Pompadours and Avocados

South by Southwest is about to descend on our fair city like a horde of drunken mice- sleeping in all the beds, taking up all the parking spots, and eating all the breakfast tacos. 6 weeks into my new life here (it feels like substantially longer then that) and I am about to be initiated into a week of grandeur and merriment I can barely imagine, though it is only days away.  I shall report back.

The stormy seas of change I described upon my arrival here have reached a more even keel, as the many different pieces I was juggling fell into a new, but comfortable, rhythm. In the past 4 weeks I have found myself 2 part time jobs, acquired a bed, and met some absolutely lovely people, some of whom I've taken quite a shine too . . .

My first job, which we shall now refer to as "my stupid job," is at a chain coffee shop similar to Tully's, which originated in Southern California.  To this end, we sometimes have very blond, very tan women in shiny Escalades run into the store, gushing "I'm so glad I found you! Oh my GOD! Can I please have a large ultimate extreme mocha iced blended? Oh, and no whip!"  Kill me now. The people I work with are quite nice, and to be fair, many of the regulars are very sweet too.  I am getting used to working early shifts, the opening shift being from 4:30 am - 10:00 am.  Every time I wake up that early I remind myself that my dear father has been waking up at 4:00 am for the the past 30 years for his job at SDOT.  Hats off to you, Papa.

Speaking of which, my parents have been very sweet and have sent me a box of things from home, so I now have sheets, 2 vegetarians cookbooks, a few pairs of sneakers, kleenex, a chocolate bunny, and some of my favorite sundresses hanging in the closet.  I should start stocking the bar for their arrival, sometime in mid-April . . .

The short plays I am working on are going well, though a bit stress-inducing as we head straight into the last few weeks before performances. I think I have effectively managed to burn myself out within the first 2 months here (dammit Samm, you called it!) and have decided that following these shows I will take a break until the fall, so I may allow more time for reading Steinbeck novels and going swimming as the temperature begins to rise.

I also really want a dog. Is that bad? A dog and a car, I would like each of those.  Maybe not for awhile, but I am putting both those thoughts on the back burner, to simmer until I find a job that pays more then $8 an hour.

Did I mention the land smells different here? Reminds me of my Nanny and Grandpa Dave's neighborhood in Charlottesville. Wide streets, trees with large beautiful branches, front porches all adorned with chairs for sitting, and the scent of dirt, acorns, and sunlight.

Rodney, if you happen to read this, I wanted to tell you that I saw a great Rockabilly set by the venerable Dale Watson, a local legend with a shock of white hair that he styles into a sweet Pompadour, who plays weekly around town.  I saw him at the Highball, a bar/bowling alley with antique lanes that made me think of that final scene of There Will be Blood, where they serve pickled okra with your beer, and ladies dress up to two step dance on the shiny wooden dance floor.  I went with my friend Annie, we said hello to her friend who plays bass with Dale Watson, had some wine, the headed to The Broken Spoke.

The Broken Spoke is an Austin institution- looks like it hasn't been touched in 40 years, and was home to the likes of Willie Nelson, back in the day. They serve your beer or wine in plastic cups, you drink at picnic tables covered in red checkered tablecloths, and old men show up everynight to two-step, and glide across that floor with absolute grace.  After the Highball Annie and I went to see another local musician named Jesse Dayton play, he is something of an aging rockstar who was rumored to have a distinct sexual charisma onstage. He was a prodigy in his early years, and I will readily admit is a venerable force as a guitar player and performer.  I wasn't really sold on the allure of him, bit of a potbelly starting to show under his faded t-shirt, until I noticed he had locked eyes with me during one of his songs, at which point Annie whispers to me. "he just purred at you." It was true, he had. Only in Texas, is my response to that- only in Texas.

Morning is upon me now, and I do believe it is time for eggs and avocado, turkey bacon and a cup of coffee. A day off, free to work on the Bike Noir play, sit on the porch, and survey the neighborhood.

I miss my folks, my sisters, my dear friends, and will especially hold you in my little heart in a few weeks, as my birthday approaches.  Not a bad way to spend a year though- traveling far and wide, only to end up in a desert city that is brimming with vitamin D and rife with possibility. Not bad at all.

Stayed tuned, for more tales from ATX . . .

yours very truly,
Red