust, Pacha's, Phoenician, La Victoria, Sampaio, some new sushi place, etc.), thrift stores and, if you are feeling like a long walk...Central Market. And I realize that I often complain that I can't walk to these places because it's too hot or the sidewalks aren't adequate (they are putting sidewalks on Shoal Creek however). But somehow this downtown thing feels right. I guess we'll see. The future is kind of a blur anyway, huh? But imagining life a little different is good.

Financial Advice

Who am I to give financial advice? Nobody. I don't have a designation with a C in front of it like CPA or a Certified Financial Planner. Still, I have advice. Everybody does.

First there is my basic philosophy. It has a three-letter code like all those certifications. Only it begins with D. It is DDE. This is the DDE financial philosophy. Debt-free. Diversified. Enjoyable. You will be SO much better off if you pay off your debts, don't put all your eggs in one basket and make sure that you enjoy what you are spending your money on. (As far as possible. This doesn't mean you shouldn't pay your taxes or your utility bill.)

There are all kinds of caveats and corollaries to my advice. Things like budgeting and investing and creating options for your life. But that's the basic tenet. Maybe others have done better than I with fewer opportunities. But I've muddled through with this philosophy.

And what, you may reasonably ask, does a picture of a flamingo dressed up as Patsy Kline have to do with this philosophy? Maybe nothing. Maybe something. Patsy decorated our table at the Red, Hot and Soul benefit on Saturday night for the Zach Scott Theater here in Austin. The donation to the theater was wrapped in the enjoyment of the Keepin' Austin Weird decorations. I like spending money on charity and also have an abiding belief in decorated flamingos. (And naked ones, too.) Hey and you should have seen the Brokeback Mountain flamingos!