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Friday, February 4th
Before our trip, Kate is home here in London and phoning around to various Austin pubs to get a fix on who's playing where. Cindy and Kate have been doing this every once in a while for the past few weeks. She's looking at all the places that Butch Hancock played during his 30 days of February 1993, as reported in the "Music City Texas" fanzine, that they brought back from Texas last year.
Reg says, "Why don't you call 'Lubbock or Leave It'?" (that's Butch Hancock's store in Austin). So she does, the phone rings at the other end and a voice answers, "Butch speaking". Kate is uncharacteristically silent, dumbfounded, and stutters, "Butch Hancock?" And it is! They have a long chat. But no, he's not playing anywhere while we're in Austin (he had played at the Cactus Cafe the night before) but he will be in Toronto February 20th and in Kitchener on the 21st or 22nd. So Kate chatted him up a bit more and asked whether there was anything good going on in Austin while we were going to be there, "Is there anything you'd recommend?" He said there was sure to be lots of good things and suggested we might like to see Will Sexton (the younger brother of Charlie Sexton who plays with Dylan) at the Steamboat Springs bar/club (on Pecan St) on the Saturday night we arrive and that he (ie. Butch) might be sitting in with them. Well! That settled what we would be doing when we get to Austin on Saturday. And there are tall tales to tell — but later for that!
Saturday, February 5th.
Saturday morning. Kate had called Cindy on Friday night to report her conversation with Butch. Pat was unbelieving but impressed. Kate says that Southwest Airlines, or perhaps our travel agent, suggested we should call the airline before we left for Detroit to make sure the plane was on time. And they're agreed that Kate should call them at 9:00 a.m. Saturday morning for the flight status. So when Kate called Southwest this morning the guy asked her what the weather was like there in Detroit. We're not in Detroit, but close enough, so Kate said, "It's okay." And the Southwest guy said, "Oh well then, it will probably be on time." A real confidence builder!
Cindy arrives at Kate and Reg's south London home just shortly before 10:00 a.m., the appointed time for our departure. Jack and Doreta are with Kate and Reg and ready to go. However, by the time the car was packed and Kate had fed the cats, we didn't get on the road until almost 10:30 for a 1:25 p.m. Detroit departure. In retrospect we were cutting it a bit tight.
We got quite the grilling at Ambassador bridge between Windsor and Detroit. The US customs wanted to know why we five were going to Texas, what we had with us, etc. but we got through that and then into a construction traffic jam. We realized we were getting quite late, tempers flared a bit and we got to the airport at 1:00 for our 1:25 departure. We are cutting it very tight!
Reg drops the gang off at the airport departure and parked the car, Kate ran ahead to the ticket counter and Cindy, with Jack and Doreta, tried to check in the baggage and finally did so at the check-in counter. Cindy took Jack and Doreta through security in order to get our boarding passes. Somehow, they didn't want to let Jack through, so Cindy left them and ran to get the seats — it's now about 1:10 and cutting it very tight indeed!
The boarding for Southwest Airlines, or at least the planes we travel on, is sort of "general admission" and your boarding pass is a "first come, first served" ticket supplied at check-in. There are no assigned seats. There were 122 seats on the plane and we had tickets numbered 109 through 113, so it's a rather full plane and we'll be near the last to board.
Just as Cindy got the boarding passes, Kate and Reg appeared with Jack and Doreta, and we then all heard an announcement that the plane has been delayed until 2:05. We all, kind of deflated, sat around, sighed, mopped our brows and caught our breath. That was close!
Kate and Cindy, with this extra time, went to find some junk food to supplement the sandwiches they had brought. The other thing you need to know about Southwest Airline is that it's "No Frills" — you bring your own lunch. It's also sometimes called "Peanut Butter Airlines" — you bring your own peanut butter sandwiches.
Our flight is a "milk-run" and has several stops along the way: first Chicago, then St Louis, and then change planes in Houston for the final leg to Austin. It's cheap but not particularly convenient.
The plane left about 2:30 on the first leg to Chicago (Midway not O'Hare). The airline is sort of like a Greyhound bus — people get off and on at each stop. We were so late getting on in Detroit, that all that was left were single seats. Kate and Cindy got middle seats beside very large gentlemen. The first leg to Chicago was only 1 hour, hardly enough time for a drink. Cindy wisely poured hers into her traveler mug. Kate's drink was confiscated mid-sip as landing preparations caught her unprepared. However, her neighbor on the one side, a Southwest frequent flyer, gave her some free drink coupons.
Another thing about Southwest, besides this commuter service, is that the stewards all wear comfortable cotton slacks, sweaters and running shoes. And all the stewards are quite humorous. When they were giving the safety instructions for seats belts, emergency exits, life vests, etc. at the beginning of the flight, one wise ass comment in their spiel was, "There is no smoking allowed and anyone caught smoking will be escorted outside." Another funny line regarding crashes, the oxygen masks, etc. was "If you have a child beside you, or someone acting like one, take care of yourself first and then the child."
At Chicago more than half of the plane emptied. So Kate, Reg and Cindy got a threesome together and Jack and Doreta got seats together as well. But by this time the flight is running a bit late and the drinks were free. The next hop was Chicago to St Louis and again it's only about one hour. Jack was kept happy on this leg because he had a two year old in the seat in front of him to play with. From St Louis to Houston is about another 2 hours.
We had been scheduled to arrive in Houston at 5:15 and have to change planes to travel on to Austin, with the connecting plane departing at 6:00 p.m. That would be 45 minutes to change planes in the Houston airport and again this was cutting it a bit close. Of course, we were an hour late on our flight and it's getting later. But since they're giving us free drinks people were fairly amicable about that.
Anyways, we ended up arriving in Houston at 6:00 p.m. and they had held the Austin plane for us and a few others. We left about 15 minutes late from Houston but arrived early in Austin, so what the hey! This was the flight where the stand-up comic nature of Southwest became increasingly apparent. It started as we boarded the plane. We're already flying from the free drinks and somewhat giddy to have made the connection. Cindy and Doreta were awfully worried that the plane would not only wait for them but also wait for the luggage, having being unnerved by Reg. Both independently ask the steward about their luggage as we boarded. He turned out to be the head comic and started right away in making jokes about the baggage.
As we're leaving Houston the steward asks us to look out the window to the one side. "Those of you on the right side of the plane will be able to see a site that few people get to see — that's my apartment building."
We had to pay for our drinks this time. Well, why shouldn't we? They held the plane for us! Reg had a coupon that Kate had given him (she got it earlier from a seat mate) so he ended up never paying for a drink on the whole trip! This plane was quite empty and we managed to sit together in the six-seater section — three seats facing forward, three seats facing back with all of us knee to knee. I've never seen that configuration like that on any air travel before or since.
We managed to create quite a ruckus. The flight was less than half an hour so, of course, we hadn't downed our drinks when they started the descent, and we were discussing how they were going to take our drinks away from us. Doreta said loudly, "There's no way I'll let them take my drink away from me!" She was sozzled and didn't let her tell you anything different. Shortly, after the female steward came by (comedian number two) and said, "I'm letting you keep your drinks — not because I'm afraid of you but just because I'm nice!"
And as we landed, the head steward's commentary on the announcement system continues. As the plane rapidly decelerates on landing he says, "Whoa Nelly!"; a real cowboy expression you might say to your horse. And as we taxied on the ground to our gate he says, "Please stay seated until the Captain and Tennille have us safely stopped. ... A bit longer now. ... Thank you for remaining seated. ... Ok, now. All rise!" It was quite a comic experience, we enjoyed the ride and lots of laughs. We enjoyed their humor, the drinks helped.
We took a couple of cabs from the airport to the downtown Omni hotel. The hotel is only a block from Pecan Street entertainment district and the Driskill hotel where we had stayed last time. Alison, from Winnipeg, whom we meet up with in San Antonio, tells us to ask for the "government rate" and we do. Kate and Cindy are sort of government employees but I'm not sure the discount was intended for folks like us.
The Omni is a modern hotel, built in 1987, and becomes our base for much of this trip (with brief stays in San Antonio and Fredericksburg). The hotel is part of a city block complex with lots of office space (that has not been filled yet) with the hotel rooms above. It takes up a whole city block and it dominates the downtown as it's on a hill and is 20 stories high. It's a glassed in space, so the hotel is really in the building rather than free-standing. Our sixth floor rooms look out over a 20-story glassed in lobby. It's quiet, there's no street noises, but today some people were singing opera and more, and benefitting from the acoustics of this huge lobby.
We checked in Jack and Doreta and went down the hill to Pecan Street to search out some booze. Later we five walked down the hill to Pecan Street and over a block to Paradise, the restaurant, for dinner. Reg had a decent chicken fried steak, Kate had some Mexican stuff while Doreta only wanted some fries and gravy. It's is white gravy, "Sure do make a man feel happy to see white gravy on the side" (from Texas Cookin' by Guy Clark). The fries are about two pounds worth served in a basket!
In the restaurant restroom, Reg met a fellow changing his clothes. Yes, that is very strange. He explains that he's playing next door, at the Steamboat, but there's no change room there. Reg explained that Butch Hancock had recommended that we go to the bar to see Will Sexton. He tells Reg that Will comes on about 11:30 or so, and that he's in a front band called "Megadeff" (that's not really the name but the music fits accurately with that name). You know the style — a long haired singer with a vice clamp on his testes so he sings in a high soprano with alternating yelps and gasps. This singer, who is the leader of Megadeff, normally has short hair but wears a long black wig to perform!
We go next door to the Steamboat for the music after our dinner. When we checked in the doorman wanted $5 a person (later we see the Texana Dames at three dollars with James McMurtry for another two dollars at La Zona Rosa). Kate asked the door man about Will Sexton — "My good friend Butch says he's playing tonight." The door man explains that, "Yes, there is the super secret casual affair scheduled for later that night; and that no we don't advertise but you are obviously in the know — so come on in and we'll only charge $20 for the five of you." Some deal eh?
We had avoided the bar and the music during dinner next door as it was a quite loud. The band playing when we entered were an acoustic "Indigo Guys" kind of act called "The Farm Boys". They reminded Reg of "The Waltons — lick my tractor". They are very tight with nice harmonies, young university types and not too loud. We saw a vanity tape of theirs the next day at Tower Records for $3.99 but didn't buy.
Jack and Doreta found all the music a bit loud and ducked out early. They missed Megadeff who are really loud. Kate's obviously a VIP kind of chick so we get one of the few tables right up near the stage. It was loud all over, we weren't too close. It was a great view, and we can hardly wait until Butch arrives later to sing a few songs with Will Sexton.
Meanwhile Jack and Doreta have had the very good idea to head back to the Omni and to bed down for the night. When Megadeff are setting up Kate and Cindy take to the streets to escape the noise which is also a good idea. Reg remains to hold on to our seats and to hear this band. He develops a taste for Rolling Rock beer, a bad idea, as a waitress keeps serving him. The band is quite good, professional, very tight, and loudly scream their heavy metal falsetto as they perform their show. But, this is not country music, not folk music, nor anything else we came to Austin for — it's heavy metal.
When Kate and Cindy return, having missed the tattooed steel guitar player in Megadeff (a photo op for sure), it's getting to be 11:00 or so and the band is going to take a long while to tear down, the other guy has to set up, the room is quite smoky and Reg is quite pissed from the Rolling Rock — wisely, he wanders home alone for the night. The Butch Hancock fan group from the north (i.e. Kate and Cindy) tough it out in hopes of seeing Will Sexton and Butch play.
Reg wanked out about 11:00 p.m. at the Steamboat — he suffered through the heavy metal group and then ran out of steam at the Steamboat and missed the main act! Cindy and Kate with their eyes stinging with the smoke, were determined to stay for Will Sexton (mostly to see Butch Hancock, but also to see who Butch Hancock recommended). There's some hope that musically they'll be better than the previous screamers — these guys had a different look about them.
They were a pleasant change, quite good and interesting. Will wore a beret, the keyboard player (Jana Johnson) wore a shirt that looks sort of like "The Three Musketeers" with pleats at the back, there's a guy playing the double bass, someone on drums, and another guy on conga drum.
However, after a few songs Cindy and Kate had to leave. They were driven away by the smoke and are very tired travelers — barely still awake. It was past 1:30 a.m. our time and they had a long since turned into pumpkins. So they stumbled home to the Omni, the last to make it to bed and ending our first day of adventures in Austin.
Ps. Rumor has it that Butch arrived later that evening and played a bang up set that people still talk about .... NOT!
Sunday, February 6th
The waiter who serves us thinks that Cindy has stayed at the hotel before and when she says she has not, he says "Well, it's someone who looks just like you." Cindy retorts, "Oh, good looking, eh?" He engaged us in a conversation that started with, "So how much tax do you think you pay on a gallon of gas?" That was a pretty stunning question and after we had hashed that one out, and he found out we were from Canada, he initiated one of those healthcare discussions. Everyone left that conversation happy.
It's "Sunday Morning Coming Down" (c.f. Kris Kristofferson) and Kate needs thongs (not the bathing suit, thongs for her feet!) and Tylenol for a headache. Nothing's open around the hotel so we decide to check out "The Drag" (that's the shopping area to the north on Guadalupe at the University of Texas). If nothing else, there's a large Towers Record store there for Reg to hang out at. It's a hot sunny day so Jack, Kate and Cindy decided to walk up while Reg, with sore feet from his new shoes, and Doreta take a taxi to meet them.
The drag is pretty much the same as other years — the great record store, the outdoor market with tie-dye clothing, the UT Student Coop, etc. Kate and Cindy wander off in search of the elusive thongs to some Guatemalan or Nicaraguan store they had heard about and never materialized. but finding some old haunts north of the University. There's Antone's Record Store, the Hippy Store and the Natural Food Store (Wheatsville Coop). We all meet up and Kate and Doreta take a taxi back to the hotel while Reg, Jack and Cindy take a long leisurely walk. The walk takes them through the capital area where Reg notices a series of large skylights set in the ground behind the state capital legislature building (with it's high dome and bicameral house that only meets every two years). Further investigation leads us to a new section, the capital extension, which was finished in 1993 and is all underground. It's very beautiful, all pink marble inside, like many buildings in Austin. It was an interesting use of underground space while preserving green space above ground.
Back at the hotel everyone rests until it's time late in the afternoon to go to La Zona Rosa to see the Texana Dames and James McMurtry. It's located in the west end of downtown in what would count as a faded industrial area with the homeless in blankets and sleeping bags near one building. Again the plan is to have Doreta and Reg take a cab. They asked the doorman, actually the young boy, to call us a cab so he did, "You're a cab!" But the taxi didn't arrive very quickly and he asked where they were going. They told him and he said, "I'll drive you." So off they went, Doreta and Reg bundled in the hotel shuttle bus — we all could have gone in it. Kate, Cindy, and Jack walked the many blocks to the club and arrived about a half hour later.
La Zona Rosa is in a converted garage / warehouse; it's well off the main entertainment district on Pecan St. The old steel mesh fence around the club is decorated with hubcaps and assorted junk litters the yard. But it's quite neat inside — neat in the sense of "interesting", not neat as in "tidy". There's lots of brightly painted walls with the Mexican Day of the Death Motif: dancing skeletons, cactus, snakes, face masks, etc.
We had arrived a La Zona Rosa around 4:30 p.m. or so and were given pretty good seats near the back, but with a reasonable view, in the non-smoking section. The Texana Dames had already started playing and were really good. They played in eclectic mix of music: some old rock tunes, jazz, conjunto and country. Apparently, they've been here every Sunday for the last two years. The dames were formed in the late 1980's and consist of sisters Traci Lamar and Conni Hancock and their mother Charlene Hancock. The mom played a keyboard and the daughters played accordion and guitar. They all sang together. They also had some men accompany them on saxophone, drums, guitar and accordion. We really enjoyed their set, it's the kind of music we've come to Texas for and is much more to our liking than Megadeff at the Steamboat on Pecan the night before.
The food here is Tex/Mexican fair and really good — Reg had a truck stop enchilada and a beer to wash it down. Reg and Cindy ate large quantities of jalapenos with their dinners until the sweat was running down their faces and steam was coming out their ears. Cindy complained of "stomach problems" the next day. We took that as a euphemism for the "burning ring of fire". We also eat here again at the end of our trip during the "Emily Fest". Over the course of the trip Reg developed quite a taste for the hot stuff. And, probably because of the beer, enchiladas, and jalapenos, Kate says he has also developed killer farts that would drop a horse!
After a bit of the Texana Dames, Doreta got it into her head that we should move to another table in the smoking section even though there was already someone sitting there. She argues, "We should join him, he looks lonely, etc." None of us thought it was a better table, nor did we want to be in a smoking section, but Doreta was insistent. We ignored her pleading. Reg even forcefully switched seats with her as he had an obstructed view and was tired of her groosing. However, we did discern a reservation system taking place and spoke to the hostess who moved us later, before James McMurtry started, and we were put in a great spot with a much better view. The place really filled up — the entire inside bar was full of people standing. You would have had no view where Doreta had wanted us to move.
Marcia Ball (the New Orleans style piano player who, as it turns out, owns the club) introduced James McMurtry. She said that James is her favorite songwriter and she had always kept quiet about that around Butch Hancock until one day Butch told her that James McMurtry was also his favorite writer!
We had sort of guessed that Marcia Ball owned the club but later the fellow who runs the Gruene General Store confirmed that for us. He was admiring the La Zona Rosa T-shirt we were wearing. Kate had picked a green version while Reg had wanted the black one. We had flipped a coin and ended up with a lovely green one.
We were talking to him in Gruene and he asked if we'd ever seen the woman who owns the restaurant play. We ask, "Who's that?" and he replies "Marcia Ball!"
James McMurtry is a bearded young fellow and something of a waif (we have to mention his father Larry McMurtry who wrote "Lonesome Dove", "Terms of Endearment", "The Last Picture Show", and much more). He comes by his writing honestly.
A witticism from the men's room: "The problem when people believe in God is not that they believe in nothing, but they will believe in anything."
On the way back from the men's room Reg had approached James and said how much we enjoyed his music (Cindy's husband Pat had introduced us) and we were looking forward to his set. He seemed quite shy but did talk a bit — eg., "What part of Canada are you from?" In response to. "We're from Canada and have never seen you perform live". He tells Reg of playing a couple of times in Toronto but the last time was a "real bomb"; he was tired then and just not in the mood. Reg asked about London, "Yeah, I must have been through there on the way to Toronto ... where I bombed."
He's more of a struggling artist than anything else. Very self-effacing. But what a show! He can make a guitar sound like a full orchestra and writes really good tunes — rich stories of people, time and place. Country and folk music, at its best, tells a story and James is a good example of that tradition. He was performing solo here every Sunday in February with a "Works in Progress" title. He had released two albums already: "Too Long in the Wasteland" (1989) and "Candyland" (1992). These are albums we already have. The songs he was working on at the time became "Where'd You Hide the Body" (1995). We were familiar with his music and already fans,so it was a treat to see him live.
We enjoyed our time at La Zona Rosa so much that we came back later during our visit for the "Emily Fest". We had a good dinner, great seats, and a wonderful show for about $20 for all five of us. It was a good deal.
Monday, February 7th
On the way to the Magnolia, we drove around the Barton Springs area looking for a suitable motel for Thursday and Friday for our return to Austin but we didn't find one. We did spot a semi sleazy motel across the street from the Magnolia which Cindy and Kate went to check out. Cindy is fussy and has to approve our accommodation choices. The motel they looked at turned out to be very sleazy with a sign up saying "This area supervised by police" and fortunately, no decision was required as there was no vacancy. Cindy called the Omni hotel from the Magnolia and booked us back in for our return later in the week, much to her relief.
We arrived safely at our motel in San Antonio without getting lost or anything. We are staying at a Travelodge on Broadway close to the north branch of the River Walk and reasonably close to down town. It's cheap and convenient. Cindy and Doreta were somewhat appalled by the less than pristine décor and the minimal ambiance — it's a Travelodge motel and nothing like the posh Omni hotel back in Austin. But it's far better than the sleazy motel that Kate and Cindy had just checked out in Austin! Doreta was particularly unhappy since the room only had one queen size bed. Kate quickly remedied that by going to the front desk and getting Jack and Doreta moved to a different room. Everyone settled in.
While the Grahams / Quintons settled in and rested, Cindy, who was unable to stand for the hours and hours alone in that motel room (we told you she was fussy), walked downtown and was able to find "Texas Gunpowder" (dried jalapeno seasoning) for Pat for only $1.99 and rubber thongs (ie. sandals) for Kate for only $1 at the local Woolworths. Heck of a deal.
The gang of us met up at 5:00 p.m. and set out to meet Alison at 6:00 at the Menger Hotel ("It's stories of the Menger Hotel and the Alamo!" from "What I Like About Texas" by Gary P. Nunn). The Menger is gorgeous old downtown hotel, only a block from the Alamo, with a beautiful lobby, featuring a player piano, where we were to meet Alison. Kate and Reg took turns pretending to be concert pianists to the delight of several passersby.
Alison appeared at the appointed hour much to Kate's surprise — she had expected Alison to be early. We set off along the nearby Riverwalk to look for a restaurant that Alison had heard was quite good. The restaurant looked okay but they didn't have tables for six outside along the Riverwalk. Alison thought there was one further along with long wooden tables that we should try.
The place we ended up at is called "Dicks Last Resort / the Rowdy of the River". It lived up to its name. Patrons were seated at long tables and rolls of paper towel/newsprint are rolled in front of you as your plates. It's very much finger food with rustic/minimal presentation.
At another table one waitress was busy with a German couple fashioning balloons to resemble the male genitalia to the accompaniment of their guffaws of laughter.
After dinner, Jack and Doreta headed back to the hotel. Doreta was not feeling great because she ate a cheese omelet for breakfast at the Magnolia — we had warned her. The "kids" walked Alison back to her hotel to check it out and to have a drink with her in the bar. Her hotel is another Travelodge like ours but somewhat ritzier and to the south and west of the downtown, while ours is about the same distance but to the north and east. Both are on, or very near, the Riverwalk and quite convenient to the sights in downtown San Antonio.
Tuesday, February 8th
In the morning, Kate and Reg went to the AAA (the American Automobile Association) to replace their "Texas Tour Guide" — we are CAA (the Canadian Automobile Association) members and find these guides really helpful when travelling. We find you cannot survive without them (or at least they are very helpful at pointing out interesting sites and providing helpful ratings of motels, hotels and restaurants). We had left our guide at La Zona Rosa, back in Austin, during the excitement of the Texana Dames (actually it probably got left behind when we changed tables). We also went to a mall to find some sensible sandals and shorts. The weather today was a record hot for us, going to 87°F, so summer attire was required.
The San Antonio River by our hotel is pretty modest, a creek really, but very quickly shows the effects of damming. Along our part there's nothing commercial — it's just a pleasant walk. Near us, right on the river, is a Holiday Inn where BB King was staying (so we read). Out motel is a little ways from the river so sometimes we take the Riverwalk along the river and other times we walk at street level down Broadway. The Riverwalk is all along the San Antonio River with a loop that runs close to the Alamo and the Menger Hotel and a spur off the loop that runs to the Marriott River Center. From Alison's Travelodge Hotel on the river at the south end of the loop to our Travelodge Motel near the river well north of the loop is about a half an hour scenic Riverwalk. From our place to the Alamo and the Menger Hotel by Broadway is about a 15 minute walk.
We met up with Alison and Cindy at La Villata Historic Village — that's an old "Spanish" area along the southern part of the Riverwalk loop that we had never found in our wanderings other years. We had a nice Mexican lunch there and a few giggles. Most of the restaurants are in the Riverwalk loop by Boudro's, very near Commerce and Broadway. We return to Boudro's that evening for dinner.
That afternoon we walked to the Historic Market Square and Market Plaza (the area is "El Mercado") which is several blocks to the west of the downtown and Riverwalk area. This is yet another place we had never been to. It consists of about a two block area of covered markets, outdoor cafes, restaurants, and gift shops. We never saw any "market" shops in the sense of green grocers, or cheese shops, or meat shops, or fish shops, or the like. It's all dry goods, pottery, leather and gifts for tourists and visitors as in Juarez and Nuevo Laredo (but there's no bartering). There was one leather shop with bags, as in Mexico, but we didn't see any cowboy boots for Reg to regret not buying (as he had in previous cross border visits). He did buy a silver "concho" belt (he thinks that's the right word for it) with many round silver badges. That should go well with the silver toe tips for his cowboy boots. The "silver" is really just tin, but it's shiny like silver!
We had our dinner that night at Boudro's on the Riverwalk. Alison had heard that the food was good. It's an upscale seafood and steak house with moderate prices: $10-18 dollars for entrees. Cindy and Reg had one of Boudro's specialties: blackened prime rib which had been written up in Esquire magazine. The waiter said to Cindy, "You want it medium rare right?" Cindy said, "No, medium" hoping for it to be served "medium well". Kate gave her the evil eye — medium is the most they will serve a steak in a steak house like this. The meat servings are big at Boudro's. The smallest steak was 10 oz, while the largest was a 24 oz porterhouse. Our slice of blackened prime rib was around 16 oz!
Kate had a vegetable plate and shared with Cindy. Kate swapping burnt meat for healthy veggies. The vegetable plate was wonderful and, like most restaurants in these parts, was more food than one could eat. There were potatoes, zucchini, shredded squash, mushrooms and corn pudding. Everything was interestingly spiced with pepper, garlic and other spices.
Alison had a Caesar salad which was a full head of romaine with shredded parmesan and corn pudding on the side. Doreta had two small quail and Jack had some kind of gumbo and potato salad. The dinner was topped off with two bottles of Llano Estacado (Texas wine) and Reg had a bread pudding soaked in Jack Daniel's sauce. It's sort of a caramel sauce and very good.
The waiter, a youngish fellow, had suggested appetizers but fortunately we declined. The dinners were very tasty and very large. He also kept telling people what they wanted, even if they didn't, e.g. "You want medium rare, right?" as noted above.
Jack and Doreta cut out early and headed back to bed right after dinner; they were exhausted from all the jocularity. The youngsters hung around the restaurant for a while and then walked Alison home. Along the Riverwalk loop, near La Villita Historic Village and Boudro's restaurant, is the Arneson River Theatre (built in 1939, an open-air stage that hosts riverfront performances from dance to music and opera) and the quaint stone Rosita's bridge that crosses over to the theatre. It's a lovely spot with the stage on one side of the river and tiered seats set in stone on the other side. Tour boats come by periodically interrupting the show.
When we were escorting Alison home, the girls wanted to pose for pictures on this stage doing a drunken Can-Can for Canadian content. To get to the stage Kate thought they'd have to climb over a fence at Rosita's bridge. Cindy says, "Why don't we try the gate?" Which they did — and it was open! Climbing down from the brick wall Kate fell and banged her leg. She blames the misadventure on her new sandals but it might have been the Llano Estacado Chardonnay.
After dropping Alison off at her hotel the crew hobbled home along the Riverwalk. They were also exhausted from the full day of explorations, particularly Cindy, who "hadn't slept a wink" the night before. Kate limped home after her fall (cf. the mishap at the the River Theatre is noted above). We got her home to bed, gave her some Anaprox (for the pain and swelling) and put some ice on her leg but the next day she did a Dodge City routine — she limped around like Chester from the Gunsmoke TV series.
It was a rather full day exploring San Antonio and we got to see several sites we had missed on previous visits. And we had only one non-fatal injury!
Wednesday, February 9th
When we went to bed last night it was a very warm, over 70°F and quite humid. At 7:30 a.m. this morning it was still warm but by 8:00 a.m. a "Blue Norther" had arrived and the temperature had quickly plummeted from 68° to 48°F; by noon it was down to 42°F with a wind chill of 29°F. And it's supposed to snow and/or sleet later on today! We've now seen the dramatic changes of the Texas weather the sing about ("They say in Texas the weather's always changin'" from "Fort Worth Blues" by Guy Clark).In the morning Reg, Cindy and Kate went to the San Antonio Museum of Art. The museum is in the old Lone Star Brewery (aka the National Beer of Texas) and it's just up the river from our motel. The Pearl Brewery (another Texas favorite) is on the river as well, a little further north and across the expressway. The river runs between them, but it's just a tiny creek.
It turns out that Lone Star beer is still brewed in San Antonio, although this location has been shut down and turned into a Gallery/Museum. We guess the national beer of Texas is brewed in several places (we discover many years later that there was another location along the river at "Lone Star Blvd" further south along the river).
Together we six (Jack & Doreta, Kate & Reg, Cindy & Alison) drive out of town to the village of Bracken to find the "Hanging Tree Saloon". Bracken is a small village just out San Antonio, near Gruene/New Braunfels, with a saloon, a food joint that is not the saloon, a farm supply / train station, a barbershop ("The Best Little Hair House in Texas"), and several modest homes.
Back in Bracken, the saloon serves beer. And that's all. There's a shitload of pickup trucks parked outside. The garbage can in front of the saloon is filled with beer tins and empty whiskey bottles (several 40 oz Canadian mist bottles). It looks like Reg's kind of place. However, the rest of the gang doesn't drink beer, they find the saloon a bit smoky (it is very smoky), and we all stand out as tourists. The girls tell Reg his outfit is too "preppy" for this bar, although he is wearing his concho belt under his sweater. So we decide to leave and are told, "Y'all come back now!" This is not the Texas we were looking for so we continue on to search for a mall.
At the mall Alison and Cindy have bought some nice sneakers. Jack has blown a wad — on hearing aid batteries. Doreta returns and she's bought sneakers too! The record stores in the mall are just boring. Cindy says she wants something that isn't tight around the waist and keeps her thighs from rubbing together — Reg suggests a horse as there's several horse statues around the mall.
We're at Landry's Seafood for dinner that evening. We came here years ago on Pat's tab but tonight we're on our own. It's near the Marriott and the convention center and located in the ground floor of a gigantice and new parking garage. Landry's is a Texas chain in about 12 cities, some places we've never heard of. But the AAA Texas Tourist Guide recommends it with glowing adjectives that describe the food. They specialize in seafood including raw oysters (no thanks) and crawdads (i.e. crayfish). The interior is as we remember from our first trip here in 1990 — the décor has lots of old neon, enamel signs, tin press ceiling panels, bare brick, etc. This explains why we were looking for a brick building rather than a newish concrete brutalism building.
Landry's proved to be one for the books for several reasons. First was the very cute bartender who Kate and Cindy fancied. Second, was the wait. When we got to the restaurant we were told there would be a table for us in the non-smoking section in 5 to 10 minutes and "Could we wait at the bar?" Jack springs for the first round at the bar until we figure out the deal — the bartender will run a tab and transfer it to our meal cheque if he can hold a credit card. Half an hour later we were still waiting and discussing Kate's bartending days and Kate and Cindy's waitressing days. Doreta was getting a bit hungry and edgy and there was still no sign of us being seated as the table selected for us was still occupied by the people schmoozing after paying their bill. Finally, Reg had to play the role of the unsatisfied customer and bitch again to the maitre de. Someone had the brainwave of pushing two empty four-seater tables in the non-smoking section together and we got seated. Our waiter was a very sweet Hispanic fellow who tried to apologize and explain what happened but in a language/accent that was indecipherable by us all.
The dinner turned out to be only okay; although Kate thought hers was very good. Reg had 2 lb of crawdads (they are seasonal and when in Rome ...), Kate & Cindy their usual Gulf Shrimp, Kate had catfish as well, while Jack and Doreta had their usual chicken. We are a predictable bunch. The dinner was good value — only $75 for the five of us with some beers and a bottle of wine. Doreta enjoyed the wine but it was not to our liking. After dinner Reg wanted to go to a Tejano bar he had read about and drive out on San Pedro but since we didn't finish dinner until almost 10:30, we called it a night.
Thursday, February 10th
Our plan is to return to Austin and to see Meredith Miller tonight at the Chicago House but since the weather to the north is bad, there's no need to hurry. Perhaps it will clear as the day warms up. We go to the Natural Bridge Caverns instead — it's inside and out of the rain! The caverns are in the hill country about 30 miles north of San Antonio, below Canyon Lake, a hop and a skip from the beautiful Bracken home of the "Hanging Tree Saloon" or the "Gruene Hall" of Gruene/New Braunfels.
Alison had gone there earlier on this visit with her old school chum and gives us a glowing report. Reg has been whining for years about these Texas Caverns as there are several in the area and all are well advertised. He swears he's missed going to this cavern about a dozen times on drives back and forth between Austin and San Antonio! The weather at other times has always been too warm to even think about hiding out in a cave but today is the exception; which means we can. Alison has warned us that the cave will be hot and sweaty as the humidity is high at around 99%, the temperature moderate at around 70°F, and the climb out quite strenuous — she never mentioned that last part but she ought to have!
We easily find our way there and arrive in plenty of time for the 12:00 tour. While we wait for our tour at the gift shop Reg buys silver button covers at $2 each (to complement the concho belt and silver toe tips for his cowboy boots). Kate is concerned that Reg's new found flare for clothes and accessories may be a sign of "another woman"! He assures her that there's nothing of that kind going on, especially in Texas. Cindy tells her that Wendy XXX's first indication that Brian was getting it elsewhere was a similar preoccupation with clothes. Since there's no radical change in style, as was the case with Brian, we may safely assume there is no other woman. Having said all that, Reg feels it sure is nice to be getting all this attention!
The caves are quite dramatic with about four or five large chambers. We rapidly descend on a winding trail to some 180 feet underground with a similar steep rapid ascent at the other end. It's tough going, especially with the very high humidity. Jack and Doreta survive well enough but not without lots of moaning and groaning on the way. The caves are quite pristine as they were only first discovered in the 1960s by spelunkers from St Mary's University in San Antonio. Bills have been enacted to protect these and other caves from vandalism and exploitation — silly people collect fragments but these days get heavy fines.
The trail through the caves gets you very close to lots of formations and some grand overlooks. One part is a long narrow walkway on the side of a sheer drop. It's a bit scary. The stalagmites (G for ground, they might reach the ceiling) and stalactites (C for ceiling, they hold tight to the ceiling) are very impressive and modestly lit without colored lights. You had to be there. Suffice to say, it was an adventure and well worth it.
The Hill country is quite pretty with ice covered trees even by early afternoon when we leave the caverns. But the roads are clear and it's a short trip north to Austin. We avoid the San Marcos factory outlets on the IH35 but do hit a drive through beer store. In Austin it's still icy and remains so for the day and the next until it starts to warm up.
We check in at the Omni, where we had first stayed, and then head out for a laundry expedition. We know of one north on Guadalupe in a mall by Antones, our favorite liquor store and the hippie store. Jack and Doreta have some quiet time with each other as we three tend to this task. Reg is out of undies and socks so too are Kate and Cindy. Kate is feeling exhausted but toughs it out.
We returned from our laundry expedition via La Zona Rosa where we stop to get tickets for the "Emily Fest" on Sunday. It's a tribute concert for Emily Kaitz, a popular singer/song writer, who is moving away.... back to Arkansas we think. Speaking of tickets. While returning from La Zona Rosa, recall that it's in a faded industrial area, we meet the local constabulary while driving on quiet, empty back streets. Kate and Cindy are stretched out, tired, and recovering from the previous night's adventures. The experience went like this:
Reg had driven through one stop sign without blinking an eye. Kate noticed a second stop sign from her semi-prone position in the front seat and shrieked, "Stop sign!" Reg jammed on the brakes and came to a sudden abrupt stop. At that moment Cindy looked behind and noticed the police car with its lights flashing. Cindy says, "He might have run a second stop sign if Kate hadn't shouted out"; she thinks he got off lightly. Reg says, "Nobody got killed or worse so they should all be grateful."
Fortunately Reg was sober or it could have been really nasty. As it was the policeman was quite nice. We're sure he did miss one sign, although on the ticket it says he was doing one plus miles per hour, so perhaps he only rolled through a stop sign rather than ran a stop sign. The ticket comes with a $70 fine, which is not too frightening. Reg explains that we're tourists and not from Texas, how do we deal with this ticket?
Doreta wanted to pay the fine for Reg but Cindy kept saying, "How will he ever learn, if you keep bailing him out?" Thanks Cindy.
That evening we have dinner at the nearby Driskill hotel — white tablecloth and brown gravy rather than vice versa. It's just kitty corner from out hotel and a change from the greasy spoons where we've been hanging out. It's all courtesy of Jack and Doreta so we should have all ordered doubles. The waiter and maître de are very friendly and make us feel quite at home in spite of our modest dress (jeans and T-shirts). They're used to folks like us (cf. "Staying Up All Night In The Driskill Hotel" by Guy Clark). We have lots of laughs, especially when we spot what we take to be a cockroach on the ceiling! It turns out to be some electric wiring poking through and not a cockroach.
Kate adds a postscript: she's certain that it was a cockroach.
Friday, February 11th
The morning is spent with everyone on their own with plans to meet for lunch in the Ancho restaurant in our hotel's lobby (we're at the Omni again). Kate spent the morning sleeping, reading and resting. Reg chased around the Austin judiciary trying to pay his traffic ticket — they wouldn't take his cash at the court house because his offense wasn't on the computer yet. So he had to find a post office, buy a mail order check, and mail it to the court. Cindy, Jack and Doreta strolled around town shopping and checking out the stores.
The lunch at the Omni/Ancho restaurant was very good and we had our same waiter from the breakfast the other day (he of the tax on gasoline and healthcare conversations). It turns out he belongs to AA (i.e. he's a "friend of Bill") which might explain some things. Reg once more tried to find the elusive World's Best Chicken Fried Steak, Cindy had Tex/Mex, Jack had the buffet, and Doreta ordered a turkey sandwich which came with a wonderful Texas-sized basket of French Fries. We all chipped in to help her with the chips, the portions are huge in Texas. The wine menu posted three chardonnays by the glass — Kate and Cindy each ordered a different one hoping to compare them. However, our AA waiter, who seems to have taken a shine to the girls, brought them both the $5.50 wine; only charging them for the $3.50 version!
Following lunch at the Omni, we five piled into the car to do some more shopping and sightseeing. First stop (again!) was Waterloo Records on Lamar where we were able to find some more music on our lists — Waterloo Record seems to have a larger collection of obscure and local music than Tower Records. But they're both really good stores for collectors like Pat and Reg. Next stop is the "drag" for Jack and Doreta to get their booze to take home (from our favorite store just north of campus by Antone's Record store), for Cindy to exchange her tie dyed T-shirt at the outdoor market and for Kate and Cindy to buy more stuff for themselves and surprises for Reg's birthday at the UT Campus Co-op.
"Treaty Oak", where treaties with the natives were signed, is very near Waterloo Records. We stopped for a peek on our way to Barton Spring. The tree is over 600 years old and was almost lost in 1989 when it was poisoned by someone. Why would anyone do that? The AAA Texas Tour Guide Book says well wishers still offer the tree gifts and prayers. We then set off for the "sacred waters" of Barton Springs (it's described that way in "What I Like About Texas" by Gary P Nunn).
From Barton Springs we traveled along Lake Austin (there's Town Lake, then another dam upstream for Lake Austin, further on there's another dam for Lake Travis) past palatial homes set on rolling hills to Mount Bonnell where if you climb approximately 100 steps, "There's no finer panorama of Lake Austin and the oak studded Texas Hill country " (from Austin Visitor's Guide). We did climb those many stone steps, Doreta did so under protest, and the view was pretty good although some would argue that the "going up wasn't worth the coming down" (from "Sunday Morning Coming Down" by Kris Kristofferson).
By this time it's around 5:00 p.m. and we're getting hungry and want to get back to the hotel in time to eat something and then get to "Esther's Follies" (a few blocks away on Pecan St) around 7:15 to get our tickets for the 8:00pm comedy show. Naturally we end up in Austin's rush hour searching for a HEB or any other grocery store. The plan is to grab some bread, cheese, cold cuts, etc. at a supermarket. Then have a snack and a drink together in our room, rather than going out to another expensive restaurant for dinner. To make a long story short, we found out why Texas women are so thin — there are no grocery stores! Actually there are, we just didn't find one.
We did make it back to the Omni, and Kate and Cindy bought a strange assortment of delicacies at the local variety store on 6th Street — bread, ham, mustard, peanut butter, and salsa (reminds us of "diet pills, potato chips and gin" from Tom Russell's "Hurricane Season"). This is the same variety store that can no longer sell beer, where the Police hang out to make sure that no beer is sold, and where Cindy learns that you're not supposed to walk the streets with a screwdriver. The police ask her, "Excuse me miss, any alcohol in those drinks?" Cindy and Kate were told that you can't have that here and you can't have it on the street either. Cindy and Kate are older respectable tourist types and weren't charged — but they could have been charged with a misdemeanor! There's also a sign on the wall to inform one and all that it's a real serious bang-up go to jail crime to be, "Carrying a gun in place that sells beer or alcohol". Fortunately the store had lost their beer license and we had no guns. But it sure makes you wonder — are there a lot of guys carrying guns on Pecan Street?
The show starts early with the piano player, some introductions, a few songs and then a terrific juggler/magician. Following that it's fast paced music, dancing, comedy and political satire presented in skit after skit. They're all very funny skits with many local topical political references. And there are some pointed jabs to the Texas Democratic Women to their delight. Even not understanding all the politics, the show is quite funny. During the 5-minute intermission Kate and Cindy went to the restroom and got the scoop from other women in line about some of the Texas scandals referred to in the skits. Hurrying back from their bathroom visit they discover that the show has already started with about 10 more hilarious skits.
The highlight for Jack was when a particularly voluptuous female actor dressed in black with huge breasts and tassels came off the stage and started talking to various men in the audience. She made Jack stand up and asked him what he did. He said, "I don't." and she quickly replies, "Just like our city councilors!" She flirted some more with Jack and got him to do some tongue wiggling with her.
There were lots of references to the 1993 Lorena & John Bobbitt case — she had cut off her husband's penis while he slept. One of the women tried to hack off Reg's head (thankfully not his dick as) part of one skit.
One political skit had a character playing Mary Kay (of Mary Kay Cosmetics). We learned from the gals in line for the restroom that this was about a local senator named Kay Hutchison who had been charged with some treasury boondoggle and had just been acquitted that day. Jack's voluptuous friend played Ann Richards (the current Democratic governor) in the skit and she apparently is a major enemy of Kay Hutchison (portrayed as Mary Kay Cosmetics). Kate recalls that Ann Richards was actually there with the Texas Democratic Women.
Saturday, February 12th
Well I know a man that cooks armadilloTastes so sweet, he called it pieI know a woman makes pan DulceTastes so good, it gets you high
We arrive in Fredericksburg around noon and book into the same "Save-Inn" with the same wallpaper murals behind the beds. There's a barbecue joint next door and Kate's being craving it for a year — it was closed for cleaning last year when we were here on our Phoenix/Austin trip. Everyone fills up on BBQ remembering the rather light beans and sausage fare at Big Daddy's in Luckenbach. After lunch Cindy and Doreta head for the stores — Cindy just to look, Doreta to shop and buy pecans. Reg also buys pecans for Kate who is resting back at the motel. By 2:30 we're on the road to nearby Luckenbach for the Hug-In; it's close, only 15 minutes away.
What's it like in Luckenbach on a Saturday Hug-In? Well, it gets busier and more commercial every year. It's still pretty neat, but there are fewer pickers and grinners when we arrive and more entrepreneurs. We arrived at around 3:00 p.m. and it was already busy. There are lots of cars, bikers, campers, BBQ smokers, dogs and kids. Big Daddy's is gone replaced by the "Luckenbach Feedlot (established 1993)" which serves a a larger variety of food than Big Daddy's (who only served beans, sausage, beans and sausage, beans and sausage with bread, etc.). However, when we arrive the next day hoping for some lunch (i.e. on the Sunday), all they had left was beans or chili!
Postscript: by 2020 they took tickets at the gate, checked to make sure you weren't bringing any booze, and hordes of people were arriving in tour buses!
The camp ground across the South Grape Creek (with the prominent "NO CAMPING" sign) is busy with campers, pickers and grinners. The old cotton mill is still standing and a lot of folks are gathered there. There's a smoker/BBQ going and the smell of mesquite and smoked brisket fills the air. It's hopping and there seems to be more music over here — Kate suggests that next year we should bring our pup tent but no, Cindy can't sleep with us! It's a safe bet as Cindy is not keen to camp out anywhere/anytime — especially here, given the long walk across the creek to find the crappy little washroom at 3:00 a.m. So we'll have no plans to ever camp at Luckenbach, thank you very much!
There's lots of people at the Hug-In, and although they may all be tourists, they sure look Texan. The store is the same with some new postcards. There's a guy selling salsa, koozies and jalapeno jelly which we got for Pat. He later tells us, after commenting on how "hairy" a dog is that goes by, that fur doesn't grow like hair does, and that cats have hair not fur. No we've heard something similar about poodles for people with allergies, but this guy seems to be running the argument too far.
Kate was mistaken, yet again, for a local — "You must be from Texas." Reg thinks it's just fellows sweet talking the ladies and fortunately he was there at the time to remind her of her nearby faithful hubby. People sure are friendly though. We met the sweet talker at his camp fire over in the campgrounds (a day later our clothes all smell of mesquite smoke). He'd been down since Thursday camping out. He told us that he's lived all over the southwest including Arizona, he was born in Louisiana, but now lives and loves to be here in Texas because, as he puts it, "Texas bites you in the ass".
That evening is the highlight of our visit — no, not the dance, the small bar in the general store! Inside the store it's like this: there's an L-shaped bar with a small bench on one side, there's a wood stove in the middle, a couple of very small tables, with a couple of benches beside them, a few chairs and the two exits to outside and one exit into the general store. At most the interior dimensions, not counting the bar, would be about a 15 ft square with the wood stove taking up much of that space. The two tiny tables are big enough for checkers but too small for cards. There's perhaps six chairs. And what seems to be about 200 people laughing, drinking and singing. Three, sometimes four, pickers/violins, are singing songs we can join in on: e.g., Robert Earl Keen "(I never could stay sober on) Corpus Christi Bay" and of course, "Home With the Armadillo (London Homesick Blues)" by Gary P Nunn.
The Canadian gang are parked right up front and sang along with the worst of them. Reg tried several times to get people to play "I'll Be Your San Antone Rose" (written by Susanna Clark) so that Kate could sing along. She promised to kill him if they did. Fortunately there's a 5-day waiting period for gun purchases so it was only an idle threat.
The band scheduled for the dance hall at 9:00 is very loud and mostly rock. We said no thanks and headed home shortly after the band started and the pickers and grinners were encouraged to leave the bar/general store for the dance. Cindy drove us back, as planned. Reg was so drunk he could hardly stand and would not have survived much longer. We needed to have Mike there to give us our second wind. Jack and Doreta stayed sober and hung out to the bitter end, they seemed to enjoy themselves. Cindy and Reg had a late snack at 9:45 in Fredericksburg (or at least so she tells him).
The scheduled music at the dance hall was a bit of a bummer given that Guy Clark, Robert Earl Keen, Gary P Nunn Jerry Jeff Walker and other folk seem to play with some regularity. There are scheduled dances about twice a month now. Again we missed Leon Russell at the dance hall in Gruene and Gary P Nunn at the Broken Spoke. But it's always magical in Luckenbach and it was again this year. But this year we're going to stay another day to see what Sunday is like.
We have seen the "Hug-In" is described elsewhere as a Bacchanal — that's probably way too literary. It's just a bunch of folk having fun, chatting, singing songs and generally getting pissed. There's a lot of beer involved and not much wine as one would expect at a Bacchanal!
Sunday, February 13th
Ah, for just one time I would take the Northwest PassageTo find the hand of Franklin reaching for the Beaufort Sea
Frank Hill tells us he's working on a new tape, the one he had, which we bought, was from 1988. He also had a song book which we purchased. He was generally pleased to know that we enjoyed this music. And we did. We gave him our address for his mailing list – "If you're ever in London, look us up."
Jack and Doreta sat in the sun all afternoon listening to the pickers at the storefront – Frank Hill (as mentioned, also famous for a song about pissing and thereby replenishing the aquifer), Ray Austin who we've seen many times, the fellow with glasses who wrote/sings "It's Always Magical in Luckenbach", Jimmy Lee Jones (he of the large hat and long hair, good looking if you like that type) and others who wander in. Jimmie Lee Jones has the tallest hat with the deepest crease and a beaded headband. He's a ruggedly handsome type with the longest hair. We bought a tape of his.
Kate overheard this funny conversation in the small bar of the general store: "[someone] is a better fiddler than he is a drunk". The other cowpokes at the table have a chuckle at that, there's a pause, and then another cowpoke says, "He's a pretty good drunk though!" Quite the humorists.
Slim also told us how Jerry Jeff Walker was always incredibly stoned back then. "His eyes looked right through you. It was very spooky". Slim told us a story about the recording of Jerry Jeff's "Viva Terlingua" at the Luckenbach dancehall back in the early 1970s. Apparently they got all these bales of hay to decorate the place and as soundproofing. Unfortunately the next day everyone was scratching and itching — the hay bales had "chiggers" camping out in them! Well, we've never met a chigger but it doesn't sound like a like you'd want to.
Finally, from Slim and his wife, we determine how Texans learn how to dance. We thought it was a natural ability and everyone in Texas knows how to dance from birth if not earlier. However, like every else you know, it's not natural — they have to go to dance classes at the local Community College to learn the two-step. Slim couldn't dance a step when he got married but went to classes and now cuts a mean figure on the dance floor. The only problem, and they've learned to live with it, is Slim tends to add his own flourishes and courtesies when he's had a few beers. And we had thought Texans were born knowing how to dance.
Marge, who we have mentioned, is a Luckenbach regular and the bartender. She is 65 years old, has a weathered long face, white equally weathered rattlesnake earrings, and long braided hair. She's pictured behind the bar on the Chris Wall CD "No Sweat" that we bought on this trip. We note that she's one of the few women who are integral to the scene. It's mostly guys here with long hair to hide their rednecks.
Sunday night, the Emily Fest at La Zona Rosa.
We get back to Austin in time for the Emily Kaitz tribute — and it's interesting that they're having a tribute as she's not even dead yet! She's only moving out of Austin and back to Arkansas, but she's left a mark here in Austin.
We had bought one of her tapes earlier at Waterloo Records but after the show we are wishing we had bought more. e.g., "The M-word Scares The F-word Out of Me" is sung by one of the several girl groups that night (the "Cow Pattys" or the "Therapy Sisters"). That song is on the tape we have but there are some four or five tapes we didn't buy. Fortunately they're all listed in the Waterloo Records mail order catalogue we got for Pat (the catalogue also has Richard Dobson and Eliza Gilkyson who Pat has us searching record stores for).
The show started with the "Fun Brothers" from Tennessee who did "Shallow End of the Gene Pool". This is a very popular song and their rendition was the first of three that night! They were okay but not really captivating. Next came Dick Price who sang "The Golden Calf" which was quite good. We weren't able to get the names of all the performers but the first act that really impressed us was Melissa something on keyboard, who was backed up by "Trout Fishing in America" although we didn't recognize them then and only learned who they were later. She did "Middle Aged Rock and Rollers Are So Damn Cute" and one about "The Whore Called Jolly Louise". Next came the "Therapy Sisters" ("Don't You Want A Love That's Real" and "Jaywalking") who were very neat. We saw them years later at Patsy's Cowgirl Cafe. They were followed by other very good female singers — Chris Barnes (who Kate especially liked) and Gail Lewis ("My Backyard"). Next came those crazy guys, the Austin Lounge Lizards — they did "A Hard Dick Has No Conscience. That's Why I'm Here With You!". Next up was Don McAllister; then Christine Albert who had a great voice in the Emmylou Harris Style. She is scheduled to be telecast on Austin city limits on April 2nd.
Probably the wackiest and most fun group of the evening was the "Cow Pattys". They're all called Patty in various joking contexts. They did the "The M-word Scares The F-word Out of Me" and an incredible version of "Shallow End of the Gene Pool".
I'm gonna change my name to Emily RefrigeratorSo I can be a Household word.
Monday, February 14th
Jack and Doreta were perfect angels, hanging on to Cindy's coat tails. On their way over to the airport, the shuttle driver told them that the best grocery store in Austin, e.g., it has 17 different kinds of mustard, is just North of the university at 38th and Lamar (that would be the "Central Market"). So people do eat in Texas, if they can find the grocery store. She got Jack and Doreta checked in and they were soon settled in enjoying an airport breakfast. Kate and Reg arrived shortly afterwards and all boarding passes this time were low numbers and would be the first called for boarding (unlike our hectic "last to arrive" adventures in Detroit).
The crew in this return flight are all much different from those on the way down, e.g., the stewardesses are quite made up, almost "Barbie Dolls" with uniforms, but they do wear flats. Everyone is very pleasant (although Kate was brought Bloody Marys mix when she had ordered a Bloody Mary drink). There wasn't as much humor from them, though at Houston they announced, "If you're going to Houston, get off now!" Our theory is that maybe they only fool around on Saturday since both crews we had on the way here were jolly jokesters. As usual we are offered junk food after every takeoff and free soft drinks but there wasn't any free wine, beer or liquor.
In Detroit Southwest operated with its usual efficiency. We landed on time and the baggage was on the carousel almost before we had walked over to it. Reg went to get the car which was clean, not a drop of snow. Kate won a bet — all the luggage, including all our souvenirs and such bought on the trip, fit into their Escort station wagon! And so did we five tired travelers. Our last stop, before crossing back to Canada, is the US duty free store. This is much to Cindy's chagrin as she was feeling a bit home sick and wanted to be quickly on the road. Doreta wanted some Royal Dalton figurine for Bill and Sandy (who don't really like them). Anyway there were no figurines, but very cheap double vodka. We should have waited to get that here rather than stocking up in Austin.
The next stop is Canadian Customs and Immigration where we had decided that Reg and Cindy should probably make the $300 declarations if pressed, but the woman on duty obviously couldn't be bothered and pushed us through without worrying at all about all the gifts, booze and souvenirs we had with us. In Canada, Kate and Cindy rummaged in the luggage, found Kate's double vodka and poured themselves large drinks necessitating two pee stops before we got Cindy home before 8:00 p.m.
P.s. Wednesday at work, Kate and Cindy received beautiful plant baskets from Doreta and Jack thanking them for looking after them on this whirl wind vacation. They seemed to have enjoyed themselves. Real troopers actually!
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