movie: Muscle Shoals (2013)

muscle shoalsFollowing up on The Secret to a Happy Ending that we watched the other night, I finally found the time to watch this 2013 documentary, too. I’ve been hearing about it for the last two years and knew I needed to see it, and now I’m passing it on: go see this film now.

Muscle Shoals is about the town in Alabama of the same name, a small place, a backwater, where some of the greatest American music ever has been recorded. It’s full of beautiful cinematography portraying the natural beauty of the place, and full of impressive musicians talking about the special magic made there. The list of contributors is formidable: Gregg Allman, Clarence Carter, Jimmy Cliff, Aretha Franklin, Rick Hall, David Hood (Patterson Hood’s dad), Mick Jagger, Alicia Keys, Ed King, Spooner Oldham, Keith Richards, Wilson Pickett, Percy Sledge, Candi Staton… and that’s a who’s who of who is in the movie, not who recorded there. That list is longer and more impressive. There are also video footage and audio tracks from back when history was being made at FAME Studio and later at Muscle Shoals Sound. The whole thing is guaranteed to give you goosebumps. You can view clips here; but really, you want to go find the whole thing.

The morning after, I ran out to my local record store and bought albums by Etta James, Wilson Pickett, the Allman Brothers, and Lynyrd Skynyrd. What will you buy?


Rating: 9 tragedies in Rick Hall’s life, whew.

movie: The Secret to a Happy Ending (2009)

From the band’s website:

This is a film about the redemptive power of rock and roll; it’s about the American South, where rock was born; it’s about a band straddling the borders of rock, punk and country; it’s about making art, making love and making a living; it’s about the Drive-By Truckers. This film documents the band and their fans as they explore tales of human weakness and redemption. With unparalleled access, this documentary encompasses three critical years of touring and recording as the band struggles to overcome trauma and survives a near breakup, in a persistent search for a happy ending.

secret to a happy endingThe Drive-by Truckers are one of my favorite bands and one that has had an impact on my life and how I look at my world. It is a love I share with the Husband. We saw this movie in a theatre when it came out to town, back in Houston. We bought a copy of it on DVD, too, and now I am in this writing class and working on a long essay about the Truckers and what they mean to me; so as research, we watched the movie again at home.

Obviously and basically, I love the movie because it is a distillation of the band. The filmmaker was lucky to have the Truckers’ cooperation, and followed them to several shows, recording live footage; and interviewed all the band members repeatedly, as well as some of their families. Cultural authorities like a university professor (and obvious DBT fan) and music writer get screen time as well. This is a fan’s documentary, and I think fans can’t help but be pleased by it. Non-fans are liable to become fans… but then, I’m biased.

I like that the movie captures a moment in the life span of this long-lived band, reviewing the early years (including the band Adam’s House Cat, where the two lead men, Patterson Hood and Mike Cooley, originally played together) and then getting into a few difficult years, when bassist Shonna Tucker and guitarist/singer/songwriter Jason Isbell divorced, and Isbell left the band. (He’s had an impressive solo career since. Look him up.) One of the things I’ve come to love about DBT is how many layers there are to love, investigate, and appreciate – like the people involved. The story of Shonna and Isbell breaking up is maybe none of my business; but you can bet all the band’s fans followed it and had feelings about it, nonetheless. For the record, I blame no one and wish them both the best.

It’s a hell of a good movie, and even if you’re not a Truckers fan, I think it’s a fine documentary about rock-and-roll (and other things too). It pulls my heartstrings.


Rating: 9 songs.

I hope this is not too off topic, but I want to share a short piece that didn’t make it into my longer essay about the Truckers and their impact on me.

I have a large tattoo covering my right arm and shoulder: a tree and its surroundings and inhabitants: fallen logs, grasses and flowers and mushrooms, a bunny rabbit, a snake, a squirrel, a turtle, a weasel, a fat yellow songbird. On the front of my shoulder, the tree’s branches part around a Cooley bird. Around the back of my shoulder, wrapping onto my back, a black owl with red eyes flies away, departing. It’s the same owl that my husband Chris has tattooed on his left bicep, flying above a leafless tree on a burnt yellow desert and under a spooky moon that looks down with knowing eyes and a slight smirk.

These tattoos borrow images from Wes Freed, a Virginia-based artist who has drawn all the art for all the Drive-by Truckers’ albums, posters, website art, promotional material, backdrops, and etc. since time immemorial (or at least the Southern Rock Opera album of 2004). He is the band’s brand. In a documentary about the Truckers called The Secret to a Happy Ending (whose cover art he also created), he says: “It’s always about the music. The music is the most important thing. But there’s so much going on with the records. It’s cool to be able to have the opportunity to illustrate the songs. That’s cool.” Wes Freed. I love that his named is a sentence: Wes Freed; or else a description: Wes, Freed. And the songs are themselves filled with dark and toothsome images. I did my own (very poor) copy of Freed’s illustration of “The Wig He Made Her Wear,” a song based on true current events in which a Tennessee preacher’s wife kills her husband: in court, her lawyers then displayed “them high-heeled shoes and that wig he made her wear,” as evidence of how abused she had been before she just snapped. Freed portrays a woman in a see-through negligee and high-heeled pumps, blue hair piled and stacked high, holding a shotgun whose smoke swirls around to caress her against an enormous yellow moon. A monkey in a fez cavorts behind her. I’ve looked and looked for Freed’s illustration of this song on the internet, but it seems to have disappeared; all I have is my poor imitation.

Thanks for reading.

a few more photos: Drive-by Truckers in Nashville

Following up on my earlier Walk About Town post, Husband has graciously shared with us a few pictures he took with his magicphone. Thanks, Husband!

John Neff on the guitar

John Neff on the guitar


left to right: Brad Morgan on drums; Patterson Hood on vocals/guitar; Mike Cooley "the stroker ace" on vocals/guitar; and David Barbe on bass, recently replacing Shonna Tucker who we miss very much.

left to right: Brad Morgan on drums; Patterson Hood on vocals/guitar; Mike Cooley “the stroker ace” on vocals/guitar; and David Barbe on bass, recently replacing Shonna Tucker who we miss very much.


Neff on steel guitar

Neff on steel guitar


silhouette.


Lovely pictures, Husband. Thanks for sharing!

A Walk About Town: Nashville

A Walk About Town is hosted by Natalie over at Coffee and a Book Chick.

Y’all, I had the *BEST* time last weekend! Husband and I flew to Nashville on Friday afternoon to catch not one, but two back-to-back concerts by our favorite band, the Drive-by Truckers. And not only were the shows great, but we found the city to be very pleasant and attractive (although cold), and with some neat things to see, too.

For example: did you know that Nashville is “the Athens of the South”? I didn’t. We visited Centennial Park, the setting for the Tennessee Centennial Exposition of 1897 (the state’s 100th anniversary was actually in 1896, but it took them a little while to get the fairgrounds together!) – think Chicago World Fair (of the same time period) but on a statewide scale. They had a great many exhibits, including an Indian Village and a Chinese Village, etc. which would not pass PC-muster in modern times; and the park is still lovely today. But the real draw for me was the Parthenon. That’s right, Nashville boasts the world’s only full-size replica of the Parthenon of Athens.

Nashville's Parthenon in Centennial Park


After the Exposition, it was allowed to crumble and decay, ivy crawling up its walls, but they later restored it and just in the last 15 years built their full-size replica of the 43-foot-tall statue of Athena that resides within, making it a still more faithful copy. Also within are replicas (also full-size) of the fragments of the pediments of Athens’ Parthenon; the originals now reside at the British Museum. I am a fan of Ancient Greece, and this was an absolute treat for me. Husband was patient with me and even found it a little bit interesting himself I think!

the western pediment depicts Athena battling Poseidon for the right to patronage of this new city. (guess who won)


the eastern pediment depicts Athena's birth - you recall, she sprang fully-clothed and arms from the head of her father, Zeus.


the statue of Athena. they are careful to explain that the gaudy face paint and gold leaf is believed to be historically accurate.

the statue of Athena. they are careful to explain that the gaudy face paint and gold leaf is believed to be historically accurate.


And finally, the rest of the park was a nice outdoor space but not so pleasant while we were there at just-below-freezing temperatures and a biting wind. The Canadian geese (accompanied by mallards in the scenic waterway) did not mind so much.

Canadian geese - they let us get very close. quite tame, of course. I'm sure they're fed by a lot of tourists


can I show you one more picture of the Parthenon?


From Centennial Park we moved on to Antique Archeology. If the Parthenon was my choice, this one was Husband’s; he’s a fan of the show American Pickers, and this is one of several (I think) of their stores where they sell the goods they “pick.” It was funny to see the scene; what presumably used to be an antique shops or good-junk shop is now kind of a theme park for fans of the show. One whole wall is t-shirts. It was packed (on a Saturday – of course) and we didn’t stay long but Husband got a souvenir koozie and we had a nice chat with an employee. Here is Husband’s arty shot of the window sign:
just don't look if it hurts your face

just don’t look if it hurts your face


The building it was in was really cool.
Marathon Automobiles houses Antique Archeology

Marathon Automobiles houses Antique Archeology


From there we needed a break, so hit up Blackstone Brewery, where we had several good beers and a great lunch. Our bartender, Chris, was very friendly, and I do appreciate a chatty bartender as Husband can attest. It was a perfect way to warm up and while away our afternoon before napping and heading out for live music. Look, they even have a little library nook!

lovely! no actually we sat at the bar.


I did get around to reviewing the pub on Beer Advocate, where I’ve gotten lazy and done less reviewing in recent years. I don’t know if you can still view reviews there without logging in, though. It’s free to set up an account, but not everyone will want to. Try here and let me know. If you’re looking around, I’m texashammer and mine will presumably be the most recent Blackstone review at least for a little while.

But what of the live music, you say? That was our whole original reason for being there! I don’t really have too many pictures to share from that part of the weekend, for one thing, but I’ll tell you the story (and save the best picture for last).

We saw both shows at the Cannery Ballroom, which despite getting mixed reviews we found a great place all around. Beers are waaay cheaper than at the House of Blues in Houston where the Truckers have been playing every time they’ve been to town in recent years. (Boo hiss HOB.) The sound was good. (I finally remembered my ear-plugs on the second night!) Friday night’s opening act, Nikki Lane, was great – a country singer-songwriter with a gender-equal band and kind of a loungey feel to her twang. Saturday night’s opener was The Bobby Keys Band, and they were rad, too. The Truckers absolutely killed it; these were two of the better shows I’ve seen despite Cooley being (ahem) a little buzzed on Friday night. Both nights they played us an encore that must have been 30 minutes long – a real treat. My only complaint is the 9 or 10 songs I counted that we heard both nights. This is a band with too much material – even having lost bassist and songwriter Shonna Tucker recently (sob!) – to give us repeat material. But they’re all good songs. (If you want to hear about the night from someone with better rock-show vocabulary than I have, there’s a pretty good article here.)

And here is the highlight: both nights I hung around after and got to talk to steel guitarist Johnny Neff, and he was so nice! People, I tell you I’ve been milling about after these shows for years, and this was my first reward. On Saturday night he even let me take a picture with him!

me with steel guitarist John Neff!


Johnny! Thanks for taking the time to talk to me. Keep up the good work!

Sorry for the long post but what a super great weekend I had. Thanks for the Valentine’s Day present, darlin! We love Nashville and I can’t wait to go back. Anybody else get up to anything cool this week?

A Walk About D-Town

A Walk About Town is a brand-new meme hosted by Natalie over at Coffee and a Book Chick. I liked the idea the first time I saw it, but wasn’t sure my life would be exciting enough to warrant a weekly post! This week I do have something to share, and Natalie, I love the idea. I’ll do my best to be exciting enough to keep up. 🙂

Last weekend I took a road trip with one of my very oldest, best friends, Barrett. You might recall that I am still recovering from knee surgery; when we left on Saturday, I was 8 days into recovery. So we took a borrowed wheelchair with us, and Barrett used that as an excuse to rent us a big ol’ Cadillac for the drive! (I wasn’t ready to drive my car yet, and it’s too difficult to drive for me to wish it on Barrett; and he drives a Vespa.) On Friday night we had been to see another friend play in Sunward, a band from Dallas. It was their very first Houston gig, and a bunch of old friends turned up for it. So we dragged a little bit on Saturday morning, but did get off, in the Cadillac, with the wheelchair, headed (by coincidence) for Dallas.

We had an uneventful drive and hooked up with another friend Jimmy for an evening that started with sushi and sake (SO good) and then took us on to the Polyphonic Spree Christmas Extravaganza. This awesome and totally unique (one might even say weird) band, complete with choir on risers and often staging as many as 30+ members, hadn’t put on a Christmas show in 3-4 years, so it was a neat reunion for us. The first set is Christmas music for the youngsters – and this was preceded by We’re Not Guys, a band made up of four girls, three maybe middle-school age and one I feel sure was in grade school! They weren’t terribly complicated musically but it was impressive as hell. Anyway, then came the Spree’s Christmas set, then the Syncopated Ladies performed – this is a group of ladies of a certain age who do a dance routine. And then we got the Spree rock set – and I have to admit, I was getting stiff and uncomfortable in my wheelchair by then, and maybe didn’t enjoy it as much as I could have. But they do put on a show, with lots of positive energy, and I love watching ALL those musicians rocking their various instruments, and singing along. It was a neat thing to experience again, as it’s been several years since I’ve seen the Spree live.

From there we let Jimmy take us on to a dive bar whose name I’m not sure I ever caught – I think it started with an A – where I got a way comfier seat, and could elevate my knee; Jimmy brought me all the cans of Lone Star my heart desired, and a local classic-country band called the King Bucks was rocking out. And strangely – considering that the Spree had been the point of the trip – that was my favorite part of the evening.

The three of us stayed up too late catching up, and then started our day on Sunday with brunch and (for me) mimosas, then on to a decent beer bar in Jimmy’s neighborhood for the final moments of catch-up time with Jimmy. (Barrett and I had a 5-hour car ride together still to come.) It was action-packed – I never got Husband on the phone the whole weekend til we were halfway home! – but so good. I’m just sorry Jerko wasn’t able to join us in his own town (he had another gig Saturday night). I can’t wait to do it again. Thanks Barrett for driving and Jimmy for hosting; good times! I did find just one picture, only because I shamelessly stole from Barrett who hopefully will not sue me. This is Tim Delaughter (formerly of Tripping Daisy), the lead for the Spree, amid the confetti:

Thanks Natalie for the idea for today’s post. And what have you, lovely readers, done lately that’s interesting?

Percussion Ensemble Chamber Concert, Shepherd School of Music, Rice University

Rice University here in Houston is a very prestigious school in itself; its Shepherd School of Music is one of the top music schools in the country. They put on a bunch of free concerts, and I recently (Oct. 16) went with a friend to see a percussion concert in the Alice Pratt Brown Hall:

(photo credit due to the structural engineering company that designed the building)

It was an amazing set of performances. There was a lovely diversity of instruments and styles. Now, I’m no musical scholar, so these are my amateur’s impressions…

The first piece was “Varied Trio” by Lou Harrison (three parts: Bowl Bells, Gending, and Dance). Two percussionists switched around between playing bowls, xylophone and marimba, accompanied by a violin. I was really there for the xylophone and marimba; I love the clear, pure, resonant tones they make. And the bowls were very interesting, too. I liked how the violin was mostly plucked rather than played with the bow; it behaved more like a percussion instrument that way.

Next two young ladies performed Marcel Tournier’s “Promenade a l’Automne” on marimba and cello. This was a truly amazing and beautiful piece of music and far too short! I wanted much more of them!

Bela Bartok’s “Duets for Two Violins” (Pillow Dance, Ruthenian Dance, Arabian Dance) was performed by one violin and a marimba, and the marimba stands in beautifully for the second violin, as far as I can tell. I liked that each movement had its own sound to it. While a violin makes lovely music I really love what the marimba brings. The notes it creates are like liquid or glass, so round and perfect.

John Cage’s “Credo in US” was the evening’s total departure. I would call this piece avant-garde, although I’m not sure of the technical correctness of the term – I’m no music student. It involved a piano, two percussionists playing a bunch of what seemed to be plain old tin cans, and a fourth student playing samples of recorded FM radio. Most odd and cacophonous; my immediate thought here was while Husband would not necessarily have enjoyed the earlier pieces – not enough metal – HERE was the metal; he’d be fine! It was a really, really fascinating and interesting piece. It was suspenseful; I was certainly not sure what was coming next and I’m not sure I would have noticed if one of the musicians had made a mistake. 🙂 It reminded me somehow of Don DeLillo’s White Noise. Make of that what you will. But I mean all of it in the most positive way!

Next came a young lady on the marimba (or xylophone? I’m not sure I recall) accompanied by a French horn, and this was just so lovely! They played Verne Reynolds’s “Hornvibes” in three movements: Fantasy, Riffs, and Elegy. The first and third played with harmonics; my buddy Justin (my date for the evening, and a musician, so we’ll listen to him) said the timing was based on the intervals of the harmonics. The waves of sound were almost tactile; it was amazing.

“Birdsong” by Scott R. Harding was performed on marimba and alto sax, and was enjoyable and kind of jazzy (maybe that’s just the sax getting to me) but I think I was distracted by trying to find the titles of the three movements (Bird of a Feather, Flock Together; Kill Two Birds with One Stone; Early Bird Gets the Worm) in the music, which I couldn’t. Maybe I was being too literal.

Bernhard Heiden’s “Four Fancies” (in three movements, confusingly: Ostinato, Dialogue, and Coda) finished up the night with a xylophone, a marimba, and an electric bass, which was an interesting touch. I’m pretty familiar with the concept of the bass as a percussion instrument; this involved three instruments that are both percussive and melodic. I love that kind of playing around with the definitions.

My favorites pieces of the night were “Promenade a l’Automne” and “Hornvibes.” It was a very special evening; I need more music like this in my life. Best of all, these performances are free, you don’t have to dress up unless you want to :), and just showing up helps local musical talent by showing support (and giving them an audience to practice any stage fright upon). Thanks Justin for accompanying me. I’ll be back for more!

back from the weekend, with very little reading, just a touch of Hemingway.

Hello friends. Thanks for bearing with me. Life is busy. I have this job, see. And I’m taking this class in Database Searching which is fab but takes up time. And I’m trying to be back on this bike and train for the Ouachita Challenge, and we took that vacation, and, and. Thanks for bearing with me.

I had a great weekend, very productive. On Saturday I got to ride bikes with the Husband who made it home from Newark earlier than expected; we planted a tree and did some yard stuff; my mother brought us a beautiful quilt she made for us; and I finally photographed for you of a beautiful set of bookshelves the Husband made (several weeks ago now). Pictures:

Mother and Husband with swamp cypress oak and whimsical wheelbarrow herb garden


whimsical wheelbarrow herb garden with dragonfly


Encyclopaedia Britannica bookshelves, courtesy of Husband (please ignore electronic mess)


close-up Encyclopaedia Britannica shelves


beautiful "union" t-shirt quilt courtesy of Mother


This is an elaborate, beautifully crafted quilt made up of (cycling) event t-shirts belonging to the Husband and myself. It is our wedding gift (we will soon be married 3 years, this is not a fast process) from my Mother and it’s a “union” quilt because it symbolizes our union, combining our two histories of bicycle racing as it does. It’s so lovely, we don’t know what to do with the little dogs who like to muss up bedcoverings.

close-up of quilt: notice Chihuahuan Desert Challenge (earlier incarnation of the trip we just took to Big Bend) and above, the Warda Race (earlier incarnation of the race I did yesterday)

Aren’t I a lucky girl? And that was Saturday.

Yesterday – Sunday – I headed out to race Bikesport Presents the Warda Race. Without boring you too much (hopefully), I will say that I have gotten fat & out of shape while being off the bike for an unexpectedly long time this past fall & winter, and I knew this race would be a rude awakening. So, I did the reasonable thing and signed up for not the Category 2 Men, not the Category 1 Women, but the Pro Women’s race. This got me an extra lap of pain and suffering and embarrassment in my currently-undersized spandex. It went as expected. But, this kind of pain and suffering is going to get me back on track. I’m now less than 5 weeks away from the Ouachita Challenge, so it’s time to get to work.

This busy, productive, and happy weekend did not leave time for much reading. I don’t think I did any reading, in fact. So today I’m back on By-Line: Ernest Hemingway, and very happy to be. I shall make a few bookish remarks so this blog doesn’t seem too much a sham, ok?

I really enjoy reading Hemingway’s short articles and dispatches. I can’t believe it took me this long to pick up on this little pleasure. I have always loved him and have devoured all his novels, several of his nonfiction works (and I think you really have to love Hemingway to get through Death in the Afternoon – or bull-fighting, perhaps – but I actually did enjoy it), and I THINK I’ve read all his short stories – I’ve got a collection of collections. But somehow this collection of his journalism has eluded me til now.

These are short pieces of writing, covering his international travels, war and international politics, fishing, hunting, and general lifestyle. It seems that then, as now, this man’s life was of some interest; he had outrageous adventures (how much he’s elaborated or exaggerated them, would be a subject for another post) and saw outrageous sights. Hemingway’s fiction was heavily based on fact, and I fear his journalism might be tinged with fiction, especially where the Exploits of Papa are concerned. This is one of the mysteries and controversies of Hemingway. It may not be a popular feminist position to take, but I adore Hemingway for his work, even if he wasn’t a savory character – let alone a good husband. To any of his wives.

I was contemplating today, as I read some hunting-and-fishing stories he wrote for Esquire, that one of the Hemingway’s most beautiful and rare talents, is that he makes me care about things I don’t care about. I don’t care for hunting or fishing. These activities are not interesting to me; and in some cases I find hunting downright distasteful. But when Hemingway describes the way a fish, or a bird, moves, or the battle between the fisherman and his prey a la The Old Man and the Sea, or when he describes the experience of the bottle of icy cold white wine he’s had stuck down in the cold trout stream all day – I can taste the wine, and I care about the fish. He makes me taste and feel things very vibrantly, even things I’ve never experienced. He’s a very visceral writer.

In the same way, I’ve always said one of my favorite things about the Drive-by Truckers is their ability to make me care about things I don’t care about. For example, car racing is not interesting to me. But just about every time I hear a recording of them playing Daddy’s Cup (and I’ve heard it a lot), I cry. Take a moment and listen, yourself. (The video portion of this video is just filler. You’re there for the audio. Close your eyes.)

I’ve even sent the Husband (who does care about fishing) a short article by Hemingway to read, and the Husband, who doesn’t read, did enjoy it. The Husband prefers to DO things rather than sit around and read about them (we don’t watch movies, because two hours is too long to sit down – I love that he’s a do-er), but perhaps he can appreciate that Hemingway makes his reader feel the action, the doing of it.

I may be moving slowly these days, but a nice compilation like this, of short stories, or newspaper articles, or what have you, is just the thing for a part-time reader. Thanks for bearing with me and my busy life, and have a happy Monday!

trip recap

I’ll try and keep this as brief as possible. I had a blast! I just want to give a few highlights and let you know where we diverged from the “potential vacation” posts you saw. (Not much.)

Friday night we were in Austin with Bart & Emily, who have hosted us for similar outrageous fun in the past. They’re great hosts! By the time we got into town they had a great dinner all ready for us… I think there was barbecued chicken, leftover brisket, dirty rice, and cornbread with Lil Smokey sausages in it. (Don’t ask.) Bart homebrews, so we had some awesome beer to drink on draft off the back porch, too. There was a caramel pecan porter that was like a dessert, and also a lighter one, I guess it was a wit? We went out late to see two bands play: Smoke and Feathers, followed by the Mother Hips, at the Hole in the Wall. Smoke and Feathers reminded me of a male-vocal Portishead, which was creepy but cool. They ALL had pretty impressive beards, too. There was a theramin! It was great. Mother Hips apparently have a Grateful Dead connection, and the lead guy kind of looked like my Pops. That was cool, too. Then we went back to the house and watched part of a Led Zepplin documentary. Great night.

Saturday we ate some Mexican food and hit the road. The Eola School was really cool! Just this one guy runs four businesses at once. He brews beer (was pouring a German blonde and a smoked porter – I don’t like smoke on my beer so we stuck with the blonde which was fine); he cooks burgers & fried foods; he offers hostel-style lodging (bunk beds, BYO bedding); and he’s renovating a historic schoolhouse building from the 1930’s, if I remember correctly. I give him full credit on all counts! It was well worth our detour.

Sunday we headed out into nowhere to visit the Chinati Hot Springs. It was a beautiful location several hours down a dirt road, with several clean, built-out tubs fed by natural hot springs, and rustic cabins with a community kitchen where we made our dinner and breakfast.

on the drive into Chinati


Feeling refreshed, we got up Monday morning and drove through Ruidoso and Presidio, through Big Bend Ranch State Park, into the towns of Lajitas, Terlingua, and Study Butte (one largish area) for the rest of our week’s activities.

Tuesday we hiked Lost Mines. It was a really great, scenic, steep hike of about 3 hours, out and back, to a peak with an outstanding panorama. It was moderately challenging and beautiful and well worth it. The Husband’s new gadget gave us altitude readings (not something we use in Houston! our local bike rides have elevation changes of 15-20 feet if we take the freeway overpasses) that explained why I was a touch out of breath.

Wednesday we rode some of the Lajitas trail system, which is a lot of the race course that we’re familiar with. That was nice to see; it was a casual ride (before people started showing up for the mountain bike festival), just the two of us, on familiar trails.

A few of our friends showed up Wednesday night, and the rest on Thursday. Thursday morning we got up early to do some logistics: we caravaned with some friends to leave a car at one end of our point-to-point ride in Big Bend National Park. We rode from the north end of an old jeep road down to a (different) hot springs right on the Rio Grande. This was our hottest day, in the upper 90’s, in the blazing sun with no shelter, and it was a rough and climby ride, and I ran out of water, so it was a doozy! But we had outstanding views, good company, and burning legs – it was a great day. And Tobin makes a mean margarita. The hot springs were less appealing than we had expected after such a long, hot day, but it turned out lovely all the same – these hot springs backed right up to the cold Rio Grande, so you could just hop the little wall (like a swimming pool and hot tub, but muddier) to change from hot to cold. It was a nice, relaxing day.

Friday we rode some more Lajitas trails, this time in a group, and then went back into the national park for a night hike to a waterfall. I banged my head on a rock 😦 but I survived and it was otherwise a beautiful evening with breathtaking sunset, as always out there.

omg sunset! Big Bend National Park

We went back to the cabin for a big community dinner involving burgers, chicken, sausages, bratwurst, mac’n’cheese, and beer. Ahem! Heavy. This was in preparation for Saturday’s epic.

We decidedly not to do the capital-E Epic ride on Saturday. We had been beaten by such hot temperatures, and were hearing such frightening tales of what the Epic involved, that we bailed in favor of what I’m calling the mini-epic. It was still a great, long, hot, challenging, FUN ride at just under 6 hours – the Epic would have put us well over 8 hours, I think. What a day! I was definitely weak out there at some points (like on the climbs! did I say we don’t have those in Houston?), but I really enjoyed the creekbeds, strangely enough, and actually had a real burst of energy at the end, and rode the last couple miles fast, hard, and happy. THIS is what we drive to the desert for.

Saturday night ended with all the necessary ingredients. We drank Real Ale Fireman #4 (thank you Real Ale for sponsoring the festival!), hung out with all our friends, saw some live music, danced, and hula hooped. The Husband grilled some delicious chicken and we collapsed in exhaustion.

Sunday, sadly, saw us making the Epic (capital-E), slightly hungover drive back into Houston. I think we made it just under 12 hours including stops. Sigh. For once I was not ready for our trip to end, even missing the little dogs. But! There’s always next year. See you in the desert!


(all photo credits to the Husband. good job Husband!)

Adrian Zavala

On Saturday night this past weekend (Jan. 29) the Husband and I finally went to go see our neighbor play music. We’ve been neighbors for years and friends for the same number of years, and he’s been playing music locally for less time, maybe a bit over a year? since he quit his full-time job to go back to being a professional musician. We have missed his shows many times over, because we spend a lot of time traveling and Being Very Busy, and when we’re not doing those things we like to Sit on the Couch. I feel badly that we have waited this long to see the neighbor play music, because we intend to be more supportive. We trade dog-sitting and watch each other’s homes and trade food and things; we should see him play music, too.

And now that we’ve finally seen him play music, I feel badly that we’ve waited this long, because he’s very good! I was very impressed. The Adrian Zavala Band played at Khon’s, which is a little (little!) coffee shop/bar in the Little Vietnam area of southwest downtown Houston. It was a neat little place – basic but with some good offerings ($2 Lone Star draft!), and the sense to book Adrian.

Adrian Zavala

Adrian claims to encompass “Duke Ellington meets Bad Brains”, whatever that means. I was pretty well entranced by the music. It’s a three-piece band – Adrian sings and plays guitar, along with a bassist and a drummer (um, sorry, I think I caught their names but they don’t seem to be available to me just now). I should say that I’m not a musician or a music critic; but I appreciate music, and I like to try to understand how it all comes together. Adrian’s music really spoke to me; it had me reliving old memories seemingly unrelated to the songs I was hearing. I don’t know how to explain that, but I find it obvious (to me at least) that sound is second only to smell in its mnemonic abilities – the ability to take us back in time, to tap into specific memories.

Adrian’s a pretty talented guitar player. I was trying to watch his feet to see what he was doing with the pedals; but most of what I normally think of as pedal effects he was doing with just the strings. (I cannot do this justice. See above comment re: me not being a music critic.) They performed only original music; and each song was satisfying long and complex with lots of bridges (is that right?). Guitar and bass both got to play around and show off some skills. It was fun! I would dance next time, if there were room, and if I were to be perhaps not the only person dancing??

I was musing about the comfort we find in familiarity. At one point one song diverged into a little bit of Rush, and I found myself smiling – not because it’s my favorite music (meh) but because I recognized it. But I loved the original music! I would rather hear original music (at least by Adrian; not necessarily by the next guy!) than Rush. So why smile? I think familiarity makes us comfortable; it makes us smile. I may have been imagining things, but I looked around and thought everybody else was smiling at it, too. I was thinking about the Heights mystery I finished recently, Murder on the Boulevard, which I ended up really enjoying. While not the height (ha) of literary achievement, it was a perfectly fun read; but I think it was heightened (now I’m having fun) by the familiarity of the setting. I think we all enjoy reading (or listening to, or…) things that reference our hometown, home neighborhood, etc. Familiarity is relaxing. And yet, it’s important to get out of our comfort zones, too, in the pursuit of happiness and lots of Other Things.

I’m so glad I got out of the house 🙂 AND our comfort zone, to see some live music. We don’t do enough of that. Thanks Adrian for the performance; hopefully there will be lots more, maybe even in a bigger venue that allows for me moving to the music! Although really Khon’s is a charming little place, I think this band could use more.

just a little musing (little a-musing?)

I was intrigued to read today’s post from Thomas at My Porch about grammar (oh woe) because I was also going to make a language comment in today’s post. Mine is not a complaint, though, more of a musing.

One of my favorite bands is the Drive-by Truckers. The Husband and I are a little bit fanatical about them, in fact. This morning on the way to work I was blessed by the iPod which gave me “Thank God for the TVA”, a Truckers song that was written and performed by Jason Isbell who is no longer in the band. So, we don’t get to see it played live. 😦 But I did hear it in the car, and I love it. Here, I found you this recording of it.

The line I’m most concerned with right now says is, “I wanted her to want me so bad it hurt.” I notice some ambiguity here. Let’s use parentheses in the mathematical way: he could mean “I wanted her (to want me) so bad it hurt.” Or he could mean “I wanted her (to want me so badly it hurt).” Does he want, so badly that it hurts, for her to want him? Or does he want for her desire for him to be painful? (I’m leaving aside the grammatical wrongness of “so bad it hurts” – should be “so badly” – but I can appreciate the southern flavor it gives.) This is the same ambiguity we see in pronoun use such as “Maria gave her mother the card, and her eyes sparkled.” Because Maria and her mother are both female, “her” is ambiguous. Whose eyes sparkled? Maria’s, or her mother’s? I think ambiguity in language is generally a problem. If I came across a sentence like the one I just made up in a book I would be frustrated. The purpose of language, after all, is to communicate.

But I guess there are exceptions to my statements, that language is solely a tool of communication, and that ambiguity is frustrating. Because the above line in the song is poetry; it’s beautiful; and the meaning of the sentence works both ways. I appreciate it. I’m okay with the ambiguity; in fact it adds to the song and, what do I know, may even have been purposeful. When is language not just about communication? When you’re passing the time, when you’re trying to look busy, when you like to hear the sound of your own voice, when you’re stalling, when you’re trying to get something you want without someone else noticing they gave it to you. Etc. But also, when it’s poetry. I think Jason Isbell is a poet, and he’s brought us our musing of the day. Thank you Drive-by Truckers.