Driving through Alamo Plaza yesterday morning, I peered through the remaining bleachers, a hangover from Fiesta, for a glimpse of the familiar blue. Could it really be gone?
The ground where the pop-up had stood for so long resembles a large, freshly-dug, unmarked grave. The spot cries out for a rest-in-peace sign, but I doubt the ever-present Alamo guard would permit the erection of one.
Magically appearing, as if to allay fears the popping-down of the pop-up is temporary, was a man with a tape measure. The Alamo groundskeeper was sizing up the plot to determine the amount of sod needed to restore it as greenspace.
The morning moment seemed out of The Wizard of Oz, the Munchkin chorus whizzing through my head:
As Coroner, I thoroughly examined her
And she’s not only merely dead,
She’s really most sincerely dead….
We thank you very sweetly for doing it so neatly
You’ve killed her so completely,
That we thank you very sweetly
It seems there should be pomp and ceremony, a service excluding prayers for resurrection; this calls for a celebration. Ah, but I guess there was one – Fiesta San Antonio.
Note Added on April 28: Remember the Trademark?
Note Added on April 30: “DRT Drive for Trademark”