Last train to Clarksville

Today was my last day in San Angelo (this trip), so we did a bit more roaming around the town. I've been wanting to see the newest exhibit at the San Angelo Museum of Fine Arts, Good Design: Stories from Herman Miller.

While the building is cool and a symbol of one of the better things about San Angelo, one of the things that keeps it from being truly outstanding is that the space is really only conducive to hosting one or two exhibits at a time. Flaws of weak exhibits glitter under the neon sign of failure, and even strong offerings by the museum can be a bit of a let down when they take all of 10 minutes to enjoy. Everyone likes a quickie every now and then, but sometimes you want something you can really sink your teeth into.

Anyway, I digress. I enjoyed the Herman Miller exhibit largely because I had no expectations. I was impressed with the effort they put into the graphic displays and telling the story. Was there much in the way of actual furniture? Not really. Most of what was on display can be found at some of the better thrift stores and antique malls around the country. Disconcerting that I've touched and sat in originals like the ones on display and yet was unable to even take a photo today.

The museum was also hosting an Indian festival today, so be browsed a couple of the tables there, and I took up their offer of a bindhi. I think I'm hooked. I want to wear one every day :-)

For lunch, we headed to Miss Hattie's for one of the burgers Texas Monthly dubbed one of the best in Texas. In addition to the tasty burger (I had the Triple XXX), I like the tawdry history of Miss Hattie's in that it was a bordello until 1946. The irony of passing under a White Ribbon Against Pornography banner just a couple of blocks away was not lost on me.

It was a nice way to spend my last day in San Angelo.

When geese attack

My day felt a little like this. And, yes, I really did get chased by a goose tonight. This fella here is my proof.

June Cleaver

Pyrex. Oh those coveted bowls and dishes. They are sought, collected, displayed and cherished by people all around the country.


Photo by Tofutti Break

My own beady eyes have scanned shelves at thrift stores for the pretty colors and patterns, attracted to simple styling and sturdiness, and I know I'm not alone. I've generally got a pal by my side who is just as enamored and cradling a slew of stacked bowls in her arms.


Photo by Leigh Kelsey

I never really stopped to think about why, past the aesthetic appeal, owning Pyrex provided such satisfaction. However, as I began making dinner at my mom's house tonight, I found myself headed to that familiar shelf in the cabinet where she keeps her Pyrex casserole dishes. As I pulled it down, I realized that it's the connection to my past and the stories of growing up that drive me to inadvertently seek out that Pyrex casserole dish.

While just a piece of glass, the brand is also my grandmother teaching me how to make a lasagna...Thanksgivings around the kitchen table...watching my mom make crazy cakes (Better Than Sex cake, anyone?) for special occasions.


Photo by Curtis Cronn

Come away with me

Louis Vuitton released these pretty darned creative video guides in an effort to promote the launch of their new city guides. I have a soft spot for quirky videos. The combination of their brevity, visual eye candy and delivery of off-beat facts totally lured me in. Now I just need to find the time and money for a few international jaunts this coming year. :-)









Louis Vuitton city guide Berlin from Doc News on Vimeo.

First seen on Honestly, WTF.

No country for old men

Note: I apologize for all the Texas posting, folks. I'm not obsessed. It's just so much easier to capture my memories and thoughts of the state while I'm knee-deep in the culture. I'm here 'til the 18th, so bear with me.

The West Texas landscape is unforgiving. Mile after mile of mesquite and cactus. Dry creek beds where, in more hospitable climates, you would see water flowing.

Back when I called Texas home, the drive was something to be endured. Highways became familiar and monotonous after traveling to Friday away games in the back of a yellow bus, weekend getaways and Sunday drives. However, time and distance provide a refreshed perspective. Stark transforms into beautiful. Flat suddenly feel expansive, providing breathing room for days.

35

I turned 35 today. Holy cow. For the first time in 12 years, I spent my birthday in Texas. My day...in pictures.




We hit up Saturday at the Chicken Farm Art Center.


We ended up running into a parade on our way downtown. I tried to tell myself the celebration was for me.




Modeling a bag we decided would be better suited to life as a pet.


Wandering around downtown.


A bowl my mom bought for me at the Chicken Farm.


Vintage bow ties I picked up. So excited to use these for future crafty endeavors.


Dinner!


Cake :-)

Sheep

Bonfire by the talented Lisa Congdon (I figured you at least needed pretty things to look at if you were going to listen to my rant.)

Within the first hour of every trip home, my mom will most assuredly look me in the eye and declare political conversations off limits. She really should know better by now, and it's generally a debate I look forward to. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned it here before, but despite my grandfather's best efforts* to ensure I was raised a dedicated Republican campaigner, he ended up passing on all his enthusiasm to a radical progressive. Oops.

This in no way deters him from still trying. Yesterday he popped his head in while I was working to let me know about Obama's trip to India, wondering if I knew about the number of planes he was taking and the fact that it was costing us $200 million a day. Despite my prodding him that that sounded a bit ridiculous, he stuck to his guns that he heard it on the news.


Three Sheep by Lisa Congdon

Where is everyone's skepticism? Why the immediate need to believe everything you're fed by the news media? I hopped on Google and began to do some pretty simple digging. Within 5 minutes I had ascertained that the reports were made by an anonymous source at an Indian paper. Really? U.S. outlets are just going to blindly accept that and run with it? Of course they are...at least long enough for it gain traction. It seeps through media outlets and is picked up by conservatives doing some last minute stumping. It gets repeated over and over and those listening accept hearsay as fact.

Over dinner tonight I happened to mention what I found out to my grandfather. He, of course, seemed skeptical. As we ate, I overheard bits and pieces of the conversation of the table next to us (yes, I'm that girl). More proliferation of the Obama story and some conservative railing against liberals. Information and opinions passed along as fact without any sort of legitimate backing whatsoever. I'm pretty sure my mom thought I was going to blow a gasket as I glanced at her. She, too, had heard.

Putting political differences aside, what blows my mind is the seemingly blind acceptance of the information people are presented with. Where are the seekers? If I were to hear on the news that Republicans were trying to repeal women's voting rights, I wouldn't just accept and repeat. I would research, dig, verify through multiple sources of differing credibility. After three years on the college debate team, I learned very quickly that you can find "evidence" and "facts" to support whatever position you want to take. The world is going to end in 3 days? Done. A nuclear power plant in Utah will set off a chain reaction that will speed up global warming? Done.

I guess I would just sleep better at night if people would take at least five minutes to do a little of their own digging because, if they did, I doubt** this particular story would have spread as quickly as it did. Later tonight, my grandpa popped his head in again to tell me that the news (Bill O'Reilly) was now saying those figures were likely exaggerated and incorrect. Duh. ;-)

*I remember being in junior high and brought along to work the elections with my grandpa.
**Who am I kidding? Of course, it would have spread because it served the political will of certain folks.

Just another day in the neighborhood

I took a break from working today and actually escaped the house. It hit me last night that I hadn't so much as walked outside since Sunday evening and had, instead, been virtually tethered to the family recliner, pounding away on my laptop keys trying to meet work deadlines. Un.heal.thy.

So, with Texas temperatures finally cooperating, I took a break to run some errands with my mom's car. Angelo State University was my first stop, the alma mater that I hadn't seen since I graduated 12 years ago (gulp). I went with the purpose of visiting a high school friend who is now a lecturer with the math department. I spend so much time whenever I'm in San Angelo trying to avoid anyone I might possibly have known in high school, so I decided to take a different tactic this time. The more evolved part of my brain decided I should actively seek out the people I know (and know where they are) in order to just face the awkward small talk head on. With that in mind, I girded my loins and made the drive.

Small talk did indeed happen. I heard all about the kids and family vacations. There was also the obligatory discussion about whether we kept in touch with anyone else from high school. Despite the mundane conversation, it was what it should have been...a decent way for two people who used to be close to share part of their lives and a much better way to make a connection than friending someone on Facebook.

Cupcakes and the support of a local independent business were next on my agenda.



My mom has been talking about a new cupcake shop that opened inside a local florist, so in my quest to sample new cupcakes wherever I travel, I went to pick up a few for the family. I tried my best to be unbiased, but the name had me skeptical before I ever set foot inside the shop. Cakes in a Cup? I understand the desire to be cute and come up with a play on words, but it comes off as more annoying, less clever.



Honestly, though, the name is the least of their worries. While the cupcakes maintain the appearance of similar cupcakes in well-known bakeries throughout DC (*cough* Georgetown Cupcake *cough*), their appeal ends there. I judge all bakeries by their vanilla cupcake and usually a couple more unique flavors. The vanilla cupcake offered up by Cakes in a Cup was one of the worst vanilla cupcakes I have had in a while. The icing was hard and extremely dense. One of the cupcakes above actually rolled over, and the icing didn't even dent. To make matters worse, there was very little flavor outside of huge amounts of sugar. We sampled 3 or 4 of the flavors offered and were continually disappointed (family consensus here). Of the cupcakes we tried, the Freshly Squeezed cupcake was by far the best with a lighter icing and just enough lemon zing. Even this wasn't enough to save the place from my criticism.

So, kids, public service message of the day: If you're ever in San Angelo and feel like a cupcake, skip Cakes in a Cup and go try a cookie from Hauffman's Cake Cottage.

P.S. There are plenty of people I probably wouldn't waste my breath on from high school. Those weren't even in consideration for looking up.
P.S.S. I actually had one more person on my list to look up at ASU but couldn't bring myself to do it. Too much baggage associated with this one just to walk in blindly. Maybe another day.

I brake for barns

It's true. While a stoic red barn highlighted against an azure sky (preferably Pantone 2718 C) is always a head turner, I am lured in just as easily by the faded patina of a greying structure on its last legs. Barns are somewhat romantic (like when Christopher plays Funny Face on the side of a barn for Lorelai in Gilmore Girls) and admittedly sometimes scary (having played a role in any number of scary movies. Anyway, when I saw these stickers at the conference I was at last week, I knew I had to pick one up. As the girl who is always trying to convince friends and family to stop and pose in front of barns, I couldn't resist.

I love you so much

Search for Stars Hollow: Mason, TX

I feel like it's important to continue cataloging all misses in the search for my own Stars Hollow because maybe not quite right for me is perfect for someone else. On Friday evening, I drove through Mason, Texas en route from Austin to San Angelo. It was dusk, and as I rounded the central courthouse square, I was charmed by the bevy of shops lining the street. A banner strung across the street advertised an upcoming wild game dinner to benefit the community. Secretly, I vowed to convince my mom to come back with me, and true to my word, we were headed there Saturday morning shortly after breakfast at the Charcoal House.

Mason has a population just past 2,000, and like many small towns in Texas it is anchored by a central court house and square. We ended up haphazardly choosing a good day to visit as musicians and artists lined the square to hock their wares.

I hate to admit that the art was mediocre, but whatever, it was. I love bluebonnets and windmills, but I get tired of seeing so much West Texas art feature these symbols in such typical ways. What was truly heartbreaking (to me) was how hungry these guys were for sales. It was awkward to walk down the sidewalk and be pitched so actively. As I passed the work of one artist who caught my eye, I picked up the painting out of curiosity to find out what it was priced and felt so bad for the girl as she stumbled over herself to tell me the price was negotiable. She would have been so much more affective had she stuck by her price and been more confident.

The square itself is lined with an antique mall, a few gift shops, a museum and a couple of cafes. I got the impression the main street economy was geared toward tourists like us as the antique mall was way overpriced, and the other stores along the way had nothing really unique to offer.

Despite some of the Stars Hollow similarities I saw when passing through, I knew Mason wasn't for me when we walked within earshot of some local electioneering at the court house. I didn't linger to find out if the political leanings were right or left, but experience and common sense leads me to believe we would have been at opposite ends of the political spectrum.

In a region where cactus outnumber people, "cool" Fall temperatures are a balmy 82-90 degrees, and the politicians are likely conservative, my Stars Hollow I will not find.

Hey, Paula Cole, the cowboys are here

Conference over, and I'm back in San Angelo until my next Texas conference in a couple of weeks.

After a couple of months away, I always manage to convince myself that San Angelo isn't very western or country.

Clearly, I have an amazing ability to blank on reality. At breakfast this morning, it appeared Wranglers were required for admission, and there were too many cowboy hats to count at dinner.

Austin: Day 1

I always forget how amazing Austin is. As a native Texan who has explored many of the state's nuanced crevices, both large and small, I find liking Austin cliche. Paul Goldberger* put it best in today's speech when he said that Austin is the one place in Texas that everyone from places like New York and San Francisco can agree to like. Still, the proof is in the pudding, so to speak. Austin has a lot to offer.



Last night Charlie (the brother) picked me up from the airport and dropped me by my hotel. I ended up getting a room at the Austin Motel on South Congress (SoCo). While I'm a good mile from the conference hotel, SoCo is a fun, walkable neighborhood. There are tons of independent shops and restaurants, and the entire neighborhood just has an open vibe. The Austin Motel is fun because it has themed rooms and a laid back atmosphere.







Texas, however, is killing my Fall buzz. I got up this morning and was able to have breakfast outside in my flip flops. In fact, the pool at the motel is still open.





Anyway, I walked across Town Lake into downtown in order to find the Hilton and check-in to the conference. I then camped out in the hotel lobby to do some work and wait for the opening plenary at 5:00.**





I fully anticipated being bored during the plenary but was so glad to be dead wrong. They kicked off the session with some live music from local musicians (check out Phoebe Hunt, phenomenal voice, cool fiddle, with the Belleville Outfit). As entertaining as the music was, it was far from the best part. The president of the National Trust was motivating and even Laura Bush had some great stories. However, Paul Goldberger,  the New Yorker's architecture critic, was phenomenal. He said so many things that were quote worthy and inspiring. I've been searching the internet for video of the speech and am hopeful he will post a transcript on his site. I left the 2-hour assembly pumped and brimming with ideas.

I capped the evening off with tacos from Guero's Taco Bar up the street from my hotel. After sampling the Al Pastor that was made with marinated pork, pineapple, cilantro and lime, I can see why it's one that put them on the map.



*OMG,so brilliant that I'm going to end up gushing.
**5?! It felt late for kicking off a conference, but who am I to judge?

When the paint dries and you can finally sleep

The event is over. The paint is dry. I am tired. I'm working up an effort to write something more interesting in the next couple of days. :-)









Despite the fact that we moved the location (closer to the dam, which was great) of our press event the day before it happened, I'm still please we were able to spice up a little bit of the site.

Everything is temporary

Here's a little sneak peek at my *surprise* project for work. I got so pumped today when I saw how breathtaking it was. I'm refraining from posting more because I want certain people to be surprised in person.



I need to spill a little bit about my struggle today. The artists are only painting a small portion of the site that will be most visible to folks attending an event. There are other areas along the path still covered with graffiti. One piece, in particular, is a giant penis. I went there today with every intention of painting over it.



However, as I was standing in the paint aisle at Home Depot with a can of Kilz in my hand, I couldn't help but stop in my tracks. The Kilz label talked about its effectiveness at covering stains, and as I pondered what I was planning to cover, I began to feel bad for the penis.

I realize I over think a lot of things, but I began to wonder who I was to judge this particular graffiti piece. Does valuing one particular style of graffiti over another make me into a bourgeois elite poser? Aren't I entitled to my own aesthetic? Why should I value this particular rendition of the penis as worthy of any kind of permanence?

Anyway, you can see what kind of random paths my thought process takes. For now the penis stays, but I can't guarantee it will make it through the weekend.

Schoolyard memories

Have you ever stopped to marvel at how quickly some things become antiquated? I remember being in junior high and my mom telling me how I needed to take typing because it would be a useful skill to have. Typing. I bet they never even fathomed how much of our lives we would spend tethered to computers and mobile phones. Can you imagine typing still being offered as an elective? I swear I'm not that old, but knowing that I took typing makes me feel a little older than I should.

Any antiquated memories you'd like to share?

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