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.

It's Best to Have Rich Friends

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


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

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


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


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


"Botero?" I offered.


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


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


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


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

I'm Still Here

I had a little setback over the weekend. It was supposed to be a weekend of catching up on things and enjoying the nice weather. You can read about the upset Saturday brought over on my Journal of Unintended Consequences.

We had a nice weekend nevertheless. Nothing was planned for Saturday. That turned out to be a good thing. Thursday's adventures on South Congress and downtown were fun. (I took the picture after dropping off my tax stuff to the CPA on Thursday in SoCo.) And we had a nice Friday. My dad and I made it to water aerobics (good for Dad) and I managed a pretty good workout after that. I had lunch with Dad and a friend and my friend and I went computer equipment shopping afterwards without buying anything. Always good. Friday night was a really pleasant event with fun people to talk to and good apps and good wine to taste.

And yesterday we were treated to hearing a world class string quartet play in someone's living room followed by a reception where we met some new and interesting people and had some nice apps. That was so old school elegant. It almost made me feel bad coming home to watch mindless television.

Today for the second week in a row I'm going to turn over a new leaf and be more productive. Only problem is that I've already wasted most of the morning and I haven't even gotten a workout.

Mooching and Treating

The new look for the Intel shell is oh so much more interesting, don't you think? In the background is the crane and the rising floors of the condo tower (360) where we hope to live one day. One down, one up. Actually many up you can't see in this picture.

Last night we almost made a perfect score in downtown Austin. We ate and drank freebies at a party at Cissi's Market on South Congress which is about to open. There was wine tasting, free coffee, delicious passed food and some food vendors purveying delicious desserts and olive oil and preserves. We had a party to go to at the sales office for the tower going up in this picture. It was a birthday party for the guy who is the local partner on the project. He was 34 and I said I had wine that old and found one to give him that was a '74. Close enough. So when I say we would continue mooching at his party it's not like we didn't take a nice present. That old Cab might even taste all right. But we had some time between the freebies so we went to Belmont and sat on the patio with some women. We'd met one of them, once. I didn't remember where. FFP did. And they bought us drinks.

After the birthday party we were still a little hungry. They had only sweets at the party and we decided to have a nightcap and some snacks at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse bar. Both the owners came over to chat. They didn't treat us, though, so, sadly, the whole evening wasn't a mooch fest. Out came the credit cards.

Today I was the treater, though, more or less. I have a regular irregular lunch with a friend who is a retired health inspector turned playwright. And it was my turn. We take turns. So I picked up the tab at NuAge Cafe. And in the evening, I had dinner with a friend of mine at 34th Street and she chipped in $20 but we had a glass of wine each, I had two apps, she had an app and an entree and I tipped Karen (our server) generously so I picked up a little more than half. I felt sorry for my friend who was out $3000 on surgery for her standard poodle who had jumped around and twisted her stomach. Second time it happened. First time they claimed they tacked the stomach to the abdominal wall. Guess it came loose. I picked this poodle up at the groomers the other day and I'm glad it didn't happen on my watch. She jumped around like crazy at the groomers and at home although she sat quietly in my car in between. My friend also found out that her rental duplex might be sold out from under her.

Did I have a point with all this? Oh. Yes. Mooching and treating...it's supposed to balance out. I can't honetsly tell you which end of the thing I'm on. Sometimes things are up, sometimes they are down. Kind of like the buildsings.

Downtown Living

Yesterday we made the decision to try to move downtown. In this picture you see a balcony we would like to be standing on in a little over a year surveying downtown Austin. The building at 360 Nueces is called 'The 360' and it's up about eleven stories and our desired location is there on ten. The building's WEB site is here, but I warn you...it's an annoying one.

Getting closer to this decision made me want to go home and throw away 7/8 of my things. There is so much we don't really need. Of course, when I got home I was exhausted from making decisions and worrying about the future and I went out and had bacon and eggs and then goofed off and read the paper, went to the gym and generally avoided working on my taxes.

Spent a pleasant evening looking at friends' remodeled house and then dining at Restaurant Jezebel in downtown Austin. Yummy food accompanied by my new favorite wine...a 2005 Siduri Pinot Noir.

We were downtown within view of our building under construction again today at the crack of dawn. My blog entry on the Intel Shell Implosion is here.

Displacing

I guess the things we procrastinate most about in life are the inevitable ones. Death and taxes. A lot of people delay thinking about wills and estate planning. And every year we do anything to avoid pulling together the 1099's, K1's, stock sales, W2's, etc. and placating the IRS.

I get lots done while displacing. I write e-mails to family, respond to requests for trivia for articles people are writing, do laundry, shred ancient receipts, file things and get my budget and accounting stuff up-to-snuff. I play tennis and then figure there is still time to go to the gym for a workout. I see chores around the house I need to do like dumping faded fresh flowers and cleaning the vases.

I even sort through and edit old shop window pictures like this one.

But there it remains on my 'to do' list: taxes.

Finally, you can't avoid it. But yesterday I managed to continue doing so. We had a couple of early receptions to attend. Finally, it was imperative that I get a shower if we were going to be on time for the first one so we could slip out and go to the second one. And then my friend called to see if I could rescue her poodle from the groomer and take her home. Groomer and home are only minutes away so I did that.

No time for taxes. We were home from the receptions by 8:30. But I sort of have a rule that the night is my time to read and watch TV. And do important things like figuring out why my DVR stopped recording Jeopardy and refused to start again. (A boot solved this, of course.)

Today, I am really, really going to work on the taxes. But first I have to reorganize some bulging files in the office so I can find things. And it's almost lunch time. Wouldn't want to go into this activity hungry.

So Many Things I Should be Doing

I am blogging when I should be shredding stuff, doing my taxes, cleaning out things.

This picture was taken in my back yard. Does that vine coming out of my neighbor's yard give anyone else pause?

Talked to a friend today about how, when you are cleaning things out, everything is even more messy because you pull stuff out of closets and sort it around on the floor and every available flat surface.

Today I needed to work on my taxes. But what I really did was everything else. I even put TxTags on our cars and took the dealer's license plates frames off of them because of this.

Whatever Works

Things are broken, confused, out of whack.

This used to be our blue reflecting ball. It still reflects (that's me in my black sweats reflected), but it's status as a ball was compromised by ice crashing out of trees during the ice storm. We should have thought to bring it in. We did that once when large hail threatened.

One of the toilets in our house had a breakdown I couldn't fix. The good news is that it didn't flood like the accident at my dad's house. But our toilet karma is bad of late. Dad's house (carpets, walls, etc.) is dry now, we hope. Lots of suction, giant fans and dehumidifiers later. The carpet was designed for a wheelchair user and, I think, had no pad. I have an insurance adjustor coming tomorrow to look at the furniture stains, etc. Then I have to get a plumber to look at the toilet that created the deluge. And our toilet.

That's life. It's so exciting.

Meanwhile I was planning a trip. I was putting printouts about reservations in this small notebook with transparent pages. It is a type of notebook that is great for organizing trips. The pages have lots of holes and the rings open and swing out to rearrange or add pages. They are light and easy to use. I also printed online TripTix from AAA for the driving portion of the trip. Some things work. Some things don't. I'm always trying to achieve victory with office supplies and trying different filing systems and filing supplies. A few work. Most don't. Mess ensues that is always needing reorg. We have achieved a system with our household budget that works and migrates all the paper through a process where it can be used to enter budget entries on the computer and then get stored so it can be located and, after a while, shredded. A few other filing ideas I've had over the years work well, too. When I get a birth, graduation or wedding invitation or announcement I stick it in a folder. Sorting through this folder, I can find answers to birthdays, anniversaries and even to questions like "who was x's first wife?" I usually don't look at the stuff again, but it's always there.

Some things in life work. But some days it seems, not much does. Especially toilets.

A Second Journal

I decided to set up a special blog to explore what I call Unintended Consequences. You might expect it to be all about, say, the war in Iraq. And we might get around to that. But really my "Journal of Unintended Consequences" will encompass many issues.

Really it's just my answer to all those people to whom there is a straight line between intention and action and outcome. And all sorts of tidbits will appear to support my belief that everything does happen for a reason...but very rarely a reason that can be clearly traced and predicted.

And it will be a fun spot to complain about life's little practical jokes. And I even get around to Bush in the first entry. Although not like you might expect.

The Visible Woman will continue as well, rattling on about anything and everything and taking pictures of shop windows and junk shop offerings.

Black Tie Charity

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

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

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

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

It's Always Something

People say "it's always something." My dad has a better saying. "There's always something to take the joy out of life."

I haven't taken a new picture lately. I'm lazy and, well, there have been those joy-sucking things.

This picture is from 2004. Austin has a art studio tour of the East Side. When we went in 2004 we visited the workshop of the guy who did our first found object musician sculpture in our backyard. (Barry George.) Inside and outside there were bits and pieces, he'd collected for his work. This pile of bits including a rusted out typewriter caught my eye.

Since last we spoke, I chased my Uncle's appetites. His surgery was canceled. He was admitted to the hospital to have an echo to look at what they suspected was a clot and was. This was disappointing because it made his surgery too dangerous. But the procedure would have been (to paraphrase the doctor) amazingly suitable to his heart problems. He had to return to his Dallas area home and try to work on a regimen to dissolve the clot. Before the gang left, though, they had to be fed. And restaurants were full of people going out before Valentine's Day. So I had to take my uncle of the appetites to the grocery store where deli fried chicken, ribs, fruit salad and ice cream were seleccted. The next day the relatives left. But within an hour or two there was a toilet flood at my dad's that soaked carpets and I got a call that my uncle left his hearing aids and they needed to be overnighted to him. I found them since I was standing there watching a water removal guy I hired suck water out of the carpet. I put them in a plastic Easter egg that was, for some reason, in my Dad's dining room with some napkin to cushion them and took them to my favorite mailing place, Beyond the Mailbox, to be overnighted.

I am thrilled for my uncle that he may get the clot dissolved, get back down here and get a procedure that will help his heart keep up with his appetite. But I'm not looking forward, honestly, to the time when they come back. I'm so selfish about my time. But as Dad says, there is always something to take the joy out of life, and it would be nice to have my uncle be able to exert himself without getting so breathless. I hope it works out. My aunt and uncle are very independent but they are getting older. And I worry about them. They maintain a home in Maine and an apartment in the Dallas area. It seems like more than they should do. And they don't have kids so it will be up to nieces and nephews to help. Which brings us to the situation FFP and I find ourselves in. We are childless. So we have to put ourselves in a situation where we can take care of ourselves or pay someone to do it. Our current dream is to spend our old age in a downtown condo where we can walk to stuff (you know if we can walk) and we don't have a yard and a roof to maintain and we have a concierge to bribe to do things. Meanwhile, though, we have these parental units in houses living independently (after a fashion). And other older relatives. I guess the good news is this: I don't have kids! If I did they would theoretically be grown and independent and helping me out. But with my luck they'd be the type who were moving home to 'find themselves' after consuming an expensive education.

Maybe I'm a cynic. I know I'm lucky. I'm retired. I have time for these things. But it is always. Something.

Things Change

On February 25, I understand, they will implode the Intel Shell. So Austin won't be hanging signs on it, dancing and rappelling off of it and making fun of it. They will build a Federal courthouse there. Not another high rise condo like the mayor thought of at the eleventh house.

Yeah, things change.

I spent some time taking my elderly uncle to have some sort of CT scan of his heart today. His appetites will outlive that heart. Later he wanted raw oysters, beer, a crab cake and Krispy Kreme donuts. Tomorrow he goes to the hospital for some kind of heart procedure.

People get old. Things change. Unfinished shells that represent the dot com bust get blown up.

By the way, at the Krispy Kreme they had posters saying the donuts only had 200 calories. And, to placate me about the 30 second or so wait for a box of the things, a guy shoved a donut my way. I was shocked. And kind of full from a beer, oysters and an iceberg salad as big as my head. So I waved it off.

Black Tie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Changing Plans

Picture? 2004. Congress Avenue. Shop Window. I had time for trivial stuff then...wandering and taking pictures. It was March. Note short sleeves. It will be warm here soon.

Plans for this weekend have been changing and evolving for weeks. First I realized that it was a friend's birthday tomorrow. We had tickets to see "Present Laughter" at the Zach Scott theater on Friday (yesterday). I'd already purchased some tickets for Frontera Fest 'best of the week' on Saturday, hoping a friend's play would make it in since his was showing on Wednesday when I had a board meeting. Another friend was singing at Reed's Jazz and Supper Club on Saturday evening. My friend's actual birthday was Sunday. So...it all seemed pretty complicated but I offered to said birthday girl any and all the weekend's events since I had extra tickets and offered that we could just dine some place nice on Sunday. We could go to Zach, go to Frontera, catch a later set at Reed's, go out on Sunday.

Things got more complicated when my aunt and uncle decided to come down. They never seem to be able to make the trip to Austin (from their winter home in the Dallas vicinity) but this time my uncle has a doctor's appointment Monday and possible visit to the hospital here on Tuesday for a procedure so they have to come and are coming early to visit with my dad and I. Apparently there is some special kind of heart doctor here.

The weekend is still evolving. We three (FFP, the birthday girl and I) went to Zach last night. We snacked at the Schlotzsky's nearby beforehand. Enjoyed the Noel Coward with Cole Porter entertainments intreact. We found out that my friend's play didn't make the show tonight and we three have decided to forgo Frontera Fest and I will entertain the relatives a bit and then we will maybe hear jazz singing later. The birthday girl's throat hurts a bit but she hopes to rebound.

My head is spinning. I'm not keen on confusion and I don't like being responsible for other people's amusement. It is complicated when they are old, ailing or both. But it should be an interesting weekend. There is never a lack of things to do in Austin, that's for sure. And I better get a workout because Monday and Tuesday I'll be driving folks to medical facilities. Not my favorite thing.

New York Treasure

FFP got off this shot in New York in 2005. I wasn't with him. I was in South Africa.

Late September perhaps. Still warm. Everyone needs to catch a little air.

When I have a moment I've been sorting the pictures. The idea would be to winnow down to the ones that really deserve space on the hard drive. We won't even talk about all the actual photos that need sorting with some getting tossed, some getting scanned. I probably have four or five cubic feet of actual physical photos around here. When I'm worried about downsizing, I think of cubic feet of whatever. Photos sure take up less space on hard drives. But a lot of them still creates a confusion that can be not unlike the shoebox with loose photos.

At one point I thought I might collect old photos. I stumbled on some in a bin at a junk shop and thought that I thought were so cool. This collection didn't get off the ground. And I don't know where those few I bought actually are. Somewhere in my office, I guess. If I find them, I'll scan them and show you. Meanwhile, enjoy this photo of New York.

Hearbeat 1.1

I'm still here. Feeling overwhelmed a little by my schedule and making some financial decisions.

The good news is that I'm very lucky. I have a little money to worry about. I have these social obligations because I have friends and charities and family. Life is good.

And...I'm not in a bread line. About three years ago we went to Washington, D.C. to see Ballet Austin at the Kennedy Center. We went to the FDR memorial where, I think, this installation was meant to immortalize bread lines. FFP queued up for the photo. When snow hit D.C. the other day I saw a picture somewhere of this sculpture in the snow. No FFP in that one, though.

Heartbeat

This detail (from a junk sculpture of a sousaphone player in our backyard) seems to reveal an absence of a heart. Too bad the artist didn't think to add one.

I haven't blogged since Sunday. When my favorite bloggers don't blog daily, it irritates me. It isn't that I expect them to give their all and write a nice, well-crafted essay every day. It's just that once I've mentally invaded their lives on a circadian cycle I want to know that they are there. It's the difference between what I expect of my aunts (occasional calls and letters with updates) and my dad (speak with him every day). It's like the people who post (almost) every day are completing a welfare call with the world. After all, that's why I speak with my dad every day. If he weren't alone or had someone else I wouldn't do that. But most of these bloggers have someone else to be sure they wake up in the morning and haven't fallen (and can't get up).

One of the bloggers I like is John Bailey. He can be properly called a blogger since he's switched to a blogging site. For a few days he hasn't had the spirit for the well-crafted essay of the day and pictures. So he's simply posted what he calls 'bloglets.' He's just checking in. Just giving us a heart beat on the day.

So, yes, this is my heartbeat for my readers (about a thousand less than Mr. Bailey has). I'll be back and all the more clever. (Right.)

Things I Love, But am Not Good At

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

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

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

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

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

Fashion

Seems I forgot to mention that yesterday I went to a fashion show.

I offer this picture with its faded emulsions to illustrate my interest in fashion. That's me, the smallest one, in the plaid shirt and jeans. Notice that my mother and sister are in fashionable blouses from the early fifties.

I enjoyed the fashion show yesterday. I took a little more care than usual dressing. I wore a custom-made pants suit with a faint stripe made from super-100s tropical worsted wool and a cream on cream custom blouse. I wore chocolate and black Bally spectator shoes and a vintage alligator belt. The custom clothes were at least eight years old and the shoes had been refurbed many times. I'm not sure where the belt came from. It's possible FFP outgrew it and we let my mom wear it and I recovered it when I disposed of her clothing. Anyway, that is about as much fashion sense as I could muster. FFP wore a new sport coat, an expensive tie that he bought at a thrift store, pants that he bought at the outlet mall and some carefully-selected Italian shoes. He put a lot of thought into dressing. I just wore the cleanest, least ragged and most fashionable at some point daytime clothes I could muster.

The fashion show was put on by Neiman Marcus. They open their first Austin store in March. The show was on the 30th floor of the Frost Bank building in some unfinished space that had been transformed with fake walls, a rear projection screen, a carpet runway and a bunch of chairs painted silver with leopard seat pads. A lot of Austin's most fashionable were there and looking fashionable indeed. There weren't too many men but, of course, FFP didn't care. There were delightful bits of food being served by caterers. The show was fun with emphasis on trends that the NM fashion director sees for Spring. Flat shoes for women, cropped jackets, sequins in day wear. Flat shoes? I can do that! For men, he predicted an emphasis on driving shoes among other things which pleased FFP who recently scored a new and lovely pair. The show had a lot of interesting clothes. Not that you will see me in any of them. But I really enjoy fashion shows. There was even a wardrobe malfunction. I didn't see anything untoward but the model's startled look and her hand pulling up the strapless gown. Still, good drama.

I don't understand why the least fashionable among us enjoys a fashion show, but I do. Similarly when we are at fancy events I enjoy other peoples' clothes even as I have dressed just well enough not to embarrass myself.

Connected

Sunday night we went to a script reading. It was a pleasant Austin group gathered to listen to the script for Anne Rapp's "Double Wide." A group of actors did a great job of rendering it. On stage were the likes of Johnny Hardwick (one of his characers, the sheriff, sounded suspiciously like Dale Griblle) and Ray Benson. In the audience were folks like Bill Witliff and Bud Shrake and Janet Pierson. During the reception before the event FFP pointed out an attractive blonde, apparently alone. When he'd been in the drink line, he said, she was friendly so we went over to talk. She was an actress. Who had moved to Austin. She'd gotten a little work, too. But, of course, she waits tables. As actresses do.

The reading was fun. FFP introduced the actress to some of the movers and shakers.

This afternoon we called the restaurant where the actress works. I would link to her actress page but I don't know if actresses like to be associated with their restaurant jobs. Anyway, the restaurant is Bess. Bistro Bess. It's in the historic Stratford Arms building which was once a hotel. This restaurant has been associated with Sandra Bullock. This is not something that interests me. I'm a celebrity agnostic. No. We were going to dine at Bess because (1) the actress worked there (the unknown one we just met); and (2) it's a bistro and we don't have that many in Austin (mussels, pommes frites). However, they don't take reservations. For the record, I prefer places that take reservations.

We enjoyed the food well enough (although I'd give it fewer stars than Capitol Brasserie), we enjoyed talkng to the waitress, it turns out we knew the hostess and we were amused to see that Dale Rice had slipped into the restaurant undetected. (He's the food critic of the local paper, The Austin American-Statesman.) We didn't see any celebrities. Which is fine. Best even.

By the way, today we have an old picture of Chalow. Because Bess doesn't allow photos. Because of the paparazzi I guess. And old Chalow...she looks better than any pommes frite!

Tastes Change

Last night I had dinner at the ultra trendy (for Austin) Uchi. People were stacked everywhere. Somehow our friends had secured a table.

I ate things like miso soup, edamame and a giant display of sashimi and accompaniments. I drank some fancy pants Sake.

I didn't take any pictures. But this one popped up in my chase through old photos this morning. Dart Bowl enchiladas. I think you could probably get these today if you went over there. I haven't tried in a while. In fact, the photo was taken before I bought my last desktop which was, I think, in 2003.

Can a photo give you heartburn? How do you feel after having about a pound of raw fish? These are today's questions.

Lots of Pink

First, I'm still sorting old photos in spare moments.

A little perspective on this one. The last job of my working life was at a company where I worked for over thirteen years. The last office I occupied was in a building that was newly built to be rented to our company's location in Austin. I chose a large but windowless office. I think we chose in seniority order and I had a lot of that.

The large size accommodated a lot of frivolity and collections and the blank walls made good places to park posters and prints that we didn't have room for at home any longer. A collection of flamingo stuff went on display. I have little of this stuff now. I saved a few things but mostly I gave it away. The neon light to a woman who worked there whose granddaugther wanted it to decorate her bedroom. A box full of the geegaws to the thrift store. When I left work I had to move home a ton of stuff and in an uncharacteristic fit of downsizing I did get rid of some of it.

While I worked there, however, I think people enjoyed the busy collection of pink flamingo stuff as well as various toys and globes and other things that decorated the place from time to time. I know it made me smile. Primarily I have photos to remember that. And that's good enough. And yeah it seems silly. Now that I'm all grown up and retired.

Letting Go

There are times when you have to let go of stuff. You even have to let go of your dreams of stuff.

Right now, in my closet, there is a pile of clothing that has to be thrown away. It's tough, but I've got to do it. Two cashmere sweaters with holes worn in the left elbow. A fine cotton custom-made shirt with the right cuff and collar frayed beyond that 'one more wearing.' It was a not quite but almost black material, a black basket weave pattern and oh so perfect for LB, traveling light, of the last few entries. Once expensive clothing but now worn and must go to the trash, not even the thrift store. I suppose the truly thrifty could add elbow patches to the sweaters, salvage the buttons or remake the shirt or make little cashmere sweaters for Barbie and Ken. I am not that person. I must throw them away. It's a little harder than the average ragged pair of underwear, though. Speaking of which, I have been known to take my ragged underthings out on a trip for 'one more wearing' and then toss them for the homeward trip, using the space in the suitcase for souvenirs.

The picture was stolen from ebay long ago. It's a detail from one of the best stamped tin toys ever, in my opinion, a cool Ferris Wheel. I once thought of being a toy collector. I didn't become one but I did collect a few things and a pile of books. I've let go of the books. Mentally anyway. They are stored at my dad's house to be taken to Colorado and donated to a toy and miniature musuem my sister is associated with.

But back to those cashmere sweaters. One was a present from FFP long ago and was an expensive one. The other I bought a long time ago, too. In a secondhand shop. For fifteen dollars. I'm sure I paid a hundred dollars for the custom shirt. But I've probably worn it a hundred times. I probably spent more than the hundred dollars on laundering it. Now I will often wear a shirt (blouse if you will...in this case the tailoring was shirt-like but the buttons went the opposite way of the menswear I sometimes co-op it being custom made and all) multiple times. Especially on trips. This shirt probably had been to Europe, maybe Africa and maybe Australia. It was well-traveled.

I'll miss these things when I let them go. They are hard to replace exactly. Custom clothing seems too extravagant for someone who is retired and spend a lot of time in sweats. And I loved that one sweater because it was such a bargain.

But you have to do it. You have to let go.

Still Recycling Here

It's sort of interesting recycling stuff. Especially pictures on the computer.

This one was taken in New York in January 2002. These signs are at that weird angle, I believe, because when the World Trade Center fell the blast blew them around the pole. The careful observer will notice the decoration on the street signs.

Well there you go. I'd forgotten all about this picture. We (I went with a couple of girlfriends) were like all those tourists who went down to the area. Seeing things where there was nothing to see.

It was freezing cold that day and I had a cold. We finally found a place to get a cup of coffee and a snack a block or so away. How those guys were holding on in that little hole-in-the-wall joint across the street from places with a fine dust all over everything you could see in the windows I'll never know.

Well no drama today. A meeting discussing gates, playscapes, pool deck finishes and sidewalks. A small workout. (Exercise rule here: if you do something it's better than nothing.) Dad doing well. Picked up his own shirts at the laundry. I installed a 160 Gig Maxtor external USB drive on FFP's computer. And it worked perfectly and immediately. I only paid $69 bucks for it at Fry's, too. I remember when I got a computer that had two disk drives, each with a 1/2 gig. A gigabyte! On your desk. I thought that was ultimate computing. But I digress. As always. Ground zero should bring on thoughts of off-site backup. Yeah, I do some of that.

Eye on Myself

Last few posts have been a little self-indulgent, don't you think? With our heroine appearing without the scrim of shop window contents and reflections.

Well, here's more.

Have you ever seen the London Eye?

Well, in 2002 I had a business trip to England. I had to meet with customers in London and environs, give a speech at some conference there and take a day trip to Glascow to give a pitch. A fly in and fly out speech was my nightmare. No matter how I balanced the decongestants I arrived deaf. Add in the accents and I would have trouble understanding my customers' questions. Of course, they had to overcome my Texas accent to understand my answers! Anyway the fun started at something like 7AM, London time, on a Monday.

My mother was in the hospital, very ill. This trip to London was the only time during her almost hundred days in the hospital that I left. I'd agreed to the conference speech and I was only going to be gone a few days. I finally decided not to cancel. I told my assistant, though, to get me in on Saturday. I couldn't imagine arriving jet-lagged on Sunday, risking delay and then having to be conherent at 7 on Monday. I arrived in London about 11 in the morning on Saturday. I checked into the hotel and went to sleep. I kept intending to get up and find food and drink that wasn't in the mini bar. I kept sleeping and sleeping. I think I could have slept all day Sunday. But I didn't. I had to get in the time zone. About nine the following morning, twenty-two hours after I'd crashed in the room, I decided I had to stop sleeping. I guess I didn't know how weary I'd gotten working, going to the hospital. Anyway I got up, showered, put on my black jeans, hiking boots, black blazer (at least the shirt wasn't black!) and had some breakfast. I bought an Underground pass and went to London proper. (I was staying at the airport.)

One thing I did was ride the London Eye. Somehow I figured out that at a certain point they took a photo. (A camera was mounted on arms of the giant ferris wheel.) So I moved over to the right part of the car at the right moment. No one else seemed to be aware of this or maybe they thought it was silly. When I got off, I went to the kiosk and bought this photo.

Hand on backpack slung over one arm, that's my travel self. And no, I don't keep really valuable stuff in the backpack. Just stuff like bandaids and mints and reading material. Maybe a camera.

I look pretty relaxed here with my twenty hours of sleep, doing some touristy things to get moving and get in the right time zone frame of mind. I was feeling really strange and out-of-it though. I got this picture to show my mother. I hated leaving her and she had told me to bring some souvenirs for her. I did that, too. She enjoyed seeing the photo and the stuff I brought her. We then took her souvenirs home and she never saw them again. The other day at my dad's house I saw a dish towel that had garish graphics celebrating the Queen's Golden Jubilee. Must have been one of the things I brought her.

About Nothing

I decided to post something and I have no idea what it's going to be about. The picture was taken by one of my friends in 1999 on the Normandy beach. Near a memorial probably. We might have been awaiting an exercise of landing craft to commemorate the 55th anniversary of D-Day. In fact, the dots on the horizon are LSTs or something. So that's it.

It's cold and windy and I have on my trusty anorak (purchased in 1997 it has lost a bit of waterproofing and has been replaced but I still wear it sometimes). I'm carrying my backpack with whatever emergency supplies and provisions I deemed needed. I have a 'fresh for the trip' haircut as this is the beginning of the trip. Same trip mentioned in the previous entry where I showed an arrival picture. The anorak and backpack are key in my travel scenarios...just like the black blazer, the hiking boots, the black jeans.

I'm pensive I guess. (Both at the moment and over seven years ago in the picture.) Thinking about the sacrifices of our fathers' generation. My dad wasn't in Normandy on June 4, 1944 but my friend's dad was. And storming beaches wasn't the only type of sacrifice that generation made.

This morning I need to go shopping for my dad. And empty his dishwasher. The bending over doesn't play well at the moment. However, he drove himself to Sunday School and church yesterday. And to some friends' house for football watching and a meal. And he said he did his own laundry and hung everything up. "I'm getting better," he declared.

Traveling Light (Darkly)

I was fumbling through old pictures and found this one. It isn't too clear for two reasons: it was bigger (I cropped out my friend who was pointing at me and waving her camera) and it was probably scanned and manipulated poorly by me. In 1999

So almost eight years ago. It's June 1999.

I'm going on a trip with my friends that includes Normandy (the fifty-five anniversary of D-Day) and Paris and Berlin. A couple of my friends have been somewhere else (Switzerland, I think, or looking for chocolate factories in obscure parts of France). They are driving to Normandy and have kindly agreed to pick me up at Orly. Our great plan was that I would meet them at an airport hotel. Naturally my flight in was dead on time or early, I zoomed through customs and immigration and I was there hours before them. I got the shuttle to this hotel where I was not actually staying. I sat in the lobby and ordered strong espresso from one of those typical French waiters. I had to drag all my luggage with me (well, what you see is all of it) to use their public restrooms since I was alone. I waited and waited. I pondered the alternate plan. (That I would take a train to Paris and Bayeux and find them.) After what seemed like days (I'd been traveling a day by then) but was only a couple of hours, one of my friends stormed into the lobby with a big 35MM camera and started snapping pictures of me. Some people were staring like I was some celebrity they couldn't place. I was staring hard ahead at that point trying not to doze and look like a vagrant sleeping in this lobby. In the parking lot my other friend snapped a picture and later gave it to me. In the uncropped version, my friend is in a white T-Shirt and jeans and tennis shoes, waving that big camera.

Fuzzy or not, I like this picture because it shows me in traveling mode with everything I took on the trip either on my back or in my hands. Black jeans, gray waterproof hiking boots, a dark shirt, a black blazer. A small rolling suitcase and a day pack (which zipped onto the suitcase in a pinch allowing one to bust out straps on the bigger bag and put the whole mess on one's back). In the old days, I could have carried all this luggage on the plane. My trusty Swiss Army Knife would have been in the backpack in any case. It has a less than four-inch blade and was entirely acceptable for flying then.

Yep. I had everything I needed. Some dress shoes and dress pants. More servicable shirts. An anorak. A small camera. A few maps and books. The knife. Clean socks and underwear. A spare pair of eyeglasses and my prescription. Toothbrush and toiletries. I'm not sure how long I was on that trip. I'm thinking about ten days. I found a couple of notes about it in my online archive but nothing complete.

Notice though that I was traveling pretty light. One secret to that, obviously, is dark clothing that you can wear multiple times. My friends have so tired of my several black blazers. I still own the one in this picture. I occasionally actually wear it. I so need some new clothes. In dark colors.

What I Learned From Tennis

Google Earth provides a view of the club I belong to (and the water treatment plant next door). In any case, you can see tennis courts. I've got to admit that whenever I see courts with their neat lines marking ins and outs I want to be out there batting the yellow balls around.

As I type this I'm watching James Blake play tennis. It is raining and in the 40's outside. (Which seems like nice weather after the big freeze.)

Tennis is the only sport I've ever really pursued with much spirit. As a small kid I played a little softball. I used to throw around baseballs and footballs. As a twenty and thirty something I played a little softball again. (I was terrible.) I got a little exercise pretending I could play racquetball for a while. Tennis, though. I got into it after college and have dabbled ever since. I'm not great but I can put the ball in play and keep up with duffers.

I've learned a lot from tennis.

I've learned why people like to play and watch sports. Everything is reduced to a few easily understandable rules. (Tie breakers excepted.) It's not like life where you can't get a clear enough view of things to sort everything out. On any given day with a sport you have winners and losers. It might be 7-6 (7-5), 7-6 (7-5) but it's a victory.

I've learned that some things are not in your control. The call belongs to the person whose side of the court the ball is on in a casual tennis game. You may control where you hit it, but there is also a certain psychology of fair play.

I've learned that you might not win the game, set or match. You might be confident you won't. But you might win a point. You might win the next one in fact. And the less likely your victory in the bigger segment of the event (game! set! match! championship!) the more it will irritate your opponent if you do get a point. The next point. So I concentrate on that next point. Which is not a bad way to go through your life.

And finally tennis taught me that I don't control the weather. When I ran a low-level USTA team years ago my mates always thought I could somehow divine whether we'd have a rainout. Well, no. The weather does what it wants. There you go.

Consumer Loyalty

Today's picture is from 2003. It is a photo of 'house fluff.' That combo of small plastic things, ticket stubs, odd coins, useless keys and little parts of the natural (shell?) and unnatural (fuse?) worlds. A lot of our possessions are this mostly useless fluff, I sometimes think. What do you do with this stuff? That's one of the dilemmas of downsizing.

But today's title is 'consumer loyalty?' I cranked up Blogger today to do a piece on my woes with computer stuff and loyalty to companies that make it. I'm still cleaning out pictures and I just decided to add this one. But a lot of house fluff is made up of old gadgets and plastic parts from them.

When I fired up Blogger to talk about consumer loyalty? That's when my loyalty to Blogger was tested! I uploaded the picture and then hit upload picture again to check to date on the picture. I got several errors from Blogger when I tried that and then I tried to 'save as draft' and got an error. So...I started the post over. When I did that and tried to upload the picture again...it locked up my computer. Permanently apparently. I waited while I made a big commuter cup of coffee on my Capresso Jura Impressa E8. In spite of weird problems over the years with my CA2000 from them and the fact that this one has a weird quirk or two and the cleaning supplies and filters are expensive, I love this machine. And I'm loyal to this company. This new one communicates, too. "Change Filter" it says. Or "Press Rinse." Or "Empty Grounds." Or "Drawer Missing." Or "Add Coffee." Or "Add Water." Or "Clean Machine." It speaks to me. (OK, it's an LED.) In English. (In spite of being a Swiss product, no German or French or Italian.) Anyway, back from the coffee machine and my Sony computer was still locked up. (Their TVs used to be great, didn't they? I have one in the kitchen that we bought twenty-nine years ago. Seriously. It has never even been repaired.)

But I digress. After cycling power on my Sony, Blogger was behaving. Which it mostly does. It is a good way to be online, I think. I'm loyal to Blogger (now Google). And the price is right. Free.

I really popped open to post to talk about my three new pieces of computer gear...and some older computer things that have been giving me pleasure...or making me upset.

I bought a new laptop. My old one was a refurbished Dell I bought at Mr. Notebook three-and-a-half years ago. It had developed a habit of refusing to switch on. When it did everything was fine except for a one or two pixel drop out in the video and the fact that I used a card for wireless that didn't seem to stay seated well in the PCMCIA slot. I really only need a laptop for (1) backup when my Sony desktop is misbehaving; or (2) trips. Although I'd always thought it would be nice to use it wirelessly in the bedroom. But that never worked well with an old wireless access point (and that flakey wireless card) I tried at one time. So I ordered a new HP laptop, custom-configured through costco.com.

I bought a new router with a wireless antenna. I bought this some weeks ago. At Costco so it was shielded in impenetrable plastic. I hate that by the way. But I digress. The reason I bought the new router was that the Linksys router I was using kept giving me trouble. When I couldn't get it to work, I dug around in my drawer and found an old router with only one LAN port. I found a hub, too, and used the two to hook up to my Sony and another hub for the rest of the house. It worked a while and I didn't mess with it. But I thought "maybe I should buy another router, with wireless built in and maybe I could go that route again." So I bought one that was packaged with a USB antenna. Which I thought I could use on the laptop. I never installed this stuff. Then, of course, the laptop failed. The one I bought has a wireless antenna built-in, of course. This new router is Netgear. I'd been pretty loyal to Linksys, but what the heck. My current kludge with the ancient Linksys gear started failing Wednesday although it worked after a boot to the head.

I bought a Western Digital 160MG Passport Drive. This was after getting these first two pieces of equipment working very well. I didn't do it myself. No. Wednesday, the last day of our confinement to avoid ice, FedEx delivered the computer. (We didn't get any actual mail that day. Post Office Loyalty? Right?) Anyway, my computer guru came over, braving ice and snow (not really, streets clear between our locations) and he got the laptop going and he hooked up the router and made it work with everyone wired and the laptop wireless. (The old laptop, by the way, decided to briefly switch on due to the competition from the new, shiny HP.) Where was I? Oh, yes, everything working and, in fact, FFP claiming his Internet access was faster in spite of two hubs between him and the router (well, it was three before so maybe).

And then I bought the Passport Drive. The limited installation instructions (though in many languages) said plug it in and it will install itself. It seemed to do this. It downloaded some new software and some software asked me to set up how I wanted to use a Sync program. I really kind of wanted to just use it as a USB drive. I've had a 120MG, AC-powered, USB drive I've used happily for a long time. (SimpleTech is the brand). Then I ejected the Passport and brought it up again. Nothing seemed to work. The instructions said to launch an .exe. There were actually two on the drive (one it just downloaded). Both failed to launch. You couldn't copy things to it. It said it couldn't find the sector. I tried it on the Sony. Same weird behavior. And on both machines, when I tried to 'safely eject it' it refused for a long time. Now, these portable drives and external drives are something you need to trust. I think I'm returning this. After looking at Western Digital's WEB site I think I may reconsider buying their MyBook product. Costco has this, too. And there are complaints about it losing data. Well, I think I'm returning this one.

Two out of three in getting new computer stuff to work? That's not bad. Too bad I didn't have the Passport here when the computer guru was here. At least he would have commiserated with me. Which is one reason I hire him.

We all so want to buy (or use for free!) products we love and trust. My feelings for Sony are mixed...this computer hasn't been the best I've had, but a TV that lasts almost three decades? Geez. My feelings for Western Digital are at a low at the moment. I'm appreciating that SimpleTech drive that works so well. HP? Well, I've recently purchased a small laser printer, an all-in-one inkjet and this laptop. Pretty happy with those, so far. Linksys? Netgear? Jury's out but both kind of work. Netgear WEB interface sucked, though, my guru and I agreed.

Dell? Well, that old refurbed notebook worked for a while. And it never burned up or anything. We have two Dell computers running in the house at the moment. One has never really failed and survived a memory upgrade and upgrade to XP. It's old and slow but it was purchased in 2000, I think, so there you go. The other one is of 2001 vintage. The hard drive failed. The guru put in a new, giant one and we recovered all the data from backups and reinstalled everything and that was a pain. And the monitor we bought with it failed. FFP is happily using this machine, though, with a 19inch flat panel. Don't know the manufacturer but it works fine. Truthfully, I won't be buying Dell anymore. My bookkeeper who died last year bought a laptop and had to eventually buy another laptop from a local store because it never worked. You can't just return their crap apparently. She changed the logo on the machine she used here with a post-it...changing the 'D' to 'H'. She owed money on the laptop that never worked when she died. I understand they forgave the debt. Nice of them? Well it was a couple of hundred dollars. In itself too much to pay for nothing. And she'd paid a bunch on it, I guess. I was moved to buy the HP online from Costco because they said they would take it back at the store. And the interface to customize was easy to use. I've not been happy with Dell in this regard. No, I won't be buying from Dell. But you should. Because they are a big part of the local Austin economy and I have some stock.

Why, you might ask (if you are the type of reader still around after a boring recitation of comptuer joys and woes), would I buy a computer now when XP comes installed instead of the new Vista? Well, friends I don't want Vista. Not for at least six months. Maybe a lot longer. Not that I love XP. But I know enough not to love something new from Microsoft. Although for all you Mac users who claim nothing ever goes wrong...I read blogs from people who have Mac failures. So, yeah, nothing's perfect. My new HP has 'Windows Vista Capable' sticker. And some kind of limited offer for an upgrade. But, no, I won't do it. I hope to use XP on it until it dies. Unless it lives a very long time.

Now, of course, from the downsizing point of view, there is the question of what to do with the old laptop that boots sometimes.

Running Out of Excuses

Today I had a noon meeting. At my club. Which is closed. So I had to cancel that. I had a social occasion tonight. But it's been moved to tomorrow night.

To avoid cleaning my office or cleaning up anything else (the maid didn't make her usual visit yesterday due to weather no doubt) I have sorted through all my finances online. I have a few other things I could do on the computer to displace but I guess I'll just have to clean up 'stuff.'

I'm crawling back through old pictures as part of cleaning up. No doubt this is a thrift store offering of an old typewriter. I once thought I might collect typewriters. Yikes!

When I travel (lightly) I always take a plastic folder to hold itineraries, confirmations, maps. For a complex trip especially involving driving I may have a notebook with transparent inserts to organize some of this. As I'm cleaning out today I see that some of this stuff lands in other places when I reuse the plastic folders and notebooks. And my question is...is this a good idea? Shoud I have folders for the likes of Denver and San Francisco and boxes for Paris and France and New York and store guide books, printouts, clippings in these? Seems like a good idea. If I can then keep up with these folders and boxes. And if I occasionally sort through them and eliminate some stuff.

Sort of in the middle of all that I discovered a problem with my Internet connection. I talked to my guru on the phone, got it working myself by giving the right equipment a boot to the head and then FedEX delivered my new laptop so I had my guru come over and help me install it and and install a new router with a wireless connection. And I guess I'll ponder getting things sorted another day.

Unprepared

The mayor and TxDot and the city workers said we were 'prepared for the worst.' If fact, not even.

I can't believe it. The mail didn't get delivered yesterday. "Neither rain nor snow nor dark of night?" The papers did get delivered yesterday (except no Wall Street Journal) but today no papers.

It is teetering on thaw. Right at 31 degrees according to the TV. The street in front of my house looks fine. The ecocrete in the driveway in the picture lets air as well as water through to the lower level I guess and looks frozen. The icicles are icicle lights living up to their name. But just a few more degrees. And it will all be forgotten with only a few damaged plants and tree limbs and some runoff.

Apparently we 'ran out' of sanding material so they closed some flyovers and such. And the airport was supposed to "get some de-icer from Houston" but it didn't arrive. Lots of cancelled flights.

We officially can't deal. I've finished all the newspapers we actually received, finished my book. I even started shredding stuff and cleaning my office. OK, I didn't get too far with that. But it's something. I've been going through old clippings that are five or more years old and shredding receipts from the same era. Maybe it will thaw this afternoon. But until then...time to really get busy with the organizing and downsizing and such. Or maybe just get another cup of coffee and read?

I can't wait for the club to open and let me get to the gym. I've even resorted to doing sit-ups and stretches around the house. I'd take a walk but, oh well.

Fortunately the power has stayed on at our house and, more importantly, those of the parental units. And no one has run out of food.

Wonder what would happen if we had some really bad weather for a really long time? OK...warm up already. I'm doing something useful in the interim. Really. Because who needs grocery receipts from 2002?

We Interrupt This Program

Thought I'd give you an old shop window picture with some gray clouds and a familiar head.

The very hint of winter weather sends Austin into a tizzy with the local weather prognosticators leading the way with a combination of seriousness and barely concealed glee.

So, mind you, it looks perfectly safe outside now at my house. The temperature is above freezing. It isn't cold enough to freeze the rain here. But as you drift out of the area, it might be a bit dangerous and they found ice to show on TV. And the police decided to close a flyover near here for some reason.

I know perfectly well how dangerous it can be to drive on pure ice. I tried to get home from work a bit early in 2001 when some freezing precip was predicted. Suddenly I saw the rain freezing on the road in front of me. I steered toward an exit from the elevated road but traffic was backed up. I steered (well, OK, slipped) into the concrete barrier, one of those where the bottom is fatter and you can lay your tire on them without bashing the car and get a grip. Unfortunately someone came along behind me going way too fast and crashed into my rear end hard enough to 'crumple' the car behind the passenger cage. So I've seen the dangers that ice can bring to us here.

I have no reason to get out of the house either. A dinner party we were supposed to have tonight (in a perilous hilly area west of here) was cancelled by the organizers yesterday so they could avoid starting to prepare expensive food that might go to waste. My country club closed so the staff didn't have to make their way to and fro. It was a holiday already for schools, Feds, etc.

Still I'm shaking my head and feeling a little cabin fever. So we'll be staying here, staying warm and, oh yeah, maybe doing something useful. But right now I think I'll get a cup of coffee and work the Monday New York Times crossword.

All you readers in areas with actual winter can stop laughing now.

Traveling Light

I'm fond of shop window photos like this one because they are complex. There is stuff on display, stuff reflected and, in this case, the chaos of a plant on the outside. Interesting things are complex.

That's why it's hard to travel lightly through the world. One can't simply eliminate complexity. That would be dull. Like having all wine taste like grape juice and all food like Cheetos. Rather, one must pick and choose the best and be willing to discard, recycle, reconsider.

I bring this up for a couple of reasons. One, I've thought of writing a non-fiction book called "Traveling Light: Reducing the Weight of Your Luggage and Your Worldly Concerns." For the readers who have been with me for a long time that probably seems hilarious. I have documented in words and pictures my struggle against mess. And it is not like I'm typing this from a neat, clean office where victory has been declared. I am a pretty light packer, though, when I actually travel and I'm learning to downsize I hope. And I think that packing light is a good metaphor for the complications of one's life and dealing with them. And I think I've come to terms in my life with my relationship with things.

Also, I've been reviewing those recycled resolutions and the next one up is this: "take Bridge lessons and learn more about Bridge." Four years ago I hadn't been retired that long and I hoped that I could find time to play what I think is a fascinating game. When I worked I went through a period of time when my colleagues and I tried to play Bridge at lunch. As I have done so often in my life, I decided that the best way to embrace this new pastime was to buy a lot of books about Bridge. Books about bidding systems, the play of the hand and such. In the process I discovered a niche category of books that seemed fun to collect: Bridge literature. Really these books were just analyses of interesting hands but they incorporated a bit of character and story to make it more interesting. Besides passing the time when a bunch of my nerd buddies needed a small break but didn't feel like going out to lunch, this dabbling with Bridge resulted in a two-foot tall stack of books, mostly unread. And while I never learned a bit more about Bridge, took lessons or started playing I met a lot of people who did play and realized that I probably never would take it up. So...I found a gal who was glad to have the books. Who played and liked to read about it. And I gave her the books. It's a small thing, yes. But I realized that if I ever started playing, I could get more books. My friend even asserted that she would loan them back in this case. (Although in my guide to traveling light I would never recommend you count on getting anything back that you loan or give away.)

It is quite true that much of the weight I carry through life is in the form of bound paper. I am trying to prune and sift my library, though, and I'm cataloging the ones I (currently) indend to keep. I have even started putting this data online at LibraryThing. I haven't gotten to the limit for free cataloging yet (200 books). And when I travel? Yeah. I always take too many books. And when I get to another city, even in a foreign country, I manage to find more books to buy. My spouse is no help in this matter. He is worse. Plus he reads faster and it takes more books to satisfy him. My advice for you, when you travel, is to take magazines and newspapers you can discard or a small, light book that is intense and engaging.

So travel light today folks.