21 posts tagged “texas”
Or, I've lost count how many times I've messed with Texas.
Mainly because I occasionally begin to think it might be OK down there, and then I remember: I've only ever really been to Austin. So I forget to pay attention.
And then BS like this pops up.
From the NY Times:
"President Obama's plan to deliver a speech to public school students on Tuesday has set off a revolt among conservative parents, who have accused the president of trying to indoctrinate their children with socialist ideas and are asking school officials to excuse the children from listening.
The uproar over the speech, in which Mr. Obama intends to urge students to work hard and stay in school, has been particularly acute in Texas, where several major school districts, under pressure from parents, have laid plans to let children opt out of lending the president an ear."
WHY O WHY does it not surprise me that out of all of the loony fringes in the loony parts of the U.S. that TEXAS comes up first.
This is YOUR PRESIDENT. Vote for him or not, like him or not, he is the UNITING FACTOR of what we call the UNITED STATES.
My favorite part:
“The thing that concerned me most about it was it seemed like a direct channel from the president of the United States into the classroom, to my child,” said Brett Curtiss, an engineer from Pearland, Tex., who said he would keep his three children home.
“I don’t want our schools turned over to some socialist movement.”
That's right, your GOVERNMENT-FUNDED PUBLIC SCHOOLS shouldn't be turned into a socialist movement. And get your grubby government hands off my Medicare, while you're at it.
I really wanted to restrain myself from noting that had this been the former President Shrub, and it had been 2003 or 04 and he'd decided to give a speech to public schools, and some Democrats had objected the reply would have been: "Why would you do something so anti-patriotic? We are AT WAR. Why do you hate America?"
And then I decided not to restrain. The HYPOCRISY IS PAINFUL.
And my eldest niece has just started to attend these schools.
Lord help us all.
It's a really great way to end what has -- for the most part -- been a pretty trying year.
The story came about last November when I was visiting the family in their suburban Austin digs; anyone who knows me and listens to it will hear lots of Easter eggs, though the characters aren't directly modeled off of anyone. Except the dog.
While I was down there for Thanksgiving, I remember coming back from my brother's home and Mom pointing out that folks were already decorating their houses for Christmas. "It's like a competition," she noted.
That marinated for a few days, and when I got home it all came out pretty fast. When I get one that people (i.e. publishers) seem to like, I rarely need revisions. When I have to go over it a dozen times, that's probably one that's dead meat. This one I think had a rough draft and a final version and that was about it.
I sent it off to Kevin Colligan at pulp fiction podcast Well Told Tales (where I'd been vetting some of their stories for a few months already, and listening to for longer than that) and to my shock he took it. And there was compensation.
Listening to it tonight I discovered two small flaws (in the story, not the telling) that I'm hoping no one else finds annoying. But I'm the anal-retentive writer, so of course they'll irk me forever.
Do head on over to Well Told Tales! (Or subscribe to it via ITunes.) I'd love to hear what you think -- ideally on the site there or over here is fine, too. With luck, the muse will strike again and I'll have more up soon. And if not, apparently I'll just have to talk to my mom more often.
Here's the story.
Here's where you can subscribe online (warning: may not work if you're not already in ITunes).
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I never had a huge readership on this blog, but I did have a few folks who tuned in here and there and for that, I apologize. I just glommed on to Facebook around the time work got insanely busy, and blogging just took up too much spare time I suddenly didn't have. I may return in the new year to this space, maybe not, but feel free to check in over at Facebook (I think the link is on the left) and feel free to friend me!
Have a great holiday season folks, and watch out for waving Santas on the front lawn.
First a little housekeeping:
Next: What "Well Told Tales" loved, "Alfred Hitchcock Magazine" was less than charmed by. I got a form rejection letter today (thanks, but doesn't fit our needs, etc.). But the rejection is tempered: Some nice editor wrote a note at the bottom, saying, "I really enjoyed 'Home for the Holidays' and look forward to another funny story from you." There's a signature, but this guy was clearly a doctor in a previous life because it's illegible.
What's funny about being considered funny is that the story isn't really written for guffaws; it's dark humor at best. But, whatever, I'll take what I can. I recently read advice that following a rejection the thing you do immediately is ship the story out elsewhere, so "Ellery Queen," stand back!
And at last: Right, so Passover in Pflugerville and Round Rock, the two small suburbs outside of Austin that draw me nigh for major holidays. Maybe I'm getting soft in my old age, or maybe it's just useless to swim against the tide all the time, but other than the long journey down there, I'm not minding visiting East Texas so much any more. I kind of have a curiosity about the place, and want to see some of the smaller towns. Maybe even watch a real tumbleweed go by if possible.
Well, I got some of that this visit. It was just a three-day thing, so Mom and I headed out to Greuneon Saturday for their once-a-month outdoor marketplace. I kinda like a place that has so many fun places to shop, an outdoor market, and a slogan that reads "gently resisting change since 1872." It also has Texas' oldest dance hall (below) and some truly creative ideas for crafts and homemade goodies. I'm not so sure I'd care to have a copper-and-brass single rose (even if you put a wad of cotton in it that smelled rosy, as the guy running the stand did), but I really did like the wooden shelves made in part with tin roof squares. It's just hard to transport that kind of thing all the way back home and frankly, I don't have the decor.
But it was a lovely warm day and we found a secret parking spot that was probably not fully allowed but nobody ticketed us, we got chips and cheese at the local Mexican joint and made plans to come back another day because we had to leave early enough to be home for Passover.
Now, Passover is many things and we all ate some amazing food and read the Haggadah and tried to restrain a 1-year old while keeping a 4-year old interested in the proceedings (both succeeded in limited ways). My brother makes a kick-ass matzo ball soup, and he even bought me a great big slab of fish for my portion (since I don't eat the brisket). You can't say they don't make you feel at home. We even got Nat the baby to speak briefly: Syd started making up knock-knock jokes ("Knock-knock!" "Who's there?" "Table!" "Table who?" (long pause) "Table with the salt on it! Bwah-ha!") and suddenly Nat said, "Knock knock." Amazing.
They are, however, raising a complete hellion risk-taking giggle-puss. Craig asked if I wanted to come with him and Sydney to get the mail. On their golf cart. I've talked about the fact that he has a golf cart to get the mail before, but little did I realize that the journey to the actual mailbox was, shall we say, circuitous. I dare you to watch this video and hear my niece laugh even as she heads into the "deep, dark forest" and not feel a little bit joyous yourself. Please to enjoy, but please don't tell her mother.
So the next day, Craig, Syd and myself all headed out for SeaWorld, which was about as far as Greune, and then some, just near San Antonio. The trip was pretty uneventful (though it's pretty impressive how high up they stack their highway overpasses), but SeaWorld, that was something else. I'd never gone, neither had Syd, and we just rocked the house.
Craig tolerantly followed us around as we pointed at Clydesdales (not usually a sea creature, but Busch owns the park), Beluga whales, dolphins, alligators, and Shamu himself.
And then, to no one's surprise (especially if you'd been on that golf cart ride the night before), Syd wanted to ride the Shamu roller coaster. The kiddie one that she just barely makes the height limit for.
So we went on it.
Three times.
I kid you not. As soon as we got off, she'd say "again!" and then not even flinch when we said we'd have to wait in line again. (Admittedly, the lines weren't long, but what 4-year old has patience?)
Then, Craig did the thing everybody wants their father to do whenever they theme park that sells gigantic prizes.
He won her a giant Shamu.
(The gray one she's holding in the picture is a dolphin she won herself, she never let go of it the whole time -- except on the Shamu rollercoaster -- but there's just no comparison: Shamu totally blew everything else away.) Craig humped it (I know there's a humpback whale joke in there somewhere) all over the park, even setting it down for the actual Shamu show in one of the bleacher seats.
And really, while I've got all of this shpilkis over is this humane to make animals perform for us, watching the great Orcas do their shit completely blew my mind. You can't help but envy their trainers, who get to ride on them or with them or on their noses, and when the whales flop themselves into the air or onto the platforms you can't help but get excited, too.
Personally, I had little tears in my eyes because they're just so beautiful.
No wonder we had a sleepy young lady who conked out on the way home. Oh, and Sydney took a nap too.
One final note: We did have to make a pit stop on the way home. And while there, I noticed how we'd pulled into a gas station that had this classic BBQ locale parked right next door:
Now, that's Texas, right there for you.
Never even saw Austin. In three days I hit: Pflugerville, Gruene (pronounced "Green" but you know we had fun calling it "Groin"), Round Rock, and Sea World.
My niece Sydney (at left) may in fact have been more tired post-Shamu (and really, is there more tired than falling asleep with half a chocolate chip cookie in your mouth?) but only by degrees.
Will report back more soon, but one more photo to share:
Yeah, it was that kind of vacation.
So, two Novembers ago, I was down in Texas for Thanksgiving. Craig, my SIL Kris and their then-onliest-child Sydney and I went to the Austin Zoo.
Now, bear in mind, I was accustomed to the Washington, D.C. zoo, and the Bronx Zoo. They were enormous metropolitan monstrosities with attendance to match, particularly when the pandas were out and about. The Austin zoo is barely near Austin itself -- and it's down a dusty set of streets that end on Rawhide Road, where you are in fact at a zoo.
They even have signs warning you what not to do with the monkeys, and what penalties you will suffer if you interfere with the monkeys (click on photo on right to get the full extent of the fine print). Lions, apparently, are fine with the cell phones.
They also have peacocks, which run loose and screech.
Anyway, today I (and possibly thousands of other Flickr users, who knows) had a photo selected from my Austin Zoo trip (of that there peacock) to appear in this tourist type interactive map guide called Schmap. No compensation, but it's still kind of a neat thing. Personally, I think the photos of my niece were far cuter, but I guess they wanted actual residents of the zoo for the map.
I tell you, I could let this Austin thing grow on me. Seriously: The story I've got coming out in Well Told Tales in December takes place in Austin (ish), and now the photo. Maybe someone's trying to send me a message....
At left, the latest in the continuing selection of "Two Heads Together" photos.
This is what happens: SXSW is such a huge, overwhelming event with so much going on at all hours that the idea of blogging it is just insane. Some people appear to have more than 24 hours in a day, but not me. And then I get home and go to another three-day conference (hello, Lunacon) and there's even more to write about and then I get home finally and rest up and then I can't imagine writing it all up and reliving everything.
So, a few highlights:
- Interviewing Mr. Harlan Ellison (pictured) and his great documentary film director Erik Nelson (the film is "Dreams With Sharp Teeth" at the Driskill Hotel, in the bar mezzanine area. And having some tourists wander in during the chat and Harlan immediately snapping their heads off and ordering them to get the fuck out. (All SXSW interviews located here; click on "Festivals" tab.)
- Running into the filmmakers of "Second Skin," a documentary about folks who play way too much World of Warcraft and Everquest and end up meeting the loves of their lives by doing so, over and over again, until we kept joking that we were mutually stalking one another
- Stubb's! Ribs! Then, getting a call to do a breaking story just as my lemonade arrives and writing up the story at the table while the ribs cooled and getting 'cue sauce on my mouse
- Having a long chat with the affable and talented Jonathan Coulton, who agreeably played the delightful "Shop Vac" at my request during his show later that evening (go download his stuff; he's hilarious and amazing and writes songs about zombies sometimes)
- Becoming deeply irrtated at the frustrating debut feature "Yeast" and yet still finding that that was the most emotion a film has dredged up in me in years
- Winning a 250 gig hard drive storage device (two years in a row of getting a prize after putting my business card in a glass vase!)
- Interviewing the filmmakers and comedian who put together "Super High Me" in a glass-enclosed structure on the SXSW trade show floor. As soon as they started talking about smoking doobage, we got quite a crowd.
- Later getting a tipoff from the publicist that one thing they'd talked about was actually news that we could now report in the issue, and writing up the story on a table outside the press room (which stupidly closed at 6pm)
- Trying to find parking in downtown during SXSW Film/Interactive: Possible. Trying to find parking downtown during SXSW Music, with half of the streets blocked off: Forget it. So I didn't see any music bands.
- Sitting in the Dell Lounge with Morgan Spurlock to discuss "Where in the World is Osama Bin Laden" and trying to ignore the fresh carpet Dell had laid down, which smelled like cat pee
- Lunacon: Just repeatedly running into fun and interesting people who tended to wear Utilikilts, watching little girls squee at seeing Doctor Who memorabilia (including a Tardis ice bucket), giggling over the enormous Tribble in the costume contest, slowly broiling in the hot tub and getting out-walked by a speed-hobbling demon on crutches all weekend. Oh, and there were panels in which one moderator kept saying "apo-clyptic," instead of "apocalyptic." And birthday cake!
So what have you been doing the last week or so?
Dear Publicists,
I am closed for any further contact about South By Southwest 2008.
My dance card is so full my feet are broken.
I am entertaining any offers to drive me to the airport tomorrow morning, however.
AT SIX.
For those who have an interest, I'll be blogging the fest here, and possibly here. When time allows. Which is never.
Oh, my word.
My flying buddy Heath Ledger seems to be dead.
Manhattan hotel room apartment building. Appears to have hanged himself taken pills.
Bad news. More no doubt to come.
EDIT: For the morbid, here's info on the apartments in the building where he was found.
Then there was ham and turkey breast and stuffing and corn (with a whole stick of butter!) and gravy and cranberry and pickles and rolls and mashed potatoes and green bean casserole and I think that's the whole schmear but I could have forgotten something.
And there were mournful dogs on the floor begging for scraps and there were two children one of whom watched TV and one of whom looked at us solemnly with her ear infection and sniffly nose and ate mashed potatoes for the first time.
Then there was rest of a kind.
Then there was sleepytime for children.
Then there was "Grey's Anatomy."
Then there was Dutch apple pie and ice cream. And green tea chocolates.
Then there was contented happiness before driving home.
And that was Thanksgiving this year, in Austin, TX.
Tonight, there are leftovers. So we do it all again in about 45 minutes.
Hope yours was as delightful and tasty and everything else special, that nothing broke and everything that was consumed stayed down and that you have leftovers.
And that you have as much fun as my almost-year-old niece Natalie did when we turned her upside down and shook her for quarters.
Brokeback celeb, first class w/ iPod.
Post Flight Update: In case you're wondering who you should be looking at, it's the blond dude with the little pony tail in first class. Only person in first class. The flight attendant came over to my seat later (the one next to me had goopy stuff on it and she was affixing a "do not occupy" label to it) and said, "You know who that is in first class?" And I said yup.
"I feel bad for him. He asked if we served food."
I said he could have my chips I'd brought onboard if he wanted. She demurred.
Silly celebrity. Trix are served on actual real flights, not doofy small jets to Texas towns. Methinks he's here to start work on "Tree of Life," which has Austin a location on IMDb.