Frying Pan or Fire

Linda Burton posting from Phoenix, Arizona — The Little Pigs Wolf came out of the fairy tale to huff and puff and howl all night, wind screaming through the cracks around the door. It was cold and the air was restless and fearful. Alex Cat took refuge in a dresser drawer; Jack Cat burrowed under the covers beside me. I did not sleep. A weather front was coming through, sweeping in from California, threatening Arizona with vicious winds, pounding rain, and if you were above two thousand feet, snow. Sierra Vista sits at 4,200 feet, Tucson 2,500. This was scheduled as a driving day, the reservation in place for Phoenix tonight. Last night I’d decided to delay, to wait for the weather to clear, to stay off the roads and sit safely in my room. But the relentless noise had turned me into a bundle of nerves. I asked myself: is the fire really worse than the frying pan? There is equal misery in either one. What to do? Outside, it wasn’t raining yet, but trees were bending sideways in the wind. I chose fire. In 30 minutes we were in the car. » read more

St Paddy’s with the Red White and Blue

Linda Burton posting from Sierra Vista, Arizona while traveling from Austin, Texas to Phoenix, Arizona — I have a grandson in the US Army. Brett is tall, good-looking, smart, and someone you’d be proud to know. He’s adapted well to Army life; is excited about the opportunities ahead. He did his basic at Fort Jackson in South Carolina, and now is posted to Fort Huachuca in southern Arizona for most of this year. I detoured my Austin-to-Phoenix route to pay him a visit.

Fort Huachuca is home of the U.S. Army Intelligence Center and the U.S. Army Network Enterprise Technology Command (NETCOM)/9th Army Signal Command. It’s also the headquarters of the Military Affiliate Radio System (MARS), the Joint Interoperability Test Command (JITC), and the Electronic Proving Ground (EPG).

Sounds confidential, and it is. Brett already has “a bunch of” security clearances, and couldn’t tell me much about the things he’s learning there. The base is 15 miles north of the Mexican border, adjacent to the town of Sierra Vista, at the foot of the Huachuca Mountains. “Huachuca” comes from an obscure Indian language describing a “place of thunder.” There was a light dusting of snow still visible on the north side of the mountains when I arrived. The winds were strong and more snow was, maybe, on the way.

I picked up Brett at his “dorm” – he shares a room, it’s much like college life, he said. He showed me his classrooms, the family housing where some of his friends live, the on-base elementary school, the ball fields and batting cages, the commissary, even the dental office. It’s self-contained and neat, pretty in its sparseness. And though it is miles and miles from most of the world, it’s not too far from I-HOP, Texas Roadhouse, the Cineplex, and Sierra Vista’s mall.

A stop by my room to visit the cats (Brett gave Jack to me when he was so tiny he fit in our hands, the only male of Cleo’s litter), then we celebrated St Paddy’s Day with Roadhouse steaks. After-dinner shopping at the mall resulted in a suit, a handsome pin-stripe gray, blue shirt to set it off, not for any special occasion but because, Brett said, “Sometimes you just want to look nice.”

Brett pointed out the Buffalo Soldiers on a sign, telling me a little of the history of the Fort. A product of the Indian Wars of the 1870s and 1880s, the site was selected because it had fresh running water, an abundance of trees, excellent observation in three directions, and protective high ground for security against Apache tactical methods.

Camp Huachuca was redesignated a fort in 1882. It was a supply base for the Geronimo campaign, retained after his surrender because of continuing border troubles. In 1913, the 10th Cavalry “Buffalo Soldiers” arrived, joining General John J. Pershing in the 1916 expedition into Mexico. During World War I, it was assigned the mission of guarding the United-States-Mexico border. Today, its training and purpose focus on borders stretching all around the world.

Lots more on the interesting history of Fort Huachuca and its mission today, read at http://www.huachuca.army.mil/site/Visitor/index.asp?pages=History

Times Three

Linda Burton posting from Sierra Vista, Arizona while traveling from Austin, Texas to Phoenix, Arizona— I wake up on Central Daylight Time. Bright sun shadows the face of the Sierra Diablos across the street. The car is loaded by 7:23; I see I’m almost out of gas. One stop, and then we’re on the road. An elevation climb, my ears can feel the pressure change, we’re going through a pass. A sign announces “Mountain Time.” I’ve gained an hour. But I’m still in Texas, will be for a long, long while. The limit is 80 mph, I do not hesitate, I fly.

The Eagle Mountains to my left, the Quitman’s too; the Finlay’s to my right. Peaks are 7,000 feet, wide valleys flatten out between. The GPS begins to show a darkened spot, a thick line very near the little car that mimics me. I stop and check the map; yes, Mexico is just there to my left, I know the Rio Grande is flowing there, the border mark.

Traffic thickens, El Paso drawing near, with Juarez on the other side, a troubled city, always in the news. Murder Capital of the World, they say. I need more gas, but everything is tense, so many lanes, so many curves, I wait, to come out on the other side. A break somewhere past the UTEP sign, a gorgeous mall, set high up in the hills. I’ve been driving for a long, long time.

And then I’m in New Mexico. The pavement changes, smooth, the lanes are wide, a sign assures you of a safety zone. Enchanted land, brilliant color, yellow flowers blooming in white sands. The Continental Divide! I stop to get a picture, close, I was here so many years ago, when kids were young. Now I have cats. Jack yawns in boredom, a wild-eyed panther look. “We’re really in the west,” I say, “where you were born.” There is nothing anywhere but souvenirs; gas is 20 miles ahead, they say. Los Cruces is a US Customs stop; the Border Dog doesn’t sniff my car.

Keep driving. Arizona next. The road looks old, worn out. I gain another hour. No sign announces, but I know, Arizona doesn’t favor Daylight time. Three time zones in one day for me. The headwind pushes back against the car; the freeway signs flash “Dust storms just ahead, pull off the road when you can’t see.” In the distance I see swirls, I am gone before they get to me.

I’m tired. I want to stop. Nature take some pity then, rewards me with its awesome sights; Texas Canyon has huge boulders like I’ve never seen. I know that I can make it now, and sure enough, the sign appears where I’m supposed to turn. I’m headed southward now, where family waits for me.

All’s well, except I’m not quite sure what time it is.

By The Time I Get To Phoenix

Linda Burton posting from Van Horn, Texas while traveling from Austin, Texas to Phoenix, Arizona – Streets and Trips tells me Phoenix is 1099.7 miles away. The next capital city, the longest drive of the entire Journey Across America, and I’m not even packed. Glen Campbell’s song floats in my head, I’m sorry that I have to miss his show at Austin Rodeo this weekend, his farewell tour. http://www.rodeoaustin.com/

But it’s time to go. Goodbye Austin, your live oak trees, your live music everywhere, your barbecue; goodbye good-time place. The clock says past 11 before we’re on our way, with half of Texas to cross before tonight. I skirt the city, loop through the suburban hills, the cedar trees and limestone cuts; finally hit the road to Fredericksburg.

I had a birthday there in 1999, ate at Mamacita’s, http://www.mamacitas.com/fredericksburg.html where waitstaff sang to me in big sombrero hats. No time to stop today, just drive on through this destination town, it teems with spring-break families; Hot Dingo’s parking spots are packed with Texas tags.

Away from people now, I pay attention to the trees. Trees shading cows, trees standing over rocks and cactus plants, trees quirked and crooked in strange survival shapes. Each should have a website of its own, I think! And then I get to flat. It’s dry and sparse, nothing here to stop the wind.

I’m needing gas, one lone station near an oil-well pump, so desolate it doesn’t even advertise its brand, or price. A fancy van is stopped in front of me. Four women slowly chat their way inside, lone man left standing by the pump. He waits; I guess they didn’t pay, just walked around inside, or took a potty break. The lone man rolls his eyes and shakes his head; mime-faces an apology to me.

The women saunter out, still haven’t paid, the man is gesturing, one ambles back inside, the others talk, and piddle, leaning on the van.  Finally the pump is on, the tank is filled. Frustrated Man jumps into the driver’s seat and pulls away, gas-cap dangling down, gas-door open to the Texas dust. I wave and try to stop him, I guess he thinks I’m waving in an angry fit for the delay, but I am laughing; my entertainment for the day.

My drive is grand, the limit 80 mph, the road is flat, the trucks are well-behaved, I pass them all with ease. I’m like Aladdin, on a magic carpet ride.

We’ll have a 7:30 dark; I make it to Van Horn in time to catch the blinding sunset sun, so bright I cannot see the street. Our room is nice, but plain; I feed the cats and drive a mile to Chuy’s, the recommended place. Oh my, inside are photographs and autographs; this place is celebrity. Pat and Vanna ate here just last month! They brag about it unashamedly, the menu tells the story of their fame. John Madden stopped to watch a football game, mentioned them on air, keeps coming back. They’ve named a room for him; named him on the outside sign. http://chuys1959.com/index.php

I order chilies rellenos, the No 9, $8.95, the best I’ve ever eaten anywhere. Sitting by the fish tank, munching rice and beans, I wonder what will come my way, by Phoenix time.

The Ides are Springsteen

Linda Burton posting from Austin, Texas — Beware the Ides? The schedule said noon, but it was 12:27 before The Boss arrived at the Austin Convention Center and began his Keynote Address, kicking off the music portion of SXSW today. “A keynote speech at NOON?” he groused. “All musicians are asleep right now.”

Not a musician, and not asleep, I enjoyed immensely (via live coverage on KUT) what he called a key notes talk.  “Since Elvis died,” he commented, “we have not agreed on anything about music. There is no pure way of doing it. There’s just doing it.”

He’s been doing it. It was announced yesterday that Springsteen’s latest album, Wrecking Ball, had topped the charts at  #1, his 10th  #1 album in the US, tying him with Elvis for third most  #1 albums in US chart history.

I’ve got no photos for you, but others do. Check it out. http://kut.org/

http://sxsw.com/

http://www.npr.org/music/

http://brucespringsteen.net/

No Limits on Austin

  Linda Burton posting from Austin, Texas — The tour guide pointed out the Moody Theater as we turned onto Willie Nelson Avenue. “That’s where Austin City Limits tapes its shows,” he said,” but tickets are handed out on a lottery basis, so don’t expect to just walk in the door.”

 It’s popular, all right. Did you know that ACL is is the longest-running music program in television history? The only TV show awarded the Presidential Medal of the Arts, it has featured everyone from Willie Nelson to Foo Fighters, presenting a huge variety of musical styles. Who could have guessed what would happen when PBS put out the call back in 1974 for original programming from its local stations?

Trio Bill Arhos, Paul Bosner and Bruce Scafe put their heads together and hatched the idea of showcasing Austin’s diverse mix of country, blues, folk and psychedelia. Bosner suggested the name — he passed the Austin City Limit sign on his commute coming in from Dallas — and thus a legend was born .http://austincitylimits.com/

That Austin City Limit sign has welcomed many to the Live Music Capital of the World. Today the city boasts 200 live music venues and 2,000 musicians in residence. And then there is the ACL Annual Music Festival in Zilker Park, three days, eight stages, and 130 bands; the Pachanga Festival, latin-themed, 20 bands of various genres; the Urban Music Festival; and of course, SXSW (those in the know just say South By) which I’ve been talking about all week, the granddaddy of all festivals. http://www.austintexas.org

And if you go away, that Austin City Limit sign welcomes you back, no matter where you’ve been. 

 Driven by a restless urge to wander,
You hitch your wagon to a shooting star.
Flying down the highway headed yonder,
Then you get where you were going, and there you are.

So a body’s born with half a mind to travel,
That wanderlust to pack your bags and roam,
‘Til you’re wearing out your boots just scratching gravel,
And you long to be some place that feels like home…

I’ve been a little blue but I’ll be fine
When I see that AUSTIN CITY LIMITS sign.

Lyrics by Hank Alrich https://hankalrich.com/notes/AustinCityLimits.html

Goddess of Liberty

Linda Burton posting from Austin, Texas — The Goddess of Liberty sits atop the Texas State Capitol dome, but I don’t find much information about why she was chosen. I was struck by the symbolism however, in my stroll around the capitol grounds and inside the building today. http://www.tspb.state.tx.us/SPB/capitol/texcap.htm

Out front a demonstration was going on, protesting cuts in funds for women’s health care. It was a lively group, rallying in red, making noise, being heard, speaking up. The Planned Parenthood bus was parked nearby, and demonstrations are scheduled for Tuesdays as these issues continue to be top-line news. Participants consented to my picture-taking efforts.

 Further up the walkway, I met Nicole, a University of Texas sophomore majoring in advertising. She was wandering the grounds with camera in hand, on assignment, looking for “something that was a defining moment in Texas history.” I asked permission to get her picture, and at my request, she took mine.

 Up at the Visitors Entrance, the line had gotten long. The two women in front of me were together, why had they come today? I didn’t ask, but noted one was armed with her camera.

 Tours were going off every 15 minutes. A little bit about the capitol, a little about Texas history, 45 minutes guided, or, you can tour the entire building on your own. Pamphlets in many languages are available to explain what you’re seeing. Davy Crockett’s portrait looms large, as do statues of Sam Houston, who served as President of the Republic of Texas, and Stephen Austin, for whom the capital city is named. In the rotunda, portraits of ex-governors surround. To the right of Ann Richards is George W Bush (accidental symbolism?). Current governor Rick Perry doesn’t get a portrait until he leaves office. Then everybody shifts over one position!

I had some lunch in the outstanding cafeteria downstairs and while resting on a bench near the gift shop met Wilma, a retired schoolteacher from Lubbock. We chatted about schools, and teaching, and changing times. She was there with her parents, her sister, and a nephew and niece. I met them too, a delightful family, headed for San Antonio after a few days in Austin. Spring break for the kids. “We have 25 grandchildren, four adopted,” bragged Wilma’s parents, offering pictures.

Back outside, a brilliant evening gown on the path ahead caught my attention. A young girl, pretty in pink, posing beside the capitol trees. Permission to get your picture? I asked. Two men, her father and her brother, armed with heavy-duty cameras, nodded in assent. “What is the occasion? Did you win a contest?” “No, I’m turning fifteen,” was her answer. A family that had been touring the capitol while I was inside squealed in delight at this photo-op and jumped to pose with her. Father and brother beamed.

The grounds were filled with kids chasing squirrels, bicycles propped against a tree while their riders rested beside, helmets on the ground; picnics spread for families; a lone laptopper concentrating over computer intricacies and the smell of fresh air. Over at the edge a woman sat on a bench, her little white dog beside.

The goddess of liberty stood watch over all.  I remembered the comment made to me by an excited young boy of ten as we waited for the capitol tour to begin. From Midland, he was there with his parents and sister for spring break time. “I’ve got a good feeling about this,” he said.

Radio Face

Linda Burton posting from Austin, Texas — KUT radio, Austin, Texas, 90.5 on your radio dial. http://kut.org/ Check it out.

This public radio station is the face of Texas. Give it the Yellow Rose, the Lone Star, the Bluebonnet Blue Ribbon for excellence. I confess to being a devoted NPR listener; heck, before I left home I made a list of all the public stations in all the capital cities so I could tune in as soon as I arrived.

KUT has entertained and guided me from Day 1 in Austin. Good programming, enough talk, enough news, and laudy miss maudy there is music music music. It’s not a blues station, like some I’ve loved, or a jazz station; nor does it dote on country, or folk, or bluegrass, or latin. It does everything.

Listening to the Eklektikos show a few days ago while computering, I heard Emmylou Harris and Johnny Cash, Bob Marley and Bruce Springsteen, Asleep at the Wheel and The Shins, Alejandro Escovedo and Alabama Shakes, with NPR news at 11 followed by a live in-studio performance by Dr Dog, that psychedelic-indie rock band out of Pennsylvania in town for SXSW,. Dr Dog’s performace was a little off, for which they apologized. “Morning voice, huh?” was the astute-yet-forgiving comment. I felt like they were sitting in my living room. Connection.

KUT is thick in the community, involved and offering opportunity for involvement. It’s been around since 1958, licensed to the University of Texas at Austin, a service of the College of Communication. Committed to supporting civic and cultural life in Central Texas, its mission is simply stated — to create experiences that deepen understanding and connect people. “We are committed to authenticity, craft, context and the unique power of the human voice in all its forms.”

Check it out. And remember, this is a publicly supported station. Make a donation. Become a member. See the little blue button at the top right of their site.  http://kut.org/

Keep Fixing Up the Doghouse

Linda Burton posting from Austin, Texas — When you’re in Austin you expect live music with your Sunday brunch. Threadgill’s North wasn’t too far away, easy choice. Good home cooking, biscuits, gravy, and even those “cheesey grits” Mitt Romney mentioned eating in Alabama yesterday, obviously not up on the subtleties of grits.

Hank & Shaidri Alrich were already singing when I arrived, sweet voices carrying over the noise of hungry people in the middle of Sunday social time. More coffee please, yes, I’ll have the buffet. No brainer — not only cheesey grits, but cheesey eggs, sausage, bacon, pancakes, french toast, cantaloupe, go back twice. A family place, bouncy kids in high chairs, energy alive.

“Don’t fix up the doghouse, cause this old dog is gone….” sounded clear over the commotion, followed by pithy warnings about not taking wooden nickles either. Don’t even bother taking off your makeup, cause I’ve found a new address, and, bottom line, I’m gone. Two men in dark jackets-over-jeans whipped out their cell phones and started recording, captured and enraptured.

They were SXSW junkies, here from Chicago for face-to-face time, marketing moguls after the hottest trends. “It’s my first time,” the one named Lazarus told me, “but I’ll come back next year for sure.”

I bought a CD (are they still in style?) and chatted with Hank during the break. Hank was an Austin fixture for many years, at one time managing the Armadillo World Headquarters, steering through hard times of the 70’s. “I live in northern California now,” he said. “A peaceful place, the Sierras out my door. When we turn out our lights at night, there is no light anywhere around.” https://hankalrich.com/CarryMeHome.html

This old dog is gone? Not quite. Hank and daughter Shaidri bring their music back to Austin several times a year. Live on, legends Kenneth Threadgill, and Eddie Wilson, and all who keep fixing up the doghouse. That’s Threadgill’s. Dang, it’s good.  http://www.threadgills.com/history.php

Don’t Let the Rain Catch You Sighing

Linda Burton posting from Austin, Texas — Geek chic or the rodeo? Which would you rather experience in the midst of a bodacious Texas thunderstorm? Nobody except the pedicabbers paid the least bit of attention to the weather today as folks crowded in to both events with a fervor.

Governor Rick Perry dropped by SXSW and chatted with CNN’s Peter Hamby, wearing jeans and an arm sling. When asked what he’d do differently next time, he answered, “Well, I wouldn’t have back surgery just before a campaign. I’d start a little earlier and be better prepared.” Chalk it up to live and learn.

A  Twitterer commented later “Why was his arm in a sling? Was it from his fall from the presidential race?”  News knows it was from his February 24 surgery to repair his right clavicle, which did not heal properly after a 2009 bicycle accident.

Speaking of Twitter, the Interactive Hotspot calls Twitter “so 2007” news. What’s trending now is “close friends.” If you’ve got Facebook friends, your phone can tell you which ones are close by. Is this a good thing? Will this replace Lassie?

And speaking of races, the Swifty Swine Pig Races began today over at the Fairgrounds as Rodeo Austin swings into action. March 9-24, http://www.rodeoaustin.com . Little piglets like Kevin Bacon and Justin Bieboar race around Porkchop Downs International Speedway aiming for the oreo prize. Cutester!

I opted for cozy today, watching everybody else’s excitement from the dry side of the windowpane, letting the pizza boy deliver right to the door. A person can choose to be geek-cheeky at home, too, every now and then.