Joy

Sometimes it's the simplest things. I'm giving myself a break from cares for the day.

We exchanged gifts. FFP gave me a book. ("My Bookstore: Writers Celebrate Their Favorite Places to Browse, Read, and Shop."). I gave him a stud and cuff link set. He also got me my favorite bath product earlier and I 'let' him buy a driving cap and fedora.

We shopped a used video and music store that's going out of business. (Cheapo Disks.) Bought some weird movies and old TV for next to nothing.

We ate at a new, fancy oyster bar. Some raw oysters and some delicious chowder.

I could be doing financial stuff or cleaning. But I'm going to read and watch videos or TV and drink coffee.

Later we will meet four friends at Ruth's Chris for Christmas Eve dinner.

Joy.

Exploring the Neighborhood

The wonderful Gail Chovan, designer and owner of the South Congress shop called Blackmail, does some fabulous windows. This Christmas it has a black tree and across the panes it says 'I see a green tree and I want it painted black...

I love shooting interesting shop windows reflecting the street scene and, of course, us in our walking garb.

One of the joys of walking SoCo are the wonderful shop windows and the variety of people there. You not only get a little validation for your odd feeling about the holiday from Blackmail's window but you can ponder who might like to receive a silver head for Christmas as you check the windows at Tesoros Trading.

And you can go inside Uncommon Objects and imagine who'd rather have a hand or two.

Yep it's definitely weird shopping. You can find some great stuff, though. I love going through the old postcards and photos and seeing toys I had as a kid fetching big prices at Uncommon Objects. (They say not to take pictures, but I do anyway. So sue me.)

I have this idea that I will carefully explore all the places within two miles of our house. That I'll explore the shops and restaurants and hotels and sidewalks and shortcuts and construction. That I'll visit the museums when they have new shows and catch performances at the theaters. And note the interesting houses and yards and yard art. There is too much to really keep up with, of course, within two miles of my house. Within walking distance. That amazes me.

Pleasing the Public

If you had a store, what would you sell? (Here we have some of the wares recently on display at Mercury Design Studio on Second Street.)

If you wrote, would you blog, twitter, make facebook notes and updates? Would you labor quietly in your corner on the computer or in longhand on legal pads writing short stories, essays, novels? What would you give the public?

If you were a visual artist, would you make photos, collages, oil paintings, acrylics? Would you represent things realistically? Abstractly? Small works? Big? Sculpture? In what?

Would you insist that people pay to read or look? Or would you just be happy to create and give it away?

Art is a series of choices, but a lot of them, I think, seem pre-ordained to the chooser.

I've been working on a novel that I've been kicking around for a long time. Over two years. The main character is clear in my mind. However, the secondary characters are not. And I apparently can't keep up with the main character's given name. I am working on it, though, not for the public but just as a project that keeps me thinking and researching the peripheral ideas.

I am writing this blog entry, however, why? Because some people don't won't to read twitter updates, facebook comments and look at a blog that is largely about straight-up pictures of Austin. And you have to give your audience something even if it's a weak effort and even if there are very few of them. Not producing anything? Yeah, that's a choice, too. But it seems weak to me.

Getting a Handle on It

There is something I want to do. A goal is lurking out there. Do I want to write? Do I want to make collages? Do I want to research something? Maybe study some obscure historical or technical subject. Throw myself into raising money for a good cause? I think there is something. But I'm not sure what it is.

There is still plenty of 'need to do' activity lurking, of course. Wednesday I attended a couple of meetings at the club. (And got righteously frustrated listening to two issues I have really, really heard quite enough about. Settle them already and move on.) I had to pick up a prescription for my dad and also take him to a doctor yesterday. That and a workout pretty well shot the day. I spent a bit of time on financial shenanigans (not in the Madoff sense, just in the balance checkbooks, pay bills, calculate cash flow sense). There wasn't time for much else especially since we decided to go out for a Happy Hour drink and snacks. There is always some dalliance to displace from any serious endeavor whether it's the must do cleaning and errands or writing a novel or whatever creative and questionably constructive thing that might 'fulfill' me. We really dallied at Ruth's Chris on Wednesday because all the owners were there, they had Guy Forsyth behind the bar, friends wandered by. (One said she moved to Austin on my 50th birthday and was invited to the blow-out party I had by a friend. I had no idea she'd been there.)

I started writing this entry yesterday (Thursday) and decided to displace from it to clean the main bathroom and the bedroom. Then when I got back to it I decided to pick up the fragments of the novel scattered in blog entries and assemble them in a document and work on it a bit. So I did that. It doesn't feel like a particularly profound or necessary piece of work, but I'm thinking that I'll work on it nonetheless. Until some other idea comes along. I've also been working with a children's programming language called Scratch. Ostensibly I'm doing it so I can show it to my nieces for my great nephews and great niece. Really it's sort of fun and I'm interested in the formal logic behind the point and click object-oriented language. Invented at MIT, it is the modern equivalent of the 'turtle graphics' in the old LOGO language. I'm not thinking of getting into programming again. But I am thinking of studying the higher concepts of languages. It is infinitely fascinating to me even though the curtain has been pulled back for me for years and I understand conceptually how it all works. We all think what we are doing on the computer (or a phone or other gadget for that matter) is the interaction. But some levels away the chips follow instructions that are 'hard-wired' into them. And typing a sentence does a plethora of things starting with sending a key from a USB gadget (in this case). I understand this, but I still fall into the 'interface is the message' mode. Programming anything, even coding HTML, removes one from this false world into the inner workings a little, backing up a level.

But I digress. So, yes, I've been fooling with a programming language for kids, making 'sprites' move across a 'stage' sometimes leaving tracks or reacting to other sprites or the edges of the stage.

But I did pull the novel fragments out of this blog and edit and add to them a bit. I have about 3500 words. In that version. There are other versions lying about with completely different character names, events and time lines.

Anyway, I can't seem to finish a blog post. (Let alone a novel.) So I'm going to sign off on this rambling bit and hope that, having this drivel out of the way will help me move on. Yeah. Good luck with that, as the kids say. And move on to...where?

[Photo taken at Mercury Design Studio last weekend. They really come up with some weird goods!]

Consumer Price Index

I read a post on Holidailies, guided there because it was a Best of Holidailies selection. A detailed tale of managing a severe cash shortage. I need these things to remind me that we are lucky to usually have the cash to pay the bills and to send to relatives at this time so their holiday can be less stressed than this person. In fact, my niece who was designated to be Santa for stockings and kids' gifts with my money said in an e-mail: "We have presents for ALL! HO HO HO. Ok we have little presents for the big people and big presents for the little people. Ain't that just the way of the world?" They don't have a lot of money but they do have food, shelter and some gifts for the holidays. I worry that one of my nieces' husbands will lose their job. Or that my other niece, who has been waiting tables on the weekend while her husband looks after the kids to make ends meet, won't be able to make enough because of the downturn.

In this house we are thankful that we are in a position to not worry how to pay for gas in the car. We can go out and eat, have drinks, give money to our charities. Heck, in this condo we haven't even had to turn on the heat so far this winter let alone worry about how to pay our electric bill to pay for heating.

But. Sometimes the price of things just stops me in my tracks.

We went to a UT Women's Basketball game yesterday. (The women won, beating Tennesee who was ranked just below them in the polls.) Years ago (really a long, long time ago) we gave a small endowed scholarship to UT for a woman athlete studying journalism or communication. Really, we gave this so long ago that I think it was our first major donation to anything. Anyway, they send us tickets to Women's Basketball and we attend and, if we ask, they give us admission to the booster 'club' before the games. Yesterday we went in there. I thought I'd have a beer (which you cannot buy in the stands). After the bartender pulled a Shiner Bock, I was readying a dollar for a tip when she said the price. Seven dollars. Seven dollars? This beer is made in Central Texas. No one, anywhere, not even at the Four Seasons had ever charged me seven dollars. I don't think anyway. (I'll have to check the Four Seasons although I usually drink wine there. Haven't been there in a while.) Anyway, plastic cup, belly up to the bar service. Seven dollars. I had the money. It just shocked me. I didn't have an extra dollar, though, and the quarters in my pocket were to ride the 'Dillo bus back to downtown. So if that bartender was counting on me tipping, well I was too flabbergasted to do it.

I am glad I have money for a beer here and there, out in some public place where they can gouge you. I paid $4.50, plus left the half dollar for the bartender, for a Fat Tire, poured from a bottle into a plastic cup, at the Armadillo Christmas Bazaar Saturday. Expensive but not gouging so much. There was admission to the place, but there was live music.

Anyway, I'm just saying. Just because I have the money doesn't mean I won't balk at a certain price level. I'll never buy a drink at a game again. And, by the way, that 'Dillo bus used to be free. (Unless you consider that the Capitol Metro gets a cut of our sales taxes.) The transportation guys were trying to promote less driving of cars in downtown. Now it costs fifty cents. But, sadly, yesterday the two buses we rode were empty except for us. We missed one bus, which we saw pass us, empty, as we walked to the stop. So the transit folks are paying for empty buses going around and around downtown and UT. With my tax money. It's sad. I wonder how many people would ride if it were free. It does matter what you charge. Especially now when people literally don't have it in their pockets (or in a failing bank).

I noticed it said in the newspaper that miles driven in the U.S. dropped before the run up in gas prices and kept dropping when the price came down. Yeah, people. Some people don't have jobs to drive to, money to spend at the mall and they certainly aren't hankering for an out-of-town excursion with maybe a hotel stay if things are tight. So price makes a difference but some people won't be able to buy, no matter the price.

When I went to the convention center Saturday to the Christmas Bazaar, I noticed there was a sale of National Geographic products in another area of the center. Giant piles of discounted books, maps, toys, some backpacks and the like. Maybe National Geo had a mail-order biz or mall stores and were closing out the stuff. It was interesting because people had their carts piled with stuff. Maybe they were getting a toy or book for everyone on their list for ten dollars or less, thinking what a bargain it was. There were guide books to New York City and the like. Maybe it's good reading even if you can't afford the trip. The lines to check out purchases were longer than the ones at Costco the other day. And there, as I mentioned the other day, the carts were full of food.

Times are hard out there for our neighbors. Businesses will fail, people will suffer. And I don't think it will be over soon. And more and more people will be looking at prices and wondering 'is it worth it?' I just wish the politicians would do the same. What price for each job saved and for how long? It all seems like fodder for my Journal of Unintended Consequences which I just can't seem to write for these days. Perhaps because there is just too much to say.

[Reflection is in the Spaghetti Warehouse glass, a venerable family place on West Fourth in an old train shed. We never go there and I imagine it is seeing less business these days. But who knows?]

Depression and Christmas

How is Christmas in the Depression? Yeah, the economic kind. Although that other depression crops up, too, doesn't it? This time of year. Even catches up with people who didn't get laid off or have mutual funds or whatever.

My mom, pictured above in 1978 working on a homemade Christmas decoration, loved Christmas. She trotted out her brightest red clothes, decorated everything, made a lot of food and invited everyone over. Today's Holidailies writing prompt is to share a recipe. Besides the peals of laughter from those who know me at me giving cooking advice, I just couldn't even get into sharing a cheesy spinach casserole my mom and I used to both enjoy preparing. But I digress, this is about Christmas and that other kind of depression. But, come to think of it, times were never very flush for my mother, back in the day when she made such a fuss over holidays.

Yesterday I had to go to my dad's neighborhood and do a couple of things for him. I decided to check out Costco if the parking lot didn't look too horrible. Dad needed paper towels and I thought I'd get one of those giant packs for all the families we shop for to share and pick up some cheese. But not if the store was overrun with people buying electronics and toys and, you know, Christmas presents. I got a pretty good parking place (it was a weekday, but two weeks before Christmas??) As I went around the store getting cheese, yogurt dip, paper towels, toilet paper, Ibuprofen, chips and crackers (stocking up for the holidays), I looked in the other people's carts. This is something I frequently do, finding what other people buy sort of fascinating.

What struck me about the shopping carts yesterday at Costco? I didn't see any toys. Two people had some Christmas wrap or tags and one lady had some gift-packaged candy. Most carts had basic foods, paper goods, snack trays or foods and wine. Lots of wine. I didn't see anyone buying cameras, computers, iPods, luggage, toys or other gift items. Mine was a small sample, of course. I did see several people taking an interest in a gingerbread house kit and one guy buying those fake log things for the fireplace. (It was cold and windy out.)

It was just one moment at Costco, but I had the feeling everyone was getting ready to hunker down, to cocoon with their loved ones and eat.

In the evening a friend and I wandered out of our building to get a bite and a drink and encountered several Christmas parties...two occupying all or part of a restaurant we couldn't therefore get into and a third occupying a big table and part of the public area of the place we finally settled on to enjoy our bites and libations. I'm sure these events had been planned for a while, of course.

I'm thinking that people are eating. And drinking. And thinking of staying home and sharing fewer gifts but maybe more conviviality. The depression may have forced our hand in the matter. And that other kind of depression? Well, it always sneaks around me this time of year, but this year is no worse than any other.

Dirt and Stuff

Trying to be my own maid (and secretary and bookkeeper) is always a challenge. (No, that's not the floor of my closet. The photo was shot in Uncommon Objects Sunday. I resisted becoming a typewriter collector and I haven't owned a pair of boots in years although I'm often tempted.)

Yesterday and the day before I tried to move some of the dirt around and straighten things a bit. On Tuesday I ran out of steam after giving the main bath a good cleaning. Yesterday I managed to do a lot of dusting and to vacuum the floors and the one small rug. I usually just use one of those Swifter things but, occasionally, you have to suck it up. The dirt that is. I didn't move a vacuum here and haven't bought one. (I'm not sure where I could store it for one thing.) My friend who lives on 11 has one that I borrow. So added to having to get it out and use it, I have to go upstairs, haul it down and later take it back. I've seen that several people have those robot things that go around apparently on their own vacuuming. Hmmm. Anyway, I needed to give the kitchen a good cleaning, too, but I haven't got around to that. I thought I might do that this morning but writing on my holiday postcards (secretary) and updating our budget (bookkeeper) with last night's eating and drinking indiscretions and, well, blogging have taken up the time. And I need to exercise before I go eat a big Thanksgiving meal at the club.

I have to say that we are very circumspect about buying stuff these days. The condo can't swallow stuff like the old house where I had a walk-in closet in the bedroom and seven other closets and a storage room, wine storage room, walk-in pantry, tons of kitchen cabinets and drawers, many file cabinets, desks with drawers, beaucoup bookshelves built in and free-standing, media cabinets, a double garage, etc. etc. Sure we have crammed as many storage opportunities as possible here and given away much of what occupied that space, but it does seem, well, finite. Very finite. That's a good thing, I think.

My in-box on my desk is full of things I need to do, though, and my files and some boxes in the extra closet need sorting and trimming. I didn't succeed in getting here with everything trimmed down and organized.

This closed-in feeling has brought me up short for Christmas shopping. FFP and I don't do much for each other, usually, just giving blessing to something the other person would want or need anyway and getting what we want for ourselves. We usually buy some token gifts for the parents. (Book for my dad, audio tapes for dad-in-law and a calendar or soap or something for mom-in-law.) But in years past I've bought gifts for friends, toys for my great nephews and niece, gifts for my sister and brother-in-law and nieces, etc. I just can't do it this year. Everything time I look at on-line come-ons or ads in the paper or stock in stores I feel that the stuff is not desirable but burdensome. So I've completely abandoned the nieces/sister crew to their own devices with an economic stimulus package of checks from me with minimal instruction. If friends bring me presents, I won't be prepared to reciprocate unless I buy a few emergency things but I haven't gotten the spark to do that.

This morning's paper was groaning with ads for deals tomorrow (Black Friday). As I looked through them I thought, "But you would have to pay me to go to the store tomorrow." So I tossed them all.

Ah, well, the more stuff you have, the more dirt you have to deal with. And this season seems to be rife with useless things. My not favorite: a marshmallow shooter. Huh? What's wrong with toys like Slinky? (The woman who ran the company making that classic toy died recently.) But a marshmallow shooter? Can you think of anything messier or stupider? Can you even plug an iPod into it?It seems all the gadgets have an iPod dock. Even now that I have an iPod I'm not tempted by these things. I do still want a new digital camera (or two) and a GPS. (I saw an ad for one digital camera that had a built-in GPS to identify where you took the picture. Which I want but in a smaller camera.) But I haven't had the umph to not only spend the money but learn to use them and sort through all the accessories, etc.

I'm just pretty bah humbug, I guess. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and dusting stuff in between. I do notice that things get dusted around here that wouldn't have at the old place. The maid didn't dust very much, but I always expected her to do it and wouldn't do much myself. And, of course, there was so much more stuff getting dusty and square feet of places to pile it. So...things are cleaner now in the smaller space, I think, even with my bungling attempts at being the maid.

As I write this final paragraph I've failed to work out much (a few weights) and made it through a Thanksgiving buffet with all the parental units. I'm sleepy. Maybe I'll nap while not cleaning or working on my Christmas cards.

And It Begins

We knew there would be fallout. (Of course, the precipitous decline in the stock market has already sucked the value out of our retirement funds sufficiently to make a mockery of our net worth.) Now one of our banks has failed and is being taken over by another bank. Impact to us is likely to be minimal although both sets of parents have some CDs there and we have a business checking account, etc. and if there is annoying paperwork it is likely to fall to moi and FFP.

This reflection photo shows a shop on SoCo displaying a 'No Cash' sign. There have been a number of shops that have gotten windows smashed by people trying to get at cash registers so I guess this is the equivalent of the 'No Radio' signs you used to see in NYC.

Mostly this picture shows me in shorts. I don't usually do walkies (or anything else but tennis and workouts) in shorts, but I did this day. So, yeah, those are my 60-year-old legs.

I'm off for a walkie soon. In jeans, though. It isn't fifty degrees yet although it will be close to 80 before the day is over.

In other economic news...I broke down and bought an iPod. A classic with 120GB. I put over 6000 tracks on it that I'd downloaded from CDs we own. And I bought the k.d. lang track of "Hallelujah" although it doesn't hold a candle to the live performance. I won't be carrying the iPod around with me, though. I just wanted an easy way to put all our music on the sound system and since we have an iPod deck.... All the other gadgets I'm considering (multi-media projector, GPS, small laptop for travel, new pocket camera, a digital SLR) are still pending. And may pend forever. Although if we decide to go on a trip the laptop and GPS might rise to the top. I guess I should buy 'em all and fuel the economy. But, honestly, walking through Costco yesterday, I just didn't feel in the mood to drop coin. But at least I bought the iPod. I'm doing my part.

So, get up, get moving. Write about it later.

Welcome to Austin

My great nephew looks bewildered. It was a dizzying day for me. I had a workout and did a few things at my house but mostly I bought food like whole milk, Ritz crackers, bananas. Frosted Flakes and peanut butter and tidied up my dad's house. Three separate trips to get groceries (HEB, Costco and Randall's, don't ask), a rush hour trip to the airport and a trip to get some takeout for dinner later I had settled my niece and this young man into the house. (He was delighted to find that cabinets opened in Dad's kitchen though not in his at home.) He looks a little confused here in baggage claim. Before ten o'clock the rest of the Colorado gang arrived, my other niece, her husband, her small daughter and the brothers of this guy, six and eight, who erupted from the van sputtering about Game Boy and their night in a motel and other exciting adventures with their aunt and uncle.

I am fretting about the condo, the move, selling my house and a zillion other things. But I'm going to have to worry about kid-friendly restaurants, playgrounds, etc. for a few days. The kids are cute and their great-grandfather enjoys seeing them. (Although by Sunday he may not be enjoying so much since they are all seven staying at his house.)

I may not be posting for a bit. Much to do and need to spend some time with this crowd, too.

Just Don't Stop

In 2000, in a walk around our neighborhood I shot this picture of a vehicle that had sat, inoperable, long enough that nature was beginning to absorb it.

Yesterday, I was thinking "don't stop doing the things that are working!" Sure there are a thousand details I need to attend to vis-a-vis the big move and all the attendant duties and decisions. Sure I need to find more time for my dad and more time for writing. But since I retired I have managed to improve my health by exercising. Just don't stop.

I played tennis. We played for over an hour and a half, but it was doubles and, although I ran for a few balls, it wasn't much real exercise. Maybe just some stretching and movement. Not bad, but not cardio or weight-lifting. So. After the tennis I worked up a sweat and elevated my heart rate on the recumbent bike. And I did some ab work and a few weight things.

Only then (after doing the thing that has been most beneficial to me in retirement) did I go to my dad's house and deal with some issues with his Life Line and cell phone and then run an errand. (Returning one of our set top boxes to the cable company. Score one for downsizing.)

I wasn't very productive the rest of the day. I did juggle some financial stuff. And find some more books to propose for elimination with FFP. I took out garbage, folded some clothes FFP washed. In the evening my friend came over and we went for some dinner while FFP did yard work and made himself fish tacos. Then we went to Bed, Bath and Beyond and looked at various things but bought nothing. She rejected some bar stools they had as cheap in price but too cheaply made. I couldn't find the exact replacement pan I was trying to buy (although I should go to the outlet mall for it). I considered buying some new containers to store sweaters but decided to swither more about it. There is a sort of step stool I want to buy but they didn't have one. So we wasted gas but spent no money.

But you can't stop. You have to keep going forward. Otherwise, the ivy grows right over you. As it will do one day anyway.

Sore Must Be the Storm

Hope" is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest sea,
Yet never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

--Emily Dickinson

This picture was shot the other day on South Congress. At Uncommon Objects, of course. (This blog seems like an advertisement for them at times.)

My life should be a cake walk right now. I have enough money. I have things I enjoy. Tennis, exercise, dining out, reading, writing. I am pretty healthy, it seems. I have things to worry about, sure. The parental units. Moving. The future of ourselves and the planet. But ninety-nine point nine, nine, nine....percent of the people in the world could only wish for my circumstances. (And yours, probably, if you are reading this and will admit it. Although, yeah, I know I am really lucky.)

Still a little dark cloud sneaks in. While I was looking up the Dickinson quote I searched for 'depression' as well as 'hope' and found this anonymous one: "Depression is anger without enthusiasm."

I don't know where this little cloud came from. Was it my attempt to start writing a memoir in my head? (I started thinking a bit too much about what I had done.) Was it a series of little things that go awry and make life less than joyous? (My dad, who for his part maintains hope and good cheer with the best of them says: "There is always something to take the joy out of life.")

This I do know: Writing helps. Just writing down that I felt down makes me feel less so. It makes me feel silly for feeling that way. Makes me give thanks for the blessing of fingers painlessly touch-typing this sentence. It makes me happy to go play a bit of tennis and go about the chores of the day.

The Most Difficult of Subjects

No. It's not hard to write about shop windows. Sometimes family and love are a little difficult. But...money. Yeah, that's a tough one. Worked on a little essay about money for this space, but I haven't posted it. It's a gnarly subject. And today the stock market is crashing so it's an even more sensitive subject. Can you say recession?

This shop window reflection is from 2004. I can't see where I used in on my blog back then but I probably did. There are several things I like about it. Maps and globes, of course. But also the possibility that my hair is visible and wild. Of course, it could be a tree or bush!

The rain fell and while the weather was depressing it quelled my cedar fever. It left even the clay courts unplayable for tennis, however. I was bad about exercise yesterday, though. So I need a great workout today to make up for it. And I need to accomplish more than watching a zillion minutes of tennis, a French DVD and a program about how man made things would fall apart without man. (Yeah, History Channel. Not that great a show.) And reading papers and working crosswords. Because that's about all I did except for doing a few chores for my dad, lunch with a friend and a walk through Best Buy looking at things I didn't want. It was a Holiday for some working people and I took a holiday myself, I guess. But not today. Today I'm all about accomplishing things.

Who's a Turkey?

Me, I guess. We have two Thanksgiving celebrations planned. But I don't have a turkey in the oven. At the club they've been churning out turkeys and trimmings. We plan a brunch there with the old folks (combining a celebration of my father-in-law's 97th birthday as a part of it). A friend will have us over in the afternoon for drinks and another traditional spread. (Although she's been on a diet so I expect a healthier aspect to this one.)

So there are no aromas around our house this morning. It is cooler than yesterday. About forty degrees cooler than yesterday afternoon. The paper was weighed down with extra ads. Me, though, I'm done shopping at any actual stores. Having said that I'm sure I will find myself shopping some time between now and the conclusion of the 'after Christmas return and bargain fest.' But mostly, no. I'll be eating lots of turkey, though. That's so holiday!

I'm also not working out this morning. I have time to do it before brunch. But, no. I'm going to being drinking coffee and looking at ads for stores where I probably won't shop, not for over a month.

And this evening after turkey number two? I'd like to say I'd be doing something useful on the downsizing express. But really? Napping you think?

I Didn't Get Much Done

I had lots of free time yesterday. But I didn't get much done. I did an OK workout. And I went with FFP and a friend to a Heritage Society tour. My friend and I had coffee at Café Pacha and talked about the movie we aren't writing, taste, decorating and caffeine. (She actually sketched out a scene yesterday that is laugh out loud funny, but still I have faith that my block will stop her cold.) Pacha was buzzing even at three in the afternoon and we parked nearby and popped into the ceramics shop and the Home Girls to justify using their parking. (No one else was shopping.) There weren't any attractive tables inside so we sat on the back porch where we used to go with Chalow and my friend's standard poodle. Chalow is enjoying dog afterlife and the poodle had a bout of illness that cost my friend four figures after our last walk and so we sat there, dogless, and noticed this sign. We laughed that maybe ours wouldn't be allowed now anyway. (Although we always kept them seriously restrained on this little porch.)

When I went home, watching The Simpsons and King of the Hill and trying to work the Sunday Times crossword and having some beer and nachos and reading some more papers seemed so much better than actually accomplishing anything.

Fashion Emergency, Again!

There is a benefit that FFP really wanted to attend on Friday. The fashion designation is "Texas Flash, Texas Trash." He got an e-mail from the organizers with some suggestions for the ladies from Neiman Marcus. Yeah, right! I was thinking about black jeans, a silver lamé turtle neck and a tuxedo jacket. But I did suggest that I could use some boots. Now FFP is all over me to go out and buy boots.

The picture is recycled...taken at least five years ago in a junk shop.

Fashion Emergency

Yesterday's Wall Street Journal had a front page story about high-end stores and brands infiltrating (for want of a better word) smaller markets. Date line? Austin, Texas. This has certainly happened in the Domain center. (See fancy shop window here.) Anyway, in this article they quoted some women I know about how they had all these new designer gowns for the upcoming black tie season. Um. OK. They say the season will start tomorrow night at a gala for Ballet Austin. Um. Yeah. I was just planning on flipping through my various excuses for finery, none from designers of note. And going to that event.

I really envy men. A couple of tuxes, some suspenders, ties, cummerbunds, tasteful black pumps, maybe a white dinner jacket. The tuxedo look for women pops up now and then. I embraced the simplicity. I got a real tux tailored for me. Paired it with tuxedo shirts or a silver shiny turtle neck. I even have a white dinner jacket. I think I got it at a secondhand store for twenty bucks. This party is so early in the season, that FFP plans to wear his dinner jacket.

I have worn gowns. But designer gowns. Nope. I got married in a dress I bought for $35.

So tomorrow night, among the designer gowns, I'm be the one in some dowdy black velvet pants and some top I find in the back of the closet. It said in this column that the reporters ask women now what they are wearing. In other words, who designed it. Something tells me, though, that they won't be asking me!

By the way, the photo was taken Monday of the window of the St. Vincent de Paul thrift store on South Congress. I love the way the mannequin has tossed aside those uncomfortable-looking red high heels and adopted a bored sprawl more suited to a pair of old jeans. You can see yours truly (in a polo and jeans) snapping the picture. Oh, and speaking of those heels. Did I mention that I have a pair of flat tuxedo pumps and, whatever outfit I have, that's what I'll be wearing to festively inaugurate Ballet Austin's new home tomorrow night?

Where's My Hat? Where's My Head?

This is a shot of some junk on offer a couple of years ago at, I believe, Uncommon Objects on South Congress.

Here are some thoughts I've been having lately: (1) Do I need all these hats? (2) How many copies of James Joyce's Ulysses do I need? (3) How many flashlights do we need in the condo?

We have about four dozen caps, I'll bet. And hats, too. Some are mine. I never wear hats any more. A cap on the tennis court until it gets too grubby and I switch to a newer one. Or buy one at the pro shop when I've forgotten one.

I'm reading a copy of Ulysses I bought in Dublin. But I think there are two more copies of it in the house.

The other night the power went out. I know we have a bunch of flashlights around here but it took me a few minutes to find the first one, then to find two more for FFP and the house guest. (Finding the second and third was made easier by the first! Isn't it frustrating how you try to flip on lights when the power is out?) We'll have a lot fewer rooms and spots to put things in the condo. That'll be a good thing, I think. Bet I'll still forget where I put the flashlights. Of course, with the house you always have the ace in the hole of stumbling out to the car and getting one. I've stocked the cars with the wind-up type which dispels the disappointment of finding one with dead batteries. In the condo, the car will be in the garage a couple of floors down.

Yeah. I'm sure it would be better to ponder world peace, the war in Iraq or why the Texas Longhorns could barely win over powerhouse Arkansas State. Still. Hats, books and flashlights. Much more tractable.

Acquisition

Sunday we were visiting the South Congress area. Some businesses have moved or folded and the ones occupying space keep tending to the upper end of the scale. Uncommon Objects, its doorway reflecting us and the church across the street in this picture, has remained. Selling the odd and the end and always decorating their windows in an amazing way, they soldier on.

I've enjoyed buying things at Uncommon Objects. I've bought weird bookends, objects for the cocktail shaker (etc.) collection and some fake pastries. I once considered starting a fake food collection. Really. My problem for the years from the end of the eighties until 2002 was that I always had a rather large office at work tempting me to decorate with weird collections and stock it with books and such. And at home I had all this storage, many bookshelves. Every remodel (1994, 1996, 2004) brought an upheaval of moving stuff around that resulted in some divesting but eventually bringing more storage and more temptation. I had money and stuff was fun to shop for and look at. I dabbled in ebay. I went to discount stores. And I wandered into junk and antique shops and came out with stuff. People gave me presents. They were often inspired by my weird collections to give me really weird (but cool) stuff.

Given all the acquisition it is surprising that I'm not drowning in stuff even more than I am.

Much has been given away. Much has been thrown away. But I think I still have those fake pastries.

Feed the Rich...Desserts

I was torn about where to post this entry. Here in my regular journal (which my husband says makes our lives an open book but I don't really think so)? Or in the Journal of Unintended Consequences, my other blog, which is intended to capture the chaotic results from well-intentioned (or not) actions? I decided to put it here because somehow I thought that would be less controversial. I'm not really raising an objection to feeding the rich. Everybody's got to eat, you know, to sustain life.

The photo is of a sausage-shaped big cheese (I think) at Mandola's Market, posing with some of its sausage friends.

Now, I consider myself rich. I don't have any debt, I can budget for things like 'gifts' and 'donations' and 'eating out.' I don't work. Yeah. The idle rich even. Hasn't always been so, but I was never as poor as my parents or grandparents once were.

I've noticed that, when you donate money to things or you entertain friends or do them favors or people think you are going to do them a favor or donate money, people give you free food and booze.

I have often wondered if you could just live off this free stuff. For weeks at a time. I'm not really trying to do that and, besides, it would probably require lining your pockets with zip lock bags as my friend SuRu points out. But yesterday when I got up I realized that for that one day I could probably get by on what was free. So I decided to try it.

Now first off, I'm not a 'breakfast is the most important meal of the day' person. When I get up in the morning, I'm not usually hungry at all. I want coffee. Black coffee. And lots of it. So in my experiment I decided that I would allow myself unlimited coffee made in my very own Jura-Capresso E8. (See this entry also.) Of course, there are no calories in black coffee. Just a buzz.

During the morning, I went to my club and rode the recumbent bike for thirty minutes. The bike claimed I'd burned 200 calories. Just before I showered I weighed on the fancy-looking digital scales from Sharper Image that we bought when we decorated our remodeled bathroom. (See photo of bathroom in my old journal...the scales fit in with that decor. Hmmm...maybe FFP is right about the open book thing!) My weight was 163.6. Seems like the scale said just over 160 a few days ago. But it fluctuates. Who knows?

Around 12:20 we headed downtown. We got into a huge traffic jam at 5th and Lamar caused by the city's urge to close a couple of lanes of W. 5th every weekend. Still we found a parking place and found a bus that was taking the media around for a tour of markets as part of the Texas Hill Country Wine and Food Festival. I figured...free food! While we waited for the bus to depart I took a quick swing through the Saturday Downtown Farmer's Market. (I imagined when we were living downtown how I would stroll through the market and buy some vegies and greens and goat cheese for the week.) I got a free taste of some delicious Hibiscus Tea. I saw that the goat cheese and honey people had those tiny plastic tasting spoons. But I figured a small taste would just send my juices up too high.

The bus headed out to Mandola's Italian Market near our house. For some reason they used the surface streets. As we drove by the University I saw some homeless guys digging in a trash can. I was feeling a little hungry myself. Several eateries on Guadalupe (Milto's, Ruby's Barbecue, Zen, NeWorlDeli) suddenly seemed very attractive. As we filed into the market to get a talk from one of the owners we walked by outside tables where people were scarfing late lunches (it was 1:15 by now) of pizza and salad and anti-pastas and all manner of stuff that was looking increasingly delicious. But there were no samples! The best I could do was to grab a little bit of cranberry walnut bread out for sampling by the general public. I listened to the owner talk about the operation (their own winery, imported Italian groceries, baking almost all their own stuff, very interesting actually, etc.) and tried not to feel too hungry. We were given a goody bag. It contained a jar of artichokes and olives and stuff in a tomato sauce, a pack of three or four baked crackers and some biscoti and cookies along with one of those napkin/cutlery packets you get with takeout. On the way out I looked at the bread sample basket...but all the samples were gone. Darn! In the bus, I ate one of the crackers and a little cookie of some sort. That took the edge off.

We drove back toward downtown and over to South Congress and were soon at Cissi's Market. This was feed the rich nirvana! I took a glass of the offered white wine but fortified myself before drinking much with chips on sample. They had some Austin Slow Burn Salsa Verde out, too. Then they started circulating with platters containing tiny bite-size hors d'oeuvre. Ah, heaven. Vanilla-poached lobster with Shiraz grits. Little pulled pork sandwiches on cornbread the size of pill boxes. They had a lot, too, so we were encouraged to have multiples. I began to think I'd survive on my free food diet. I sipped a little wine. I had one bite of lemon bar dessert. I'm not much of a dessert person. That would be my downfall on this regimen. A peek inside our goodie bag from Cissi's revealed a sack of coffee beans, giant home-style cookies and chocolate!

Next we went to Farm To Market Grocery. It's been there on South Congress for a while. A tiny space stocking a lot of food and a few gift items, it has 30% local products including flowers out front that are from the Hill Country. The people there were really nice and were passing out goat milk ice cream, sodas and water. And they gave us goody bags with a private label chocolate bar and a Butters Brownie. Now, as I said, I'm not much on sweets. I actually had eaten a Butters Brownie a few nights ago. (There was a sample in the media bag we got.) The goat milk part tempted me on the ice cream but I just ask others how it tasted.

We headed west of W. Mary and located the P&K Grocery. This place was ultra funky and hip at the same time. They had taken an old building, used antique fixtures where possible and had some antique glassware and china and collectibles for sale. They had a deli counter with hot sandwiches and other stuff. They make their own pimento cheese and hummus and hot dog condiments. They sell goat cheese on a stick (lolipops!). That made my stomach rumble. But they weren't giving them away. They were giving away little square pimento cheese sandwich samples and freshly made lemonade. Also deviled eggs but for some reason I didn't get one before we got on the bus. I'd regret that. That 1.5 inch square sandwich wasn't going to hold me long. And their goodie bag had samples of their hot dog condiments. Which would have been great if someone was giving away hot dogs!

When we got home, I had some coffee and water. I was actually a little hungry. The only free thing that wasn't sweet was some of those plain crackers and that artichoke concoction Mandola's gave us. So I opened it up and had a little of that with the crackers. Later a bag of caramel corn Cissi's gave us (a private label product with a light hand on the coating, not at all like Crackerjacks) called to me. As I always do with such products...I checked the calories in the entire bag...about seven hundred and eighty! They were pretty good, sort of salty and sweet, but I stopped eating after only a couple of hundred calories.

A few hours later, we dressed up and went to a house over near Lake Austin. The party was free. Well, if you don't count the hefty annual donation that had yielded the invitation. When I saw plates of food, I found the dining room and filled a plate with tender beef, roll and butter, green beans, roasted root vegies, roasted purple and white fingerling potatoes and rice. The offerings seemed a bit odd...no chicken or fish and a lot of starch but I wasn't complaining. I took some of everything and polished off all the carbs and a few ounces of the beef with a glass of free red wine. (I had finished a glass of white I'd gotten coming in.) Later I had a coffee and three mini madeleines.

At home Forrest ate some of the caramel corn and so I finished the bag. I was tempted to grab a cheese snack from the fridge, but true to my word, I stuck to coffee and what the world fed the rich today. Which seemed a little heavy on the sweet side. Let 'em eat cake, I guess.

As I finish this entry I'm waiting for FFP to come home. We might go to the Texas Hill Country Wine and Food Festival Fair. There would be lots of free food. And we have press passes. But jockeying for free food with thousands of other people and drinking wine outdoors on a hot day sounds less and less fun now that I think about it. I haven't eaten so far today. I've had my coffee, a bottle of water and a walk around the neighborhood. I'm feeling a little hungry. But not hungry enough to go for the chocolate and cookies left over from the free stuff from yesterday.

My SXSW Movies, Part 1

We are gorging on movies. So far all are documentaries. Seven movies since Friday evening.

We've got our routine down. We know how to pace ourselves, how to navigate the venues and how to enjoy the interludes.

Here's a little roundup of what we've seen with a tiny bit of amateur film criticism.

"Running with Arnold" There is some interesting stuff here. They went to Austria to get some early Arnold insight. They have footage from "Pumping Iron" that is very cool. However, archival Nazi footage puzzled most everyone. And remained puzzling even after the director explained in Q&A that it 'stood for the fascism of corporations.' (He said something like that. His exact words I'm not so sure of.) They wanted to hoist Arnold on the Republican petard. To show that Arnold is a Republican and therefore evil. Hence, footage of Katrina and Jeb Bush. They also wanted to show Arnold's lust for power and success. I think they should have stuck to that message and done less Bush bashing. It's just too easy, folks, and he can't get elected again. They showed some stuff about a constitutional amendment to allow Arnold to run for president. (OK, any naturalized citizen, I suppose.) This will never get passed. Constitutional amendments are quite difficult. And it would spoil my joke when talking to people one-on-one. I say: "Are you, me and Arnold the only ones not running for president?"

"Unforeseen" First let me say that the cinematography on this one is easily the best I've seen in a while in any documentary. Worthy of many big features really. But it is a mess as to message and focus. Ostensibly about Gary Bradley, the developer of Circle C who was pounded by the Save Our Springs folks and went bankrupt. No, wait. It's really about the evil of any development in sensitive areas. No, wait. It's about the decline of the family farm. No, wait, it's about sprawl and building where there is no water. (But, hence, no sensitive recharge zone.) No, wait, it's about cancer. (I'm serious there is a multiple minute segment of a doctor telling us about normal human physiology and cancer. It's meant to be a metaphor for sprawl. I got that. But geez.) No, wait. It's about the evils of skyscrapers. Wait, wait, wait. If we can't have sprawl and we can't have dense then maybe we are meant to: (1) Build a fence around the city. (Ann Richards appears in the film suggesting this, but she was kidding. Also, the SXSW person introducing the film mentioned that she had only been here a couple of years.) and (2) Stop procreating. (But the SXSW person who introduced the director was praising the director for producing this wonderful film and being a mother!) and (3) Live in less space. Robert Redford sitting by the springs and talking about saving them doesn't give us a plan. (How much space do you think he lives in?) The visionaries with the fancy camera work don't really propose a solution.

"Confessions of a Superhero" This one explored the lives of people who make their living posing as characters from movies on Hollywood Blvd. It was sensitive and touching. Looking at the ambitions and obsessions of these people and exploring where they came from was very insightful. I came away knowing some interesting, somewhat margalized people and appreciating how they look at the world.

"Cat Dancers" OK. Weird. What is that disease where you lose all your hair, even your eyebrows? OK, this guy had that, I think, although it's never mentioned directly. And is sort of incidental to the story. OK, real minor point. More importantly, he loved to dance. He fell in love with his childhood dance partner and they became famous dancers. When they were getting too old for ballet, they added cats. Tigers and jaguars and such. Then they added another person to the act. A handsome young man. A lot of what you might imagine would happen did. But still it was startling. The filmmakers seemed to just want us to appreciate the story of these people and the creatures they raised and lived with. They didn't want to lobby for cat rights or dancer's rights. And the movie worked.

"Manufacturing Dissent" Allegedly two Canadian film folks decided to make a straight up bio film of Michael Moore. But he dissed them and it turned into a table turning deal where his fierce-looking security kept escorting them off the premises. I'm not a big fan of Michael Moore's although I have seen all his stuff and wasn't sorry I did. This portrait of him was very unflattering. I'd say he came off looking like someone who manipulated his situation to get rich while appearing to try to make a difference. Oddly enough I was most disappointed that he came from this rich suburb and not Flint.

"Crazy Sexy Cancer" Cancer is such a sweeping word. Every kind is different. Not to mention every person's case. But Kris Carr has a weird type of cancer that has responded to a 'wait and see' attitude (with perhaps a bit of help from some healthy lifestyle changes). In spite of the interesting journey she took with that, the movie would have been flawed in addressing cancer if she hadn't sought out some people with other types of cancer and followed some of their journeys as well. It sounds like a cliche, but Kris takes us along for that ride that ends with the realization that we all die but not everyone lives fully. She and the other women in the movie bubble with the excitement of the projects they've chosen for their lives. Their cancers are just something they deal with in the process. This movie is humorous and uplifting. I could even forgive Kris for being drop dead gorgeous and even managing to get a cancer that did not require losing her hair or blowing up on steroids. Some of the other women she filmed were not so lucky but they all retained a beauty and grace that she captured.

"What Would Jesus Buy?" This world premiere was followed by a Q&A that brought more people to the stage than any other film I've ever seen at one of these things. Led by Morgan Spurlock (one of the producers) and Rob VanAlkemade (the director) the whole cast was up there I think. And that cast included the Reverend Billy Talen and his gospel choir of the Church of Stop Shopping. Perfect movie for me...someone who is in constant conversation with herself about what 'stuff' we really need. The Reverend takes his message rather agressively to WalMarts, Starbucks and even Disneyland. There is wonderful footage of excess. And Christmas excess at that which is the best excess of all. The church itself is somewhat excessive but the message rings true. The night before the festival began I stood around the new Neiman Marcus, eating and drinking and raising money for good causes. I'd like to see the Reverend Billy and his group mix with that crowd! Not that it would have been better than their Komikaze attacks on the Mall of America or Disneyland. Disneyland on Christmas Day. It doesn't get any better than that.

So, yeah, a lot of movies. We are going to try to see ten or twelve more in the next week. Yeah, I know. Crazy talk. Maybe we will even see some narrative features. But I do love documentaries.