Well, I have some catchin' up to do! I was out of commission last night but am happy to report that all's well with me again.
Yesterday we took a little ride up north of Stillwater almost to the Kansas border, where we hung a right and headed east for the Osage Indian Reservation and the Tall Grass Prairie Preserve. Wow. What an incredibly beautiful place. The land on the preserve has NEVER been tilled and the nature conservacy has done a lot of work to ensure that all native plants and grasses remain intact. There's a herd of about 3,000 bison (which somehow escaped our view) and flora and fauna galore (i.e. red cheeked turtles). Lotsa birds...I wish we had a bird book. We saw a hawk sitting on a post that was at least as tall as my forearm if not larger. I will post a few photos of some of the flora.
Earlier in the day we stopped in Pawhuska, OK (just outside of the preserve) where we visited the Chamber of Commerce. While Rosemary and I talked with the informative guy inside, Peggy went outside to stretch her legs. And then she disappeared. So there we were, searching the woods behind the Chamber, the Osage Gift Shop, and any other place we could think of. No Peggy. I said to Rosemary, "Do you see a clothing store anywhere near by?" We looked and looked, but neither of us could see anything that resembled a clothing store (the only likely place she'd be, of course). About the time we decided she'd probably been abducted and we were headed across the street to the police station to file a missing person's report, we spotted her off in the distance waving her arms and motioning us to join her. She'd found a clothing store (I swear she can spot them a mile away) and needed her wallet to purchase the jeans she had just tried on (not crops, of course).
Today was a different day. We woke up in beautiful Tulsa (truly beautiful) and decided to look around the city. Tulsa is apparently known as the Buckle of the Bible Belt, so our first stop was Oral Roberts University where Peggy stood under the 60 foot bronze statue of praying hands as Rosemary and I snapped a few pictures. It's the largest bronze statue in the world. The high point of the Oral Roberts tour was the sighting of a Scissor Tailed Flycatcher, the Oklahoma state bird!
I was ready to leave town, but Rosemary insisted that we find Cain's Ballroom. I figured it'd be closed since it was mid-day, but the kind young men who own it, let us in to take a look around. What history! For those of you who don't know, Cain's Ballroom is considered the birthplace of Western Swing and a pioneering force in the history of Rock and Roll. In the early years, Cain's was headquarters for Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys. Country greats like Roy Rogers, Eddy Arnold, Johny Cash and Loretta Lynn are but a few of the talented artists to play the venue, and more recently, Willie Nelson, Melissa Ethridge, Bob Dylan, The Byrds, Dolly Parton, Jerry Lee Lewis, Bonnie Raitt, Dixie Chicks, Brooks and Dunn, Vanilla Ice, Eric Clapton, Great Divide, No Justice, Cross Canadian Ragweed...well, you get the picture.
For me though, it was a bittersweet experience to walk through the ballroom where Marc and Josh and put together the Red Dirt Music Awards and concert. I could imagine him there, in his jeans and boots, running around and getting things organized. Chad, one of the two brothers who run Cain's remembered Marc right away. He told me it was the longest show they'd ever had. It started at around 3 in the afternoon and ran until 2:00 a.m. Thirty bands played. It was quite an undertaking--and even moreso because both Marc and Josh lived out of state (Josh in Kansas, and Marc in Seattle) and had never met in person! To top it off, neither had ever done anything like this...and it turned out to be quite a success. Thank you, Rosemary! I'm so glad we stopped.
When we finally left Tulsa, we drove down Highway 75, then hooked onto the Choctaw-Chickasaw Trail of Tears Memorial Highway (formerly Highway 70) through some of the most magnificient scenery I've ever seen. I thought about my dad when we crossed the Red River (he was always singing "Red River Valley"). Tonight we are about 300 miles north east of Austin in the charming little town of Mt. Vernon, Tx.
Well, that's about it for me tonight. My laptop battery is nearly drained so it must be time for me to go to bed. Thanks for reading our blog. We love your comments!
--Kathy
p.s. Our "high speed" internet connection isn't so speedy so I'll have eto wait until tomorrow to post pics. Until then....
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Minority Report
I have held my tongue 'til now but I can no longer remain silent. I have no quibble with the veracity of Ms. Peggy Lou's reports on our daily adventures, but her so-called fashion crusade cannot go unchallenged. I am, of course, speaking of her tirade against the functional and comfortable crop pant. Mind you, I spoke to her of my pain at having my own personal choice of attire derided in the semi-public space of this blog. She was shocked, for she had not noticed that I had been wearing a pair of bright pink crop pants for two days. Now, I must ask you, just how committed to her cause can she be if she didn't notice I was wearing them? Bright pink, I remind you; bright pink!!
That said, I feel emboldened to depart on my own fashion rant. I am talking about low riders. I have seen just about all the muffin tops and butt cracks I can stand. It's time for a change.
That is all,
r2
That said, I feel emboldened to depart on my own fashion rant. I am talking about low riders. I have seen just about all the muffin tops and butt cracks I can stand. It's time for a change.
That is all,
r2
Paris, Texas (The movie)
Correction on the movie "Paris, Texas". While it is one of Sam Shepard's, it was made in 1984. Roger Ebert (and I paraphrase) says its content belongs more in the films made 15 years earlier, films such as Midnight Cowboy and Five Easy Pieces. Cybil Shepperd is not in the film. If you want to read some good plays, read Sam Shepard. Try "Fool for Love".
Somewhere Outside of Paris, Texas
We are staying tonight in a town outside of Paris, Texas, in a Super 8 at $49.00/night (!). The town is proud of its history. We're visiting their museum tomorrow morning. We had dinner at their cafe a couple of hours ago and it was superb. I had catfish, collard greens, and a scoop of broccoli/rice/cheese casserole. This was my first meal with collard greens and they were delicious. The waitress was semi-horrified that I asked about having a beer. She said that no one asks for that at dinner, that she is not especially opposed to it, it's just that, well, no one has ever asked before. I asked in Stillwater if they offered wine with dinner and they said "no". I will find that in Austin, certainly.
I love Tulsa. It's such a pretty city, with interesting architecture, not much of that modern stuff that is so uninspiring. The Arkansas River runs through the town. We had a great room, a suite actually, with lots of space. This morning we went to Cain's Ballroom, where Marc and Josh held the Red Dirt concert and awards a couple of years ago. The family that is running it removed the drop ceiling, exposing these terrific rafters. Kathy and I bought t-shirts. But the best news is that one of the guys who runs Cain's remembered Marc and Josh. The place is lined with pictures of those who have played Cains and I was surprised to find that I recognized many of the names. Bob Dylan played there. Dweezil Zappa, Frank's son, plays there in August. I saw Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention with my brother Bill in 1970. We met Frank Zappa backstage and Bill said something that made Frank Zappa laugh.
About Paris, Texas. There's a movie that took place there, circa 1971, I believe. I think Sam Sheppard was either in it or wrote the screenplay and I think Cybil Shepperd may have been in it. I started watching the movie a couple of months ago, then stopped. It seems to me it's one of those 1970's bleak movies where filmdom was experimenting with heavier themes. It never went away. The first bleak theme movie I saw was Midnight Cowboy where I had to argue to get into the theatre, at age 17. I watched it a few months ago and think it was a good film for its time, although there was some confusion around a couple of themes (reviewers had those same confusions). But that film dealt with alienation, leaving home, fringe jackets, and other things that must happen but are hard when you're faced with them. I have never had a fringe jacket, but I did have a leather fringe purse in 1969. But don't get me started.
Tomorrow, after we visit the museum, we'll head to Austin. I have a morning yoga class on Friday. This part of the trip, where we traced Marc's steps, has been a true success, with everything falling into place. We couldn't have asked for more.
If, this weekend, it is cold in Seattle and you are looking for a great movie, rent the dvd "Notes on a Scandal". It stars Cate Blanchett and Judi Dench in excellent performances. Judi Dench is the consummate narcissist, so that's lots of fun. Cate Blanchett is good in everything she does. The movie is only around 90 minutes, thank heavens.
I've had 5 days away from writing my book and have solved a couple of major problems with it by simply reflecting, mile after mile, as we drive. My decisision is to write in a relationship between mother and daughter, something I've tried to avoid. But it's a missing piece, one that the protagonist comments on. It's a major step to add the relationship, and means not only writing but re-arranging my book. I'm up for it, though.
That's it from here.
I love Tulsa. It's such a pretty city, with interesting architecture, not much of that modern stuff that is so uninspiring. The Arkansas River runs through the town. We had a great room, a suite actually, with lots of space. This morning we went to Cain's Ballroom, where Marc and Josh held the Red Dirt concert and awards a couple of years ago. The family that is running it removed the drop ceiling, exposing these terrific rafters. Kathy and I bought t-shirts. But the best news is that one of the guys who runs Cain's remembered Marc and Josh. The place is lined with pictures of those who have played Cains and I was surprised to find that I recognized many of the names. Bob Dylan played there. Dweezil Zappa, Frank's son, plays there in August. I saw Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention with my brother Bill in 1970. We met Frank Zappa backstage and Bill said something that made Frank Zappa laugh.
About Paris, Texas. There's a movie that took place there, circa 1971, I believe. I think Sam Sheppard was either in it or wrote the screenplay and I think Cybil Shepperd may have been in it. I started watching the movie a couple of months ago, then stopped. It seems to me it's one of those 1970's bleak movies where filmdom was experimenting with heavier themes. It never went away. The first bleak theme movie I saw was Midnight Cowboy where I had to argue to get into the theatre, at age 17. I watched it a few months ago and think it was a good film for its time, although there was some confusion around a couple of themes (reviewers had those same confusions). But that film dealt with alienation, leaving home, fringe jackets, and other things that must happen but are hard when you're faced with them. I have never had a fringe jacket, but I did have a leather fringe purse in 1969. But don't get me started.
Tomorrow, after we visit the museum, we'll head to Austin. I have a morning yoga class on Friday. This part of the trip, where we traced Marc's steps, has been a true success, with everything falling into place. We couldn't have asked for more.
If, this weekend, it is cold in Seattle and you are looking for a great movie, rent the dvd "Notes on a Scandal". It stars Cate Blanchett and Judi Dench in excellent performances. Judi Dench is the consummate narcissist, so that's lots of fun. Cate Blanchett is good in everything she does. The movie is only around 90 minutes, thank heavens.
I've had 5 days away from writing my book and have solved a couple of major problems with it by simply reflecting, mile after mile, as we drive. My decisision is to write in a relationship between mother and daughter, something I've tried to avoid. But it's a missing piece, one that the protagonist comments on. It's a major step to add the relationship, and means not only writing but re-arranging my book. I'm up for it, though.
That's it from here.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Leaving Stillwater
We left Stillwater this morning, heading for the Tall Grass Prairie Reserve, which promised bison and beautiful plains. It delivered on the latter. I was never one for Little House on the Prairie, couldn't find the beauty in it (too much gingham), but now am a plainslover. The land had never been tilled so we were looking at the land as the pioneers saw it. It was hot and the bugs were buzzing, and privileged individual that I am, I thought there should be a restaurant to go along with it. We drove for hours and didn't find a restaurant. I longed for a glass of wine and all I could find was tropical sugar water in a plastic bottle. We finally hit Tulsa and drove along the Arkansas River, finding restaurant row and landing in a noisy place. I ordered a chicken sandwich that was delicious and ate a few of Kathy's french fries. Those are some high-standard french fries.
Kathy is suffering from one of those unparallelled headaches plus upset stomach. We found a hotel suite in Tulsa that has a good air conditioning system and lots of space. It's dark and quiet here. She just asked me to turn *down* the air conditioning, something I have never heard from her. Tulsa is a lovely city, very pretty, very clean. Their downtown area was person-free at 6:30 this evening, all sidewalks rolled up. That suggests balance. We want to see Cain's tomorrow, the venue where Marc and Josh held the Red Dirt concert and award show. There are a number of yoga studios in Tulsa, surprisingly many, and I may get to squeeze in a little stretch.
Two individuals have registered dissenting votes on the crop pant issue. They will remain unnamed except Rosemary, who has confessed to bringing along a couple of pairs. She tells me that she has actually worn one pair, which were perhaps a little on the long side. Kathy said, "Those? I thought they were floods." Rosemary is a little nervous about some supposed judgement that may be coming her way from me. I think that I have been only fair in my discussion of crop pants. The Other Person who has dissented has registered her opinion in the comment section of yesterday's blog. I know who she is, although she has tried to remain anonymous. I can only say to her the famous line from the famous song: You know you love it, cause it makes you feel good.
I want to point out to the women of America that the men of American are following them in their crop pants wearing habit. Yes, I have seen several men wearing crop pants. I see a parallel to the Eve bites the apple then offers it to Adam story. Then let's advance a few thousand years and note that none of the more prominent disciples wore crop pants. No one of any significant importance has done a noteworthy act wearing crop pants. Except perhaps the french.
Not to belabor the point, but let me just say that I am in the throes of designing The Ugliest Outfit in America, which includes, of course, crop pants. Here's a hint. Think three words: Reversible Turquoise Poplin.
Before leaving Seattle, I purchased something called a "life hammer". $25.00. This tool, the only tool I have ever purchased, will cut your seat belt and knock out the window of your vehicle if you go over a bridge and your car is submerged. I learned this fear while watching Oprah. I had never had this fear before. It was one of those "I can't believe I got out of this" shows where survivors from around the country told of their harrowing escapes from accidents the likes of which you could never imagine. If you're under water you can't open the door to escape and swim up because you can't open the door against the pressure of the water. You have to knock out the window. What will you use? Your credit card? Your cell phone? I think not. Brookstone sells the "life hammer".
Oklahoma is a friendly state. It's greener than I had imagined. The grasses smell sweet, the birds are different than in the Pacific Northwest, and it has been a pleasure to be here.
Austin tomorrow, more than likely. We have numerous family members of Kathy's to visit, none of whom I have met except Arleen.
Kathy is suffering from one of those unparallelled headaches plus upset stomach. We found a hotel suite in Tulsa that has a good air conditioning system and lots of space. It's dark and quiet here. She just asked me to turn *down* the air conditioning, something I have never heard from her. Tulsa is a lovely city, very pretty, very clean. Their downtown area was person-free at 6:30 this evening, all sidewalks rolled up. That suggests balance. We want to see Cain's tomorrow, the venue where Marc and Josh held the Red Dirt concert and award show. There are a number of yoga studios in Tulsa, surprisingly many, and I may get to squeeze in a little stretch.
Two individuals have registered dissenting votes on the crop pant issue. They will remain unnamed except Rosemary, who has confessed to bringing along a couple of pairs. She tells me that she has actually worn one pair, which were perhaps a little on the long side. Kathy said, "Those? I thought they were floods." Rosemary is a little nervous about some supposed judgement that may be coming her way from me. I think that I have been only fair in my discussion of crop pants. The Other Person who has dissented has registered her opinion in the comment section of yesterday's blog. I know who she is, although she has tried to remain anonymous. I can only say to her the famous line from the famous song: You know you love it, cause it makes you feel good.
I want to point out to the women of America that the men of American are following them in their crop pants wearing habit. Yes, I have seen several men wearing crop pants. I see a parallel to the Eve bites the apple then offers it to Adam story. Then let's advance a few thousand years and note that none of the more prominent disciples wore crop pants. No one of any significant importance has done a noteworthy act wearing crop pants. Except perhaps the french.
Not to belabor the point, but let me just say that I am in the throes of designing The Ugliest Outfit in America, which includes, of course, crop pants. Here's a hint. Think three words: Reversible Turquoise Poplin.
Before leaving Seattle, I purchased something called a "life hammer". $25.00. This tool, the only tool I have ever purchased, will cut your seat belt and knock out the window of your vehicle if you go over a bridge and your car is submerged. I learned this fear while watching Oprah. I had never had this fear before. It was one of those "I can't believe I got out of this" shows where survivors from around the country told of their harrowing escapes from accidents the likes of which you could never imagine. If you're under water you can't open the door to escape and swim up because you can't open the door against the pressure of the water. You have to knock out the window. What will you use? Your credit card? Your cell phone? I think not. Brookstone sells the "life hammer".
Oklahoma is a friendly state. It's greener than I had imagined. The grasses smell sweet, the birds are different than in the Pacific Northwest, and it has been a pleasure to be here.
Austin tomorrow, more than likely. We have numerous family members of Kathy's to visit, none of whom I have met except Arleen.
Monday, June 4, 2007
A Day I Wish Would Go On Forever
This was a poignant day. We met Josh, who Marc organized the Red Dirt concert and music awards with in 2003. Josh is a generous, intelligent person who filled in some of the picture of what Marc loved. We also visited The Rooster, a tavern where two members of No Justice were performing. Rosemary had the video camera going. The music is outstanding. Kathy listened intently and connected to the music and the scene and must have been thinking about Marc.
Josh took us to a bbq restaurant in Stillwater where we had what I consider to be real bbq. I had chicken and fried okra, which looks a lot like tater tots but tastes like a spicey vegetable. I also had the best white bread I've ever eaten. And we had apple cobbler which was out of this world.
There are crickets and moths all over Stillwater. The moths, which are going nuts around the lights in the parking lot of the Best Western, get you ready for the popcorn ceiling of the hotel. You look up, and there's a chaotic scene of zillions of bumps.
It's a funny thing to be watching good guitar on stage. My brother Bill, who died 18 years ago, was an excellent guitar player and I haven't been able to watch guitar performances ever since. Tonight I watched the musician's hands and I remembered Bill. I grew up in a house where Bill played guitar all the time when he wasn't drumming. Bill's music was everywhere in our house. He loved music the way Marc loved music. I don't love it the way they did, in other words, I don't have the intensity. But I'll tell you, being a teenager was about the music. In the summer of 1967, the Summer of Love as it is known, I was in our side yard in Medford and Bill brought a radio out and said, "Here's the song I've wanted you to hear. It's Light My Fire by a band called the Doors. It's the music of the future." It was the long version and we listened. He looked at me to see if I "got it". I did indeed.
Many of you have written or called about my disdain for crop pants. You, too, find disfavor with this style element. It may be that we must band together, forming a movement against the crop pant. I have always wanted to serve humanity, making the world a better place, and I wonder if where I can do this is by mobilizing an anti-crop pant movement. Would you join? I think marches and leafletting, embargos, refusals to buy, moratoriums, boycotting advertisers whose commercials are on television shows where women wear crop pants. It worked with grapes. We could burn crop pants in the town square. We can throw my two pair on top of the fire. Someone has to do something. I am designing a crop pant outfit that I will describe in a later blog, an outfit that will rile you up, fill you with horror and rage. This is something for you to look forward to.
I'm reading Vollman's "Poor People", a book where the writer went out into the world and asked people why they are poor. There are no statistics, no solutions. There's just the story of poverty and conjecture in the lives of the poor. It is excellent.
You will want to know what I wore today. I put aside the safari pants and brought out the navy blue linen slacks (new, Orvis) and an elderly red linen shirt with princess seams. The whole outfit worked. For dinner, I wore Nordstrom's DKNY jeans and an Orvis buzz-off white t-shirt, hoping to prevent moth interest. That was another hit. As far as the Orvis safari pants, I'll probably wear them to the prairie thing we're doing tomorrow. The buffalo have quite a treat in store.
Josh took us to a bbq restaurant in Stillwater where we had what I consider to be real bbq. I had chicken and fried okra, which looks a lot like tater tots but tastes like a spicey vegetable. I also had the best white bread I've ever eaten. And we had apple cobbler which was out of this world.
There are crickets and moths all over Stillwater. The moths, which are going nuts around the lights in the parking lot of the Best Western, get you ready for the popcorn ceiling of the hotel. You look up, and there's a chaotic scene of zillions of bumps.
It's a funny thing to be watching good guitar on stage. My brother Bill, who died 18 years ago, was an excellent guitar player and I haven't been able to watch guitar performances ever since. Tonight I watched the musician's hands and I remembered Bill. I grew up in a house where Bill played guitar all the time when he wasn't drumming. Bill's music was everywhere in our house. He loved music the way Marc loved music. I don't love it the way they did, in other words, I don't have the intensity. But I'll tell you, being a teenager was about the music. In the summer of 1967, the Summer of Love as it is known, I was in our side yard in Medford and Bill brought a radio out and said, "Here's the song I've wanted you to hear. It's Light My Fire by a band called the Doors. It's the music of the future." It was the long version and we listened. He looked at me to see if I "got it". I did indeed.
Many of you have written or called about my disdain for crop pants. You, too, find disfavor with this style element. It may be that we must band together, forming a movement against the crop pant. I have always wanted to serve humanity, making the world a better place, and I wonder if where I can do this is by mobilizing an anti-crop pant movement. Would you join? I think marches and leafletting, embargos, refusals to buy, moratoriums, boycotting advertisers whose commercials are on television shows where women wear crop pants. It worked with grapes. We could burn crop pants in the town square. We can throw my two pair on top of the fire. Someone has to do something. I am designing a crop pant outfit that I will describe in a later blog, an outfit that will rile you up, fill you with horror and rage. This is something for you to look forward to.
I'm reading Vollman's "Poor People", a book where the writer went out into the world and asked people why they are poor. There are no statistics, no solutions. There's just the story of poverty and conjecture in the lives of the poor. It is excellent.
You will want to know what I wore today. I put aside the safari pants and brought out the navy blue linen slacks (new, Orvis) and an elderly red linen shirt with princess seams. The whole outfit worked. For dinner, I wore Nordstrom's DKNY jeans and an Orvis buzz-off white t-shirt, hoping to prevent moth interest. That was another hit. As far as the Orvis safari pants, I'll probably wear them to the prairie thing we're doing tomorrow. The buffalo have quite a treat in store.
And now we know
We're just in from a little tavern south of OSU campus called Roosters listening to Steve Rice and Brandon Jackson (No Justice) singing and playing acoustic guitar. I totally get why Marc loved Red Dirt music. These guys are quite talented and it makes me want to start getting out and hearing live music locally. We'll definitely get to hear more in Austin, but I feel very fortunate that we were able to come to Stillwater and have such a warm reception.
Now, I must admit that I felt a bit self conscious sitting in that smoke filled room with a bunch of twenty somethings (barely), but what's 30 years or so between strangers?
Josh Quillin (aka 'Conoco Guy' - www.reddirtscene.com) met us earlier this evening and we talked over a terrific Oklahoma BBQ dinner. Josh knew Marc--in fact, they put together the First Annual Red Dirt Music Awards at Cain's Ballroom in Tulsa, OK in November of 2003. What an undertaking--more on that later. Josh brought us tee shirts from the awards show, the DVD set of the concert, and brought some gifts from the band, No Justice, including 2 CDs and an autographed photo. We finally got some insight into Red Dirt Music, that had its origins here in Stillwater with bands like the Great Divide. Some people call it Texas Country, some call it "AltCountry", folk, you name it.... Anyway, you get the picture. It's just one of those things in life that you cant categorize as black or white.
Josh and his girlfriend met us at the Rooster tonight, got a table for us all up front, and talked Steve and Brandon to let us video a bit of their performance. What a neat guy. I'm sure his folks are very proud of him--for good reason. Thank you, Josh.
Tomorrow we're getting up early (honest...I swear this time we will really do it) and are taking a day trip to the Osage Indian Reservation north of Tulsa to visit the Tall Grass Prairie Preserve, then back to Stillwater. Hope we get to have some more BBQ. That was really good. G'nite all.
--Kathy
Now, I must admit that I felt a bit self conscious sitting in that smoke filled room with a bunch of twenty somethings (barely), but what's 30 years or so between strangers?
Josh Quillin (aka 'Conoco Guy' - www.reddirtscene.com) met us earlier this evening and we talked over a terrific Oklahoma BBQ dinner. Josh knew Marc--in fact, they put together the First Annual Red Dirt Music Awards at Cain's Ballroom in Tulsa, OK in November of 2003. What an undertaking--more on that later. Josh brought us tee shirts from the awards show, the DVD set of the concert, and brought some gifts from the band, No Justice, including 2 CDs and an autographed photo. We finally got some insight into Red Dirt Music, that had its origins here in Stillwater with bands like the Great Divide. Some people call it Texas Country, some call it "AltCountry", folk, you name it.... Anyway, you get the picture. It's just one of those things in life that you cant categorize as black or white.
Josh and his girlfriend met us at the Rooster tonight, got a table for us all up front, and talked Steve and Brandon to let us video a bit of their performance. What a neat guy. I'm sure his folks are very proud of him--for good reason. Thank you, Josh.
Tomorrow we're getting up early (honest...I swear this time we will really do it) and are taking a day trip to the Osage Indian Reservation north of Tulsa to visit the Tall Grass Prairie Preserve, then back to Stillwater. Hope we get to have some more BBQ. That was really good. G'nite all.
--Kathy
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