Get Those Cards Out!

It's only nine days until Christmas and so not much time to have my Merry Christmas card arrive before Christmas (or the end of Hanukkah). Why did I print 'Merry Christmas?' So tribal. Dang. Also, if it said 'Happy New Year' then it could arrive, well, anytime in January.

So, OK. I'm going to comb my list and get some ready to mail today (if I beat the mailman to our condo) or Monday at the latest.

Thoughts while combing the list in my database, upon looking at particular entries:

• I can't believe they keep sending me cards. I worked for the man in the family over 15 years ago. Wonder if that address is still good? Not sending a card. Maybe they will stop this year!
• I haven't heard from them since last Christmas, but I'd like to communicate with them. I'll take a chance on the address. Met the guy at my job, too. We shared an interest in fine food and wine.
• I'm always saying that we should get together. She's so much fun. They are always coming downtown so maybe we will some time. I'll send a card. Met her at work, too.
• That's the half of the couple that we sort of lost in the divorce. But she sent a card last year. Nah.
• Well, hmmm, I think they split up and I haven't gotten a card from either nor do I know an address so...no.
• She has health problems. Almost a shut-in? Sent a card last year and probably appreciates cards. Gee, I wonder if she's still at that address? In fact, is she still alive?
• I knew this guy in college. He and his family (kids must be in their twenties?) send a card every year. Hopefully, they haven't moved. I'm going to send one.
• This is the daughter of a friend from college. She has sent a card for years. A couple of years she sent the makings for Hoppin' John. I don't think I have her mother's address. The mom and dad divorced. Actually, they were both friends in high school, too. I think my friend moved here after she retired but I'm concluding that from Facebook. Ok, why not, send a card. Man, I hope they haven't moved.
• Friends of Dad's really. But they keep sending cards to us. Nah.
• These guys were moving I think. I'll wait for a card from them. They always send one. It is always a picture of them.
• This couple's house was so close to the Santa Rosa fire. A mile away I think. (I actually compared the fire maps to Google maps.) Wonder if they are still there? They sent a card last year, but I'll wait. Met them through a friend. I'll see her this holiday and must remember to ask about them. We met up in France on a trip. We toured Normandy and then later met in the Alsace for a meal. On different trips, I think.
• A lesbian couple (not that none of the above were) but I just say that because I think last year's card was exuberant about being married. And there was a last year card so...I'll send one.
• Daughter of a cousin and husband and three kids. They sent one last year. Do it.
• Dad's friends, but they were so kind to him that I owe them big time. Hmm...did they already send me one this year? I don't think so....
• Friends we get together with all too rarely. Yeah, send it. They sent one last year.
• I have known this woman since I was a tiny kid. They sent a card last year. Hope they are still OK.
• We did a lot of stuff with this couple when they lived here in Austin. They live in Henderson, near Las Vegas now. We visited LV once and had lunch with them. They sent one last year. Yeah, OK. They've had some health scares. Hope they're OK. 
• What is a good address for these people? Maybe they'll send a card.
• This couple used to send a real card and were almost always first (after the Thanksgiving cheaters anyway). This year they sent an electronic card. But, in their defense, they did spend a few days stranded in Bali because of the volcanic eruption. So, yeah, send it.
• They sent one last year. They invite us to lots of parties. They have a cute kid so hope they send a picture although...Facebook! So, send it.
• They are downtowners like us. Last year they sent a card. Don't think they always do. But let's do it.
• Single, true crime writer. Know address is good. Sent a card last year. Yup, do it.
• Elegant New Jersey couple. Sent a card last year. Know they haven't moved. Do it.
• Friends since Junior High. She married for the third time a couple of years ago. They moved (from Portland) to Central Oregon. I like the new husband a lot. I was in her first wedding. Less said about that guy the better. Never met the second husband. He died of a heart attack some years ago. They sent a card last year so, of course, send it. (I see them in Portland almost every year. Even this year when they weren't living there any longer.)
• These people send a multi-page, multi-generational biographical extravaganza. They also give a themed party once a year that we have attended (and been delighted to get an invitation to) but, this year, decided maybe we didn't want to continue going. They are very rich. They are very prominent socialites. Oh, well. Send one.
• I play tennis with this person. Did she just hand me a card last year? Or mail one? Hmmm. Think I'll pend this one.
• Met this young lady at a local film non-profit before she took off to make her fortune in NYC. We met up with her a few times there. Now she's married. Not sure of address although got a card last year. Pend it, too.
• This gal works for a non-profit we support. At least she did. Have a home address and it says they sent one last year. Pend.
• This couple used to live here in an apartment near us. Moved to Dallas to be near grandkids. Sent us one last year. Yeah, sure. Another Jewish family. Should have just printed Happy Hanakkuh as well as Merry Christmas.
• Love this couple. They sent an electronic one last year. Oh, well, mail one.
• Our favorite curmudgeon. We have to travel to see him because he doesn't travel far from home and no trains or planes. We usually send him some money. Better double check to PO Box. He confirms via email and done.
• Our travel planner (who has also accompanied and taken care of us on a couple of trips). She doesn't send cards I don't think, but hey we love her so much. Send one and say so.
• Nice couple, met through a non-profit. Expect a card with grandkids pix any day. Sure, send them one with us vaguely reflected in a Christmas ball.
• High-powered lawyer and her husband. We know them from many common charities. My records show they sent one last year (replete with family photos, I think) But don't show that I sent one. Lazy record keeping or did I just not do it? Just saw on Facebook that they were headed to Vietnam but are having airline problems.
• Best friends ever. Did we really not exchange cards last year? Send them one.
• Another social superstar couple. Bit older than us. So sweet. I played tennis with the lady a long time ago before she quit playing. Expect the multi-page, multi-generational booklet card any day. Send it.
• Met this gal in Germany in 1993 or so. We've kept up with Christmas cards and I'm friends on Facebook. Weirdly, a good friend of mine introduced me, but she hasn't kept up with her. Think I'll pend this one.

And so it goes. But my energy for it flags. Maybe I'll do a few more tomorrow. And continue to wonder who cares. By the way, I received one today with the sentiment I guess I like best: Peace. It was the only one I received today. And I already sent one their way so winning.

Connection Time

I've already posted a picture of the holiday card I had printed. It's a vague one. A bit of a joke and a reference to our habit of taking reflection pictures. Last year's card was more straightforward.

So far we've received 15 cards that weren't from businesses or non-profits. I've mailed 29 cards out. I 'replied' to some of the ones received. I anticipated others. (She will send a card for sure, hasn't moved and there will be a cat on the card, a cartoon cat in holiday garb; he will send a card, probably with a painting or nature scene and nothing to do with the holiday celebrations and I owe him a 'thank you' for dinner the other night so I'll enclose that; she will send a small card and inside in neat handwriting will be a description of the last years travels---I met her at work in the '70's, have not seen her in person since.)

I mailed one card to France. One card had a $100 bill in it. (I straight away sent my aunt a card. You are never too old to reap the rewards of being one of the nieces or nephews.)

As I go through my list my heart goes out to the people who've split up or lost their partners. I wonder if some of these people have moved and, even though I'll probably send a card I'll wait until they send one to check the address. I always check the addresses to make sure my database is up to date and is accurate. I'll even insert the extra four digits of the ZIP code if it's on their card. However, I don't print labels any longer. I hand address the cards. And I write something even if it is "Happy Holidays" inside in my shaky longhand.

People like to get mail. I do. Of course, I always hope that the cards I get are from people I already sent them to! And that I remember who the heck they are and why we know them. (There are people in the database that I am at a loss to tell you how they got there.)

It's really time to get busy sending more of these out. Can't believe Christmas is 11 days away. But I'm sure I'll get fewer than I got last year (45) and send fewer than I did last year (50+).

Sometimes I save the stamps off some of the envelopes. This, too, is lost with ecards and email greetings. Heck, in 2014 I used stamps to make handmade cards for some of the people.

Well, I better look through my list a bit more. Oh, that guy. He always sends one. Hope he's still at that address. We exchange cards, then maybe an email, threaten to get together every year. And we never do.

A Tough Subject

What's this? A self-portrait scribbled on my iPhone for my phone's 'wallpaper'. I think it looks just like me. In fact, when I drink my face gets red enough that people ask if I've 'gotten a lot of sun.' I'll say, "No. It's the wine." or whatever.

Other people don't think it looks like me. Go figure.

So here's my actual picture. Not the pinup at the bottom but that reflection...the one to the right of the camera.

I snapped this in a junk shop when I first got my iPhone. And, yes, I'm sure I intentionally included myself.

And this one? Maybe that's a reflection of my feet and legs.

What do we see when we see ourselves? In pictures? In the mirror? In the reflection in a shop window when we are passing by. I'm often a little shocked a what I see. ("Stand up straight!" I say to the passing image in that window.) In the mirror or photo I see the extra chin, the wrinkles, the imperfections, the hair going everywhere and going a little gray. (I'm inordinately proud that it's not ALL gray. After all a lot of my friends are completely gray. And truth be told, I like when it is going in multiple directions.)

Here's what I really look like. Well, not really. The picture is a couple of years old. I look older. I have more gray. The photo was taken (and retouched perhaps) by a professional.

Well, OK...here I am now. Last week.

My right eye looks a little wonky. My hair is suitably weird. See the gray? I keep it short because that de-emphasizes the gray. I'd had a drink, maybe two. Red cheeks. This is just a snapshot FFP took and I cropped it out to show my face.

So who are we really? How do we perceive ourselves and, of course, others? Do we make instant judgments based on age and skin color?  Sex? Dress? Do we hear someone speak (articulately or not, accented or bland) and make judgments about origin and education?

These perceptions are much in the news. People are protesting deaths of blacks in police shootings. A young girl shot in the head for being in favor of education for girls is receiving a Nobel prize. There are ancient wars between and among religious sects and ethnic groups outsiders would find difficult to define. The world is full of this hate. Stereotyping. Prejudice. There's no doubt about it.

Amid the protests over police shootings of blacks and, let's face it, before that, there has been a call for whites to confess to their privilege if not their prejudice. I'm not sure what one is supposed to do once this privilege (and perhaps prejudice) is acknowledged. Perhaps the hope is that one will become less apt to make an instant assumption about someone. Or maybe become less opposed (assuming one was opposed) to affirmative action.

From the pictures above (well maybe not the drawing!) one can see that my skin is the 'white' associated with Northern Europeans. I confess that the rhetoric which demands that I admit my privilege is a little off-putting for me. I am a woman (the short hair sometimes confuses people on this point but I am) and I grew up in the lower middle class. My privilege is hard-worn assuming I have it. I could go on and on about male privilege in college and the work place in my era. I will not.

In any case, I'm white. I check the Caucasian box when asked. (What does that even mean?) I haven't done 23andMe although I'm considering it. I think it might find some ancestry that would be surprising. But the fact is that other people see white skin.

Which brings me to a thought experiment that I began about two months ago. I decided that when I interacted with others or just saw them on the street that, in addition to noting how they were dressed and making assumptions about who they were and what they were doing, I would note their race, the color of their skin, the distinguishing facial features of race, first and foremost.

Wait, you say...that's what you always do! No, I found, it really was not. I had to force this fact to the head of the line in making assumptions. A guy with a backpack and earphones? I'd internally say a person of Asian origin who is probably a student or a high tech worker. Before I would not have added the racial aspect although certainly I would have probably remembered it later. A group of people speaking another language taking up the entire sidewalk looking back and forth at phones? A group of Asian foreign visitors. A male runner with no shirt on and a great body? A black athlete. The scary homeless man we see a lot who stands straight up and makes threatening gestures? A white man who obviously has psychological problems. The homeless guy we see a lot lounging on a particular park bench never asking for anything or speaking? The black homeless guy with dreads.

I could go on and on. I learned a lot of things from this exercise. I learned that I wasn't always sure about race. Hispanic? Or black? Mixed race? I learned that in Austin many construction workers appear Hispanic but blacks are few and far between. (Our Hispanic population is four times that of blacks here, however.) I learned that though our black population is less than ten percent that I see lots of blacks in many contexts. (We'll talk about the elitism of the blacks who are my friends and the economic, education, cultural implications of that another day.) I saw blacks headed to work, homeless, shopping, having meetings in coffee shops, running the trail, dressed like bankers, performing musicians, street musicians. For some reason I didn't see many black families on the walking trails but mixed race families seemed to abound. This isn't a statistical study, of course, but a personal one. What assumptions was I making? And the number of people in Austin identifying as two or more races is fifty percent of the number identifying as black.

I love watching people. Sorting them into types and ilks. Skin color and facial features denoting origins is one way. And I found that making myself identify it at the forefront when encountering strangers rather than emphasizing my own prejudice probably adjusted it. These strangers covered the spectrum in all the other ways we have of distinguishing people: dress, seeming economic status, age, sex, fitness, way of speaking (if they spoke), what they carried, etc. Race identification didn't really tell one much else. Which may be why I didn't put it first in my people-watching before. Which is not to say I didn't notice racial characteristics.

For those who aren't on the front lines of the battle against hate of the 'other' I recommend a thought experiment like this as you encounter strangers. If you make assumptions based on race or age or sex alone then you might ask why. I certainly make assumptions. Particularly when I see drivers of a certain age or race. I think it's worth taking these out and examining them honestly. I don't know if this constitutes a contribution to the conversation we are told we are supposed to be having about race. But it's always good to take a good look at oneself. Outside (OK, I'm not that red and I'm getting old and a bit fat) and inside (what are you really thinking and from where does that thinking arise).

Snail Mail Tradition

The Visible Woman...connects.

It's that time of year when I design a holiday card (or occasionally buy some) and then peruse a Microsoft Access database deciding which of my friends, family and acquaintances will receive a card in the mail. At the moment there are over 600 rows in said database. However, I only had 150 cards printed. I clean up the database this time of year, eliminating the deceased (there are always some of these in the last few years) and also letting go of entries for people I've lost track of---where I haven't had a good address in years. Let's be honest: some people stay in the database just to remind me that once I knew them and perhaps even counted them as friends. Others were placed on the list temporarily and I just couldn't eliminate them for some reasons...like friends of my parents that I'd invited to events for them.

I pick out a set of people I want to communicate with, however impersonally, at least during this once a year flurry of envelopes and stamps. I favor people we've been seeing a lot as well as those who are far away but in our thoughts. I also favor people who send cards themselves. Admittedly there are people we see who aren't in this database. We've just never had occasion to collect a postal address. And there are people I'll probably never see in person again but with whom we faithfully exchange cards.

I rather enjoy sending them and, to be honest, I enjoy receiving the cards from others. Already we've received two from friends and two or three from businesses or non-profits. I even like the long letters surveying a family's year. Often the only decorations in our apartment for the season are a bunch of colorful cardboard designs and glossy pictures of other peoples' kids and dogs.

As the years go by and we communicate less and less by mail I find the ritual feels more and more archaic and strange. Somehow, though, this makes it seem even more important.

A few cards have already arrived.

My SXSW

SXSW has grown to this gigantic amorphous thing that is not the same for any two people. Oh, you discuss other peoples' experiences as these two gents are doing on the escalator at the Convention Center. And you find lots of common ground. You may even find yourself on a wave length that puts you in line next to the same people over and over. But no one person experiences the thing the same way, not even close. Not even if the others are concentrating on the same sorts of things. Not even if you see all the same programs. (Like FFP and I did.)

We bought film badges. Our music experience was limited to the entertainment at the one party we attended (The E Flat Porch Band at the Austin Film Festival alum party at Star Bar) and the bands playing a set at Lenoir's backyard on Sunday so Todd Duplechan could use up the goat he ordered for a SXSW party that canceled.  (Smoked and served with sunflower sprouts, cilantro, etc. in sturdy lettuce leaves.) Oh, maybe he was planning the event anyway but the cabrito was from a canceled party. ("It's SXSW, that's what they do," he said, cheerfully.) Oh, there was music leaking out everywhere...crashing up from the La Zona Rosa and Austin Music Hall and Cedar Street, around every corner from street buskers, out the doors of bars. And we walked by South by San Jose and Guero's on Sunday, hearing a few bars of music. Indeed, there were musicians playing at Ruth's Chris when we sought solace there. They were playing regular weekly gigs, though. Free to attend.

But movies were our concentration and music was a side light although, since it's SXSW, some films were about music and one showing even featured a brief performance.

We bought film badges back in September. They cost $450 each then, the cheapest price. Pretty pricey to stand in long lines and see 20 movie programs and one panel discussion and wander through a trade show. Over 20 dollars an event. We stood in slightly shorter lines for some shows but only because we stood in a long line to get another pass (the SXXpress pass or some such).

The only panel discussion we went to was "A Beginner's Guide to SXSW Film." We weren't beginners but someone we like was on the panel and so we thought, why not? And we heard from director Yen Tan whose movie we later saw ("Pit Stop.") We did learn a little. In any case we knew more than 99% of the volunteers.

So, yes, we saw 20 movie programs. I couldn't name them without a cheat sheet. I'd always forget one or two. But I'm going to round them up with this cheat sheet provided by the SXSW schedule thing. Links may disappear and I plugged in Short Game where we didn't really see it because the link wouldn't work from the one where we saw it (a TBD). If that makes sense. (And it doesn't make much to me now. The SXSW scheduler and app are great except when they are not which is frequently.)

We did not drive our cars to any venue for a SXSW event. We attended movies at all the 'walkable' venues: the Vimeo Theater in the Convention Center, Alamo Ritz, Stateside, the Paramount, Rollins at Long Center, Violet Crown and Topfer at the Zach. There was a little rain at first but mostly the weather and the walking were pleasant. We did not get a single free drink nor any free food. Just the idea of free signals to us crowded and untenable. We ate popcorn and drank sodas and beer and coffee in some of the theaters and we treated ourselves to meals at Bess, Garrido's and Henri's and snacks and meals at Ruth's Chris in the lounge.

We didn't get turned away from any theater but we did give up getting into one movie at the Paramount, now out in general release. The line almost wrapped back from Congress and Eighth to Congress and Seventh. I believe we went to Ruth's Chris and had food and I drank a Manhattan. Below I've collected my thoughts on movies and people and general stuff. These aren't reviews. I'd be a terrible movie reviewer. They are more like 'impressions' and thoughts and likes and dislikes.

Shorts Program 1
Of particular interest was the Kat Chandler short Black Metal. Our friend Kelly Williams was a producer and Kat Chandler wrote and directed. I was very impressed with how much they were able to do with a short to show the multiple sides of a heavy metal artist who is also a husband and father. No preaching, just showing. Another short in this program stood out for me: Natives. I was particularly captivated by the actors playing the parents. Stoic, deadpan, unaffected. This film had at its center a lesbian couple. Gay characters abounded in the offerings, it seemed. Whether this is just a general trend (I tend to think so) or SXSW is trying to gobble up the local GLBT fest is a question I asked myself.

Harry Dean Stanton: Partly Fiction
Harry Dean. And, and Wim Wenders and Kris Kristofferson. David Lynch. Sam Shepard. Clips from movies we all love. Harry Dean doing music and more music. Kris singing. Lovely film that I'll try to watch again someday. Must see for the film buff.

Before You Know It
Aging and its perils have been on my mind for quite a while. Nearing Medicare myself, ushering aging parental units on the long final slog from 2000-2011, watching friends die. P.J. Ravel's focus here is aging people in the GLBT community. He focuses on three men and the people around them. They are quite different people leading disparate lives in different places. I found all the people engaging. Only knock on this one is that it is too long and gets repetitive. One of the ones where you start mentally making the cuts yourself. ("I'd cut the bar's mardi gras footage right here. I'd lose part of this gay wedding. We don't need to see them arguing over that shopping bag.") But great insight into these people and their very real lives. I felt like I knew them and felt for their struggle.

Before Midnight
Richard Linklater, Julie Delphy and Ethan Hawke return to their riff on contact, communication, attraction and chance. Tour de force acting. Just people revealing through talking. Which I love!! Great scenery, too.

When Angels Sing
Turk Pipkin must have always dreamed of turning his little book, a homage to Christmas, into a movie. A movie with deep roots in music and Austin. He did it and we saw it with most of the people in the movie. Marcia Ball, Sarah Hickman, Willie Nelson as Santa. Sappy but fun and good for Turk, living his dreams.

Linsanity
Jeremy Lin says it's all about God. I say it's chance and talent and desire meshing. Still, great doc and the man himself was there. Not a sports fan, really, but enjoyed the film.

Getting Back to Abnormal
Beautifully put together. Telling a pretty big tale of NOLA politics and history, Katrina and the lore of the Crescent City using the seemingly small lens of one city council race. The scope ends up being pretty sweeping and the even-handed way the people and issues are handled sings.

Rewind This
This doc is about video tape, the experience of watching movies and other material in this medium and current collectors of those clunky plastic cassettes. Entertaining and informative in the same way that those TV shows are that are about guys who are antique or toy experts and go around collecting things. It didn't make me sorry I tossed a multiple tape set of "Titantic" but it did make me glad I saved my cassette of "Pink Flamingos" signed by John Waters.

Muscle Shoals
All that music from a litle spot in Alabama called Muscle Shoals? If you wrote this doc as fiction, it would seem fantastical. The Fame Studio and the risen from poverty Rick Hall, backup musicians called the Swampers and their offshoot Muscle Shoals Studio defined the sounds we were weaned on. Most people leave home to make something grand happen. The world came to this spot on the Tennessee River and took the sound away. If you can't enjoy this one, you don't like Blues, Rock 'n Roll or a good tale.

Sofia's Last Ambulance
The grimmest thing I've seen on film in a long time. Follows a ambulance crew in Sofia, Bulgaria with shaky handhelds keeping patients out of the picture. Sometimes you just see a few points of light and hear the dialogue with the patient and those around them while a dog barks mournfully somewhere. Sometimes you are just watching the weary faces of the driver and the crew from a dash cam as they discuss their calls and their lives. In the middle of SXSW where emergency help is only minutes away you watch as the crew struggles with calls that end with decomposing bodies, long frustrating searches for unknown addresses, snarled communication and struggles to keep patients stable over roads that rock the ambulance with deep potholes. Definitely not the place to fall ill on vacation. It's amazing to get this close to people's lives in another place.

Continental
This doc by Malcolm Ingram is astonishing. If only there had been better film shot inside the baths. No, no, not that sort of film. I mean the entertainment that miraculously appeared there. Bette Midler for example. At this movie's center is a man so interesting and complex that his own sexuality is a footnote. Steve Ostrow now teaches in Australia. His operatic voice is still credible. But his Continental Baths in New York City became a beacon that attracted not only gays for sex at a time of barely emerging freedoms but a series of unbelievable musical acts, a famous DJ and many celebrities. It must seem like fiction now to all involved. And more so to us.

William and the Windmill
This is a doc about a young man in Malawi who had to drop out of school during a drought and famine. Hungry for knowledge (and food) he tried to cadge school notes from friends still enrolled and finally resorted to borrowing books from a sad little library. One on energy encouraged him to try building a windmill and he succeeded in doing so. His story gets into the TED vortex and he is mentored by Westerners, eventually co-writing a book, going to a prestiguous PanAfrican prep school and enrolling at Dartmouth. Every moment you feel afraid that someone will take advantage of this bright, lovely young man. Or already has. You were never sure it wasn't already happening. It was a bit hard to figure out at the end of the movie if the story will remain a bright spot among many sad tales of this continent. One hopes so. This won an award and it's indeed a good story but the story drags a little in places and seems mired in waiting for something more to happen.

Pete and Toshi Get a Camera
It's 1963. People (especially free spirits like Pete and Toshi Seeger) did things like this: pack up the whole family and wander around the world. Toshi (mostly) used her 16MM movie camera while their teenage son recorded sound and Pete interacted with musicians: listening, asking questions, playing stuff himself. There are also family shots but this is mostly an amazing trip through our world told through ethnic music and dancing from fifty years ago. The original film and other artifacts are now in the Library of Congress, I believe. William Eigen has done a magnificent job of using these materials and modern day interviews to pull together this adventure into an amazing film. Makes one so glad that Pete's conviction for refusing to testify for Joe McCarthy was overturned and his passport returned.

Pit Stop
A friend is a producer. The blurb said 'small Texas town' and 'gay.' How could we not go? (Sorry for that LGBT fest, whatever it's called now, but your mission is compromised.) Very polished, sophisticated, great character development and...John Merriman...Austin's favorite character actor, playing straight and nerdy as only he can do.

Brothers Hypnotic
A father wants a band so he has lots of kids and teaches them music. A bunch of sons (one is not actually his child, three mothers involved) start a brass band called Brothers Hypnotic and take it all over. They do what they have to do. They don't sell out. Still...it's not how Pop thought it would be. Really quite fun and very interesting people.

Hawking
A brief history of the man who brought us the brief history of time. An interesting tale, narration by Stephen Hawking in his well-known computer voice. The movie is straightforward and revealing and the reenactment was not too sappy. (Even Stephen comments on how strange it was to see himself portrayed by an actor.) Hawking wasn't there but Stephen Finnigan, the filmmaker, took some photos and a video of the audience to share with him.

Loves Her Gun
How do we react when our feelings of safety are shattered? Is everyone who might protect us and comfort us merely in it for something for themselves? We end up with an ambiguous yet satisfying ending with none of the questions really answered. John Merriman, Austin's busiest character actor, plays against type and does so excellently. The lead (played by Trieste Kelly Dunn) is very good. The film borders on mumblecore (whatever that is, I've never really figured it out) but maintains too much story drive and character development to fall into that trap. (Although there are plenty of party and bar scenes with that usual vibe.) Great indie effort. We had to see this one because the writers are Laura Modery (who waited on us at Foreign and Domestic and used to write for the local Culture Map) and Geoff Marslett (who may have many credits but is most famous to me for starring in what is possibly the funniest 'bumper' (pre show short short for the fest offerings) of all time.

Twenty Feet from Stardom
I learned that my husband of many decades always wanted to be a backup singer. Really? This great film followed many of them (who are mostly, but not all, women). Darlene Love and Judith Hall performed live afterward. A real treat.

Good Ol' Freda
Some gals are just good ol' girls. They don't use their serendipitous position as the secretary for wildly successful musicians for evil. They do the drudgery and then, when the Beatles split up, they just go on, being a mother and a secretary in less of a limelight. That is the story of Freda Kelly and it seems to be a fantasy. Even to her, now, as she goes through a few boxes in the attic and reminisces. She swears that she won't do it again after this. A wonderful film. We saw the last showing and therefore, I'm told, missed seeing Freda here.  A very unique perspective on the story of the Beatles and their ten years together that we've been told so many times before.

The Short Game
This documentary follows a group of very small golfers (6-to-8-year-old kids) through the paces of preparing for and playing in a world championship. This effort took the filmmakers all over the world and was incredibly involved but it is a stunning film. It won an audience award for documentary films and was thus being shown in a bonus showing when we saw it. I would have definitely given it a high score.

People at the Fest

It seems we were constantly having long discussions with people in line (after all there was almost as much line time as movie time).  These are precious to us when they turn out to be engaging people. This is where we've met some great people who have become life-long friends or just acquaintances that enriched our understanding of life a bit.

We met a gal who makes short documentaries for a Whole Foods sponsored WEB site.

There was a guy and gal from Poland who were couch surfing and attending the film fest. They were translators for a Polish film fest. They had flown to San Francisco then Austin and planned to rent a car and drive back to SF, seeing sights along the way. Someone had said they should to go to Marfa. I didn't encourage it.

A photographer we met on line for the biopic "Senna" last year explained a lot of F1 stuff to us. (Because he's an F1 fan.) We greeted each other like old friends when we saw each other this year. I've been following his exploits on twitter all year. He enjoyed the race, he said, and we told him we watched it on Speed TV which we only discovered we had on our cable that day. He said it's moving to a network, NBC I think.

An older couple (even older than us?) who live in the Monarch three months a year (or was it six?) and were taking their first whack at SXSW.

Many leading citizens such as Tom and Lynn Meredith and Deborah Green. Of course, those film-involved like Turk Pipkin and the many people in his movie like musicians Sarah Hickman and Marcia Ball.

We always visit a bit with Jette Kernion, of Slackerwood fame. She knows were to find us in the Paramount since we always gravitate to the same two seats. (We have now chosen two seats as permanently ours in the Topfer, too, so if we go to SXSW film again and if they use the venue we will become predictable there. The seats bear the names of some friends and are, indeed, their seats for Zach events.)

We saw Ruth Pennebaker a few times, once with her husband James Pennebaker. They are local treasures: authors and doers. We saw Jim Ritts, the ED of the Paramount and State, enjoying a few showings himself and Stephen Janisse who directs the film programming at Paramount and State, fussing about the venue as well. Ruth wrote this brilliant blog entry about her SXSW which makes me wince at my own and wish I could write like that. (Or knew that much trivia!)

We saw our friend and Austin's favorite waiter (although he's been unemployed for a year while Jeffrey's is renovated) Johnny Guffey at the showing of Before You Know It.

Of course, we saw other people involved with movies we saw: John Merriman, Kelly Williams, and Geoff Marslett and Lauren Modery.

We saw a lot of people who thought a lot of themselves, too. People with Platinum badges (access to film, interactive and music) who thought they should go to the front of lines. People who simply jumped the lines. (I'm looking at you fellow from Irving Texas.) We saw lots of interesting people on the street and very fantastical tattoos and fashion especially once music started. One homeless guy sang some songs for $1 donations. (FFP 'bought the movie rights' and made a video of him for $5.) One volunteer took her duties so seriously ("stand on this line" "you must curve around this way") that it must have been exhausting. She handed out queue passes in a line that couldn't have had twenty-five people for a 400 seat venue. Other volunteers were simply clueless. FFP encountered some who would minutes later be trying to set up intricate lines for Paramount and State who didn't know where the theaters were! (He'd gone for coffee for me and had to give directions from a block or less away.) Some volunteers were so busy discussing where to go with the free badges they'd 'earned' that we were answering questions about those intricate lines.

The Trade Show

We walked through once, but somewhat carefully. We didn't understand a lot of the stuff on display. We encountered a gal in the Duracell booth who was a fantastic salesperson. She was peddling power mats and these little gadgets to hold a charge for your phone. (We bought two of the latter.) We asked her if she sold all the time. Nope. She was just a temp they hired and was in nursing school. She has a great future getting patients to take their meds and get out of bed after their operations. We also picked up some tourist info about Montreal. Need to go there.

The Bottom Line

Was it worth our money and time investment? Hard to say. But we did see a number of films we might have otherwise missed forever and we enjoyed walking around ATX in the nice weather.

We took off one evening to see the staged reading of a friend's play. A welcome break and what fun seeing it come to life with a bunch of our friends.

It's entertaining to see these people from all over the world. It is good to force yourself into a different routine without leaving town. I only drove my car and played tennis once during the fest. FFP drove only to get to the play venue, I think. We caught a ride in one of the Chevy rides they give to advertise their cars.

Will we do it again? At the beginning of the fest I would probably have said  'no' but now that it's over and I'm sort of recovered? Probably.

Strangers Make the World Go Round

I've been sitting here hand-addressing holiday cards and, in many cases, writing a hand-written note to enclose with the 4x8 photo cards I ordered from Snapfish. Very old school communication with people that, for some reason, we know. I have decided to avoid pre-printed labels and even the return address stamp. Sure I may introduce errors but who gets hand-addressed communications these days? (Except those that are faked up with special fonts.)

But most of our world is propelled by relative strangers, by people who manufacture, package, drive, deliver, build, connect, repair, etc. And much of our entertainment comes from the people we don't know who walk through our world. As I mentioned on December 3, I enjoy watching people at home and when traveling who just happen by where I am.

In the picture above FFP chats with a woman who walked by the Berdorf Goodman window we were photographing it. I'd backed up for a picture and I caught, instead of the window in full, the two of them exchanging a pleasantry  I don't know what was said. If I'd spoken to her I might have said, "I love that coat!" But I did not. I'll will probably never know who she is and what her path through this world looks like.

I have for a long time been fascinated by the people in my travel photos who are total strangers. People who happen to be in the frame and then, most likely, are never encountered again. Their existence for me is tenuous and yet there they were in the same place in the space/time continuum.

Who Are You Again? And I?

[Photo at a Shop called Howl on South Lamar.]

When you reach the ripe old age of (insert mumbling dissembling here) you have met a lot of people. They have crossed your path in classes, at work, at play, at events, in your neighborhood, at clubs and bars. Some are family or close enough. Some are family of friends or people you met on trips or through random connections (e.g. social media). They are friends of friends or people you met a degree or two or more away from the initial friend.

If you are like me, you keep up with this crew in various ways. In your head, of course, in that compartment labeled 'people I know.' This mental database contains a lot of people who might actually know you and also the 'famous' (locally or otherwise) who have little chance of recalling who you might be. This jumbled mess is the reason that when I'm trying to remember a friend whose first name is, say, Robert, that a chef's last name or a movie star's might appear in what is my slow-moving train of thought.

My husband has two large Rolodex wheels crammed full of cards, many with business cards attached, others scribbled on. Many times he retrieves precious info from this gadget. Of course, I'm betting there are names and info for people he has completely forgotten, too.

My major contact list is in the form of a computer data base. Currently in a Microsoft Access file, it's been in at least two other computer data base forms (one was, I believe, managed by a data base program called, strangely, Paradox). This data base has been converted, updated and columns added over a long and tangled life. When I first designed the columns...I didn't include 'email' as a heading but resorted to typing them into 'comments' for a long while and I've never added a cell phone column, just putting the cell phone into comments when people had both and now, of course, just putting cell phone into the phone column now that many don't have a land line. When arranging big events, I added columns for 'adult count' and 'kid count' and 'hotel/air.' I added some columns along the way to aid selection for mail/merge like 'XMAS' and 'TEMP.' The thing is a hot mess but a very important data base to me and because I'm too lazy to convert it again, I've had to buy new versions of Access (or Office Professional) along the way.

Of course I have contact information collected in phones and e-mail programs, too. I had the same cell phone for a decade from Sprint. I once typed all the contacts in it into a word document. I saved this in an Evernote (a program that allows you to have notes to yourself in browsers and on gadgets). The iPhone conveniently offers to call the things that look like phone numbers. Gradually some of these are added to my iPhone contact list which is, however, pretty short because really who phones people any longer? And I'm not really into texting either.

Then there are people (and groups) that I 'follow' or have listed as 'friends' or 'professional contacts' or have placed in 'circles' on social media.

There is overlap in all these databases from the mental to the modern social media. I also confess to having found a few printed phone lists the other day from jobs I had which I've never thrown away because they help me remember who these co-workers actually were. Or their names anyway.

There are people in that mental data base who've never made it to any real contact list and who aren't on social media (or not connected with me there). I might say 'hi' to these folks, I might have even had dinner with them, worked closely with them on something or sat through meetings for some charity. But I couldn't come up with an address or phone number on a bet. (Although phone books and Internet searches might do it. And private clubs we belong to have directories.)

I added three columns to the computer data base the other day. One to try to summarize how I came to know the person at first point of contact and one to rate the likelihood of ever communicating with them again. Then a third to describe what the current relationship is. There were a number of people in there who, honestly, I don't have any idea who they are. I should have put a comment in when I added them. I know that a few were friends of my dad's mostly and that I added them to this database to invite people to his 90th birthday party a few years ago. I should probably just delete the names but couldn't bring myself to do it. Some I knew pretty well myself through him and I've had to weed out the ones who died. Every year during holidays or while selecting names for a party list, I delete the dead people. Sometimes you just wipe out the line. Sometimes you have to remove the name of one half of a couple. Just a few days ago I had word that someone died. I found that I didn't have a snail mail address for a sympathy card. This couple had moved around and even though I'd been to an event at one house they had I had zero points of contact in my head or elsewhere. Only the dead person in the couple was on social media. There has been lots of press about what happens to people's social media feeds when they die. I don't really find it morbid or weird or anything myself. What's the difference between that and a hand-written Christmas card list? We got a Christmas card in my in-laws mail for both of them during the holidays. He died in January and she died in November. Someone didn't get the word. Anyway, we found the address for our sympathy card (where this digression started) by e-mailing a friend who we knew was close to the surviving partner.

That's one reason I like being on people's Christmas card lists: you keep up with their addresses. When I receive holiday cards, thank-you notes or invitations, I always pull up my data base and double check the address, spelling of names, zip codes etc.

But...life goes on. People enter and exit. And they don't always exit by dying. Sometimes we just never see them again. Sometimes that's how we'd wish it, sometimes not. You just sort of never know, especially about casual friends and acquaintances.

I began this digression several weeks ago. Since then a friend who lived here in the high rise died. The enormous number of connections he had and we had with him came into sharp relief. And there's his record in my database, his number on my phone. Eliminating them is too fraught today. Another time. And when I attend a memorial for him that's coming up I'll look around and realize how his connections overlap with mine in unexpected ways and also wonder more than once "what's that person's name?" and "are they in my database?"

When I started writing this it wasn't about death. And really, it's still not. But as with everything else, death has a way of sneaking into every conversation and changing all the parameters.

People You Know

Yes, Visible Woman is back after a long drought. I'm participating in Holidailies, a project courtesy of my friends Chip and Jette. Lots of other people are blogging daily (or some semblance thereof) for the rest of the holidays as a gift to themselves and others. So click through to the portal if you arrived at this new entry only to be bored with Visible Woman all over again.

Now onward to my first Holidaily of 2009:

This is a photo of Barbara Hammond and Colum McCann taken at Ulysses' Folk House in downtown Manhattan on June 16, 2009. I like the cigarette lighting ritual between these two friends. The point of using this picture today is just to show some interesting people to accompany this piece. These are some people I know a little. In Colum's case, I was introduced and that's it. (By Barbara.) In Barbara's case we met her at the Austin Film Festival and have corresponded and met up for some Bloomsday activities in New York, had some meals and drinks. (The picture was taken at one of the Bloomsday things at the Ulysses' place where we met Colum.)

How many people do I know? By 'know' I mean I have met them and, if we meet again, I will sort of know I know them and they might recognize me. Not celebrities or notables, local or otherwise, that would never in a million years be able to identify me. But people I am actually acquainted with and who would have at least a small possibility of knowing who I am, etc.

I doubt if Colum would remember me if we met again. Fact is I had to dig in brain and Internet to get his name right. I read this piece in the New York Times the same day I met him. He's a published author so there you go. But I'd forgotten his name's exact spelling and I haven't even read any of his books. Barbara is a playwright but we've exchanged enough e-mail and conversation that I feel like, more than that, she's a friend.

Through Barbara we met a talented niece of hers who happens to live in Austin. We had some food and drink together. We're facebook friends. I'd say I know her a little.

All these people. That one sort of 'knows.'

I have a database of contacts for mailing reference. There are 557 entries in it. I know plenty of people, some quite well, who aren't on this list because I've just never had snail mail correspondence with them or for some reason not added them to this database or had them on it and then deleted them because I lost track of their mailing address and other contact info. Then there are hundreds of contacts on my e-mail address book and some overlap with the mail database. There are facebook 'friends' (who are these people? I sometimes wonder). Based on this evidence I'd say I know a thousand people, probably two thousand counting spouses, children, dogs and hangers-on. Not that all of them could recall who I am, but most would.

Occasionally we need to canvas our 'contacts' looking for willing donors for some cause or, more often, to populate a social event. It's an interesting exercise to, for example, try to have a party for 10 people or 50. Who to choose? How many will say 'no.' How many will say 'yes' and not come? And we try to do an annual holiday mailing. When we moved in 2008, we did moving announcements. Then we have to choose who to create mailing labels for. We usually create 200-250 labels representing, I don't know, maybe 400 people.

This time of year I go through the over 500 names in the data base and adjust a column labeled 'XMAS' putting 'Y' in it or erasing it and thinking about the person or family. Who are they? How did I meet them? Are they still together? Are the kids still living at home? Did they send a card lately? And sometimes, sadly, I delete a name or an entry due to death. Or, if I don't hear from them often, I wonder...are they still alive?

At the end of the day, I think the holiday card thing is really just an attempt to come to grips with a certain group of people I know, reach out and receive the dreaded 'no forwarding address' for some and, for others, receive in turn cards, Christmas letters and who knows what. In today's world I guess it would be like writing on the wall of all your facebook 'friends' or something. Some cards go and don't come back but otherwise you have no evidence they've arrived.

My cards are out this year. There's been a certain amount of synchronicity. I was labeling one card to a relative's family when FFP came in with the mail from downstairs and there was a card from that family. I was reviewing a card address for a very recent widow when I realized FFP was speaking with her on the phone. I told someone Sunday night that I received their card and they said "I got yours! They must have crossed in the mail." I am more pleased with this than I have any right to be and my friend seemed to be, too. Makes no sense really. And I'm wondering what will replace that feeling when printed and stamped mail is well and truly obsolete.

In case you are still reading...here are some past thoughts on holiday cards and such: last year's holiday card wrap-up; a note after sending cards in 2007; a wrap-up for 2006. Anthropologists are welcome, in the future, to examine all this. There's more, too, buried in my old blogs. But it makes me tired seeking it out.

Companions

I sometimes wonder how I'd get along without FFP. (Pictured here in my shop window reflection fashion.) I don't like how that plays out in my head, to tell you the truth.

Oh, I do lots of things independently and do have friends and relatives who provide some help and comfort.

But I rely an awful lot on FFP. Not just his handling of many of the details of our lives (social, chores, financial). I also rely on him to be there to reassure me that whatever I'm doing is OK. He did this throughout my career. He does it now when I go off and play tennis or work out instead of doing chores or accomplishing anything in retirement. If I goofing off, he says it's OK. so I can do things I should be doing when the spirit moves me without a lot of guilt.

It's also good to have someone around to talk to, to bounce things off of, to laugh at things with and to share discoveries with. We are always reading something aloud to the other one or showing the other one something on the WEB.

Right now I should be doing some cleaning and going though my inbox and updating the budget. But I feel like blogging, drinking coffee and reading the paper. Which I will do. FFP will say it's OK. That I deserve it. That he "isn't doing anything worthwhile either." (Which may or may not be true.) Or he just won't say anything and I'll know it's fine.

I'm always so pleasantly surprised when I look up and realize he has taken out the recycling or trash, cooked some salmon, done the laundry, done some other chore.

Yeah, but mostly I just like talking to him, watching movies with him, listening to music with him. I don't mind spending some time by myself. I even used to take vacations apart from him and spent a lot of time away on business trips.I did fine on those trips. Enjoyed my alone time to some degree.

But I'm comforted that we will be together again when we're apart. Sitting home reading in our separate chairs or back-to-back doing something at our computers. Going out to eat, just the two of us, taking along our books or magazines to read. Going out with others knowing that we'll both probably want to go home at the same time.

This morning I was playing tennis. There were only three of us so I took on the other two for three sets of "California" or "Australia" doubles where you play against two people but they don't get to use the doubles alleys. I was having a really good time and thinking what a good time I was having. FFP has only played tennis a few times and isn't into it. But I felt good when it was over and, on my way home, my cell rang and he said he'd been working out and was going to shop for groceries for us and his mom. So, yeah, as soon as my independent activity was over I was happy to link up with FFP.

It's no wonder, I guess, that I feel that he's essential. I've been married to him more than half my life. Amazing.

Flash Writing

Photo was taken on Second Street and flash went off. Usually I discard these, but this one I like because it looks like a mannequin is lighting something in my face. Anyway....

I decided to 'give' myself some writing time today. I had in mind to do a little cleaning while I was tossing around a few last dreams this morning. Then FFP informed me that we might meet a playwright/film maker for coffee. (This gal is lives in New York and we met her at a panel where after she had ask a question about adapting plays for the screen, FFP asked her a question afterwards about her work.) And he said we'd do that coffee at Jo's. The Jo's on SoCo, not the one three blocks away. I was bleary from being up late. (After the movie last night I read and drank a beer.)

We did hear from her and we tried to make it down there by 8:45 but it was after nine when we got there. We had a long and interesting talk with her and by the end of it we made a plan to perhaps see movie(s) together tonight. FFP and I also decided that we would do Bloomsday in New York City next year.

FFP had to hustle up and walk back to the condo and get his car to go to lunch in the hinterland. (OK, Hyde Park). I decided to take some pictures along SoCo for Austin, Texas Daily Photo and to grab an early lunch. After a bit of snapping, I sat at the bar at Enoteca and had potato and fennel soup with truffle oil and an avocado sandwich. Then I took a turn around Uncommon Objects and walked back.

I was determined to do some of the cleaning I had planned. One way we are trying to save money is to do our own cleaning. Supposedly having only 1200 or so square feet will help in this regard. I'm not much of a maid, however. I don't have a good concept of what cleaning supplies to use and how to efficiently go from room to room. I have decided to use Swifter products. The duster, though, seems less satisfying than my feather duster. In any case, I like throwing some of the dirt right into the trash. Anyway, I did a bit of cleaning. I used to always have advice for the maid we used and get perplexed when she gravitated to things I'd already cleaned. I must say I'd almost rather do it myself.

After the cleaning I should probably have gone across the hall to the gym and exercised. I didn't however. I decided to give myself time to write, remember?

Oh, I was downloading CDs to iTunes. (I'm not sure why I'm doing this project, you may recall, since I don't have an iPod although I do occasionally listen on my computer. But I digress. As I did while I had time to 'write.' I decided to blog. And I wrote in my journal. I checked over the mail and looked up some stuff on our finances. (Another ugly day on Wall Street. I checked some stocks I own and some I don't.)

Soon it was time to shower up to go see a movie.

I was going to use a quote from Ulysses in whatever writing I didn't do. On page 640 on my edition the character Zoe says: "I'm very fond of what I like." Probably this was going to be the title for a blog entry I didn't do.

So it's time to go to a movie. So I couldn't possibly write a word beyond this sentence.

Smiles

We went to Larry Peel's 75th Birthday Benefit Roast on Monday. Caymus Vineyards provided some excellent wine and the ladies in this picture probably had a glass. Or two. Me, of course, Ann Clark, Diane Carr, Megan (Larry's assistant, her last name eludes me) and Deborah Peel. This was taken as the last of the party broke up. I showed Deborah's shoes on Austin Daily Photo. So I thought I'd show our smiling faces over here.

I am not getting enough done these days. I seem to swither, hovering over my 'to do' list, thinking that organizing it will actually get the work done. As if. Plus I continue to swither over my new computer environment and, I confess, enjoy learning some new things. It's a joy to type on this new sleek screen. I also confess that when I have 'duties' to take me away from the house and my 'to do' list that I am relieved. Today I am taking my dad to lunch, helping him tidy up the house and taking him for a haircut. And I have a board meeting this evening. On the one hand I'm delighted when there is a blank day on the calendar. On the other I'm glad something hanks me away. Go figure.

I've Been Touring

FFP and I don't normally do tours. We book flights, hotels, make reservations and go it on our own. That will probably continue to be our norm, but if Stuart Moulton, pictured above is putting together a trip, I'm there! We had a short jaunt to New York City under his care. We had a couple of weather-related flying setbacks, but Stuart's planning and execution was amazing. He's really a Realtor and the leader of Austin Cabaret Theatre but if you like food and cabaret shows (and fashion we understand from some other participants) there couldn't be a better guide to New York.

I took the picture of Stuart at the Cafe Carlyle after we heard Judy Collins (you heard that right!). More later on the trip, but thanks Stuart! I'm ready to move into the Palace Hotel and let you plan my life!

Philanthropy

Philanthropy is a process that is largely misunderstood by most of us. Here is James Armstrong receiving a proclamation from Mayor Will Wynn honoring him on February 23 with "James Armstrong Day." That day the Opera Ball will be held which is honoring him this year. James puts his name on donor lists and endowed the opera's Music school to be the James Armstrong Music School. At Ballet Austin's new home, the multi-purpose studio with a glass wall to the street was christened the "Armstrong/Connelly" studio for he and his partner. You might think people do this for attention, but really for most of us the attention isn't all that welcome. I worked on a capital campaign with James and he told me that his father taught him to never give anonymously. "My father told me that if your friends see your name," he said, "then they will give, too." People do give to honor one another's causes and it matters who is asking. My father never had much opportunity to be a philanthropist or to teach his kids about giving in the big leagues. But I've learned a bit from people like James who were kind enough to befriend us.

Which, of course, brings me to a line I came up with which is funny but also very, very true for me: "I always wanted to be a philanthropist, but I never had enough money!" I wouldn't enjoy the attention James gets but I would enjoy the giving and the power one's money has to change things. And thanks to James and others in our community like Ernest and Sarah Butler I would understand the power of using your name on your giving to influence others.

The End of the Recluse?

Photo was taken this morning on Congress. It's a reflection in the window of the sales office for the 21C Museum Condominiums. The soft Bug is part of the art exhibit in the sales office. The eventual building will include a showcase for contemporary art.

Yes, I got out of my cedar fever fog and out of the house both last night and this morning. Can't say as I'm over the drainage and such. Managed to coddle myself yesterday for the hours leading up to a wonderful dinner party. We bought the party as a package from the Ballet Austin fete auction. Included were everything for a great party but guests. We were allowed to have it in a fabulous home using their kitchen and dining room and beautiful flatware, china, glassware, chargers, etc. A florist made beautiful cubes of flowers for the table. A caterer prepared the food and provided waiters. Wines were pulled from the collection of a local connoisseur to match the food. A piano player from the ballet came by to play during the cocktail hour. FFP provided the people, inviting people to dine and visit and share experiences and world views. We met one couple we hadn't met before he invited through some connections. The party was stunning and the food and wine wonderful although I was suffering from a little dulling of the sense of smell and taste. I managed to reach a stasis with the allergy and get through the party with no coughing, sneezing and a minimum of nose blowing. It was really great. The owners of the house didn't sit down to dinner with us but did visit during cocktails and apps and after dessert. It is really special to have such great food, service and wine along with great conversation from interesting people. The generous caterer, florist, homeowner, cellar owner and piano player donated their time and talent and we gave the ballet a nice donation and a good time was had by all, I believe.

I was a little choked up after I got home, but after a few more drugs I got a good night's sleep and actually stayed in bed until the sun was streaming in our southeast windows. By 9:30 we were headed downtown. We went to Austin Java for breakfast and read The New York Times. Then we walked around and over to East Sixth and snapped a few pictures. I think I'm getting better, allergy-wise. But just to be safe I think I'll stay in the rest of the day and read the rest of the papers and drink hot drinks. Maybe I will continue sorting some files, though. More about that, perhaps tomorrow, when I talk about the TIB file.

Hoiday Cards 2007

No, this didn't appear on a card that I received. Although the bendie guys might appear on a card I send one day. Here some of them enjoy the offerings of the liquor cart.

I sent about 200 cards, I think. Only a couple were returned with bad addresses. I keep a pretty tight data base. I received, as of Christmas Eve, according to my data base, 98 holiday greetings. Twenty-one were (primarily) from businesses or charities. Seven included those mass mailing letters. Cleverest awards for those go to a guy I used to work with and to my niece who wrote from the POV of her one-year-old child. I like the letters. Keep 'em coming. Twenty-nine people wrote a personal note beyond the usual signature and 'happy holidays' or something. Thirty-five had photos of children, the whole family or some subset. I didn't count how many included pets but I think there were four or more dogs. Ten asserted religious themes enough to get that box ticked in the data base. And two were well into the 'peace' message. I think you see the trend. There are more people who send you pictures of themselves (or children or pets) than there are who assert religion or write a personal note or even a mass-mailing letter.

The dominant decorations seemed to be snow, holly, poinsettias. Innocuous and unoffensive. (Which is not to say that I'm offended by religious imagery or Santa Claus myths or any of the rest. I'm not. Bring on the manger, the elves. Fine with me.) My favorite card came from a business (but one run by a dear friend). It was a little fold-out three-dimensional wagon decorated with a wreath and the greeting to insert in it.

Not one card qualified as handmade. (We don't give handmade points for printing a letter on the computer or getting a photo card made.)

I enjoyed the ritual this year as much as in years past. It's better than gifts, lights, decorations and maybe even parties. Just a brief, once-a-year, howdy. A wave of the hand but still a connection.

My Bellwethers

Bellwether is such an interesting word. I think I always thought, hearing it, that it had something to do with weather. Maybe the bell part was the bell on a buoy or something else that rang wildly when the weather was changing. But no. Wether is a castrated male sheep. Such an animal might lead the flock. With a bell around its neck. Hence the secondary usage we have come to know: "a person or thing that shows the existence or direction of a trend."

The picture above is a reflection in the window of Lambert's touting Barbecue and Cold Beer and reflecting the new downtown AMLI construction. Lambert's shows a trend toward adaptive reuse among the new construction, one also reflected in the Ballet Austin building and the Long Center. My bellwether on the whether high rises will win over little two-story former stores with historic limestone walls will be whether, in fact, that strip of stores housing Las Manitas and such becomes a Marriott. My bellwether for when the boom in building skyscrapers was over in Austin (and in spite of those under construction I think it is over for this cycle) was the announcement of the Four Seasons project. The bellmen are still parking cars on the ground where it might be one day. Note that the W hotel complex has a fancy sales center but no sign of construction. (I do think it will get built in the nearer term but perhaps that is wishful thinking because I want a fancy hotel/condo complex near my new home, the 360 condos, with the Austin City Limits studio instead of a vacant lot.)

My bellwether for whether I will like movies, plays, music and lots of other things is whether FFP likes them. (Apologies for implying that there is anything like the original meaning for this word here!)

There are many people in my life who are reverse bellwethers. I have one friend who I know if she likes a piece of music then I will hate it. This is in spite of our very complementary feelings about food and wine. I have several friends who, if they would wear a piece of clothing, then you can be sure I would not. There are in fact lots of people that serve as reverse bellwethers for me. If they are buying, I should sell. If they are riding a trend, I should get off. This is very handy. One should be careful not to ignore people and media sources than can be uncanny guides if only reversed.

Well, that's me today, signing out, carefully avoiding the topics mentioned yesterday.

Life Cycle

I was driving down Jackson Avenue near Mopac a few days ago and saw a vulture trying to get a road kill squirrel out of the street so he'd be safe eating it. The squirrel still looked pretty fresh and the bird kept stepping on his tail.

What else is happening in my world? The city dug a hole in my yard, broke pipes for the sprinkler system and filled up the hole without finding the leak. I'm now suspicious that the leak is under a driveway. The whole futiule destructive affair took all day and the backhoe had a flat tire (which took hours to fix) and then kept dying. They finally got dirt in the hole and put some cones around it. The cones were gone by morning taken, no doubt, by young hooligans. Muddy tennis shoe prints led south.

My mouth problems come and go. Sometimes I feel almost one hundred percent. I have avoided taking any drugs (save alcohol of course) since Sunday.

We went to a party last night at the most amazing house. Good champagne was poured. Excellent food was passed and there was a display of meats, cheeses and patés that was amazing. The house had a library that was as big as the condo I'll move into with a higher ceiling. A ladder rail gave access to the highest of the lovely wood shelves. The house was full of art. The party was to introduce the people doing the 21C Museum Hotel project here. All the museum bigwigs and Heritage society people and lots of other luminaries were there. Can't say how we got invited, but it was worth it to see the beautiful house which is tucked away off a street I travel often. The use of art and native stone made this place a beautiful retreat. While valet parking was a challenge, the house itself absorbed a huge crowd. FFP enjoyed a long talk with Gary Cartwright. At one point we found ourselves in the media room where a trio was entertaining a very few people. Michael Barnes sat down to talk about the difficulty of making all the parties and events he must write about. I wouldn't dream of having to do it like he does. Although I'm often glad to be many of the places I bump into him. I'm always amazed at how many people FFP has written about in his column. Last night we bumped into an artist he'd written about several years ago. I suddenly remembered seeing her work at the house of someone else he'd written about. FFP often has the biographies of the people around us in his brain. That doesn't keep us safe from bumping into someone who seems to know us and know when they met us who doesn't seem familiar at all. Disconcerting.

I had lunch yesterday with a friend of mine who has retired but writes plays. He keeps up with this blog and so I don't have to catch him up too much on what's happening in our usually once a month lunches and we plunge right into weighty discussions.

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.