It’s a bird. It’s a plane. OMG! Turkeys bombing the crowd ‘like sacks of wet cement!’

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.  My family does not just come to dinner; they start arriving Monday.  We party all week long, and I never have to touch the naked turkey.  My sisters generously fly in to take care of the enormous, slippery, uncooperative bird and assign the vegetables to me.  I only cooked the innards in the plastic bag inside the turkey once (an extremely stupid place to store them), but it seems seared in the family’s collective memory.

Turkeys always bring a smile to my face, though, because of that great WKRP episode that should be shown on the first day of any introductory public relations course.  The longer version on youtube is worth watching, but the link below is whittled down to 30 seconds for those of us with short attention spans:

Unfortunately, this show aired in 1978, after the grand media opening I was allowed to orchestrate for the first (and last) Fall Festival on the River Walk.   I had spent several months contacting festival organizers and attractions from throughout South Texas to send mascots and representatives to ride in an opening parade.  This was no easy task; it required much begging and pleading.  I can still hear echoes of the Cuero man’s drawling voice beginning each sentence he uttered over the phone to me with:  “Now little girl….”

This parade was a low-budget, one-barge affair.  Conflicts arose immediately.  Having majored in international relations with hopes of bringing peace to the world working at the United Nations, one would have thought college would have left me better prepared to keep peace among South Texans.  But, for some reason, the sparkling-crowned Miss South Texas was highly offended to be sentenced to ride on the same barge as Miss Vacant Lot of the World from Victoria, not to mention the rest of the barnyard on board.  Ruby Begonia, the racing turkey from Cuero, was frightening the swimming pig from Aquarena Springs…. it’s too painful to go on….

When the barge finally pulled away from the patio in front of The Kangaroo Court, I sat down on the stairs of the David Straus Memorial Footbridge, my throat parched from the tense negotiations.  I took a large gulp from the cup in my hand.  Alas, it was not beer, but a gift from the Caveman from Natural Bridge Caverns and his goat (whose name was something like Hi-Ho-Heidi-Ho?) – fresh, warm goat’s milk.

Oh, how I wished that cautionary WKRP episode had aired first.

One would think I would have been fired for this public relations fiasco, but my boss, Claire Regnier, had done something even worse to try to attract attention to Paseo del Rio in those early days when the sidewalks were often devoid of humans.  She had talked a zookeeper into bringing a hibernating alligator to ride a barge with Wendy and Captain Hook.  Ah, but it was a warm winter day.  The sun shone on the alligator’s back, and his tail soon began to twitch, then flail.  To the horror of those on the banks, Wendy shrieked and made an ungraceful leap from the barge.  No gangplank needed.

Leaving you with the turkey tribulations endured by the residents of La Conner, Washington, where they lack the wisdom of South Texans who know turkeys are for racing, and the hope you enjoy your Thanksgiving week as much as I plan to….

Update on November 21:  Following the foraging option for vegetables might get me fired from side dishes as well….

Seduced away from intellectual pursuits by the sounds of the squeezebox….

Last year during the Texas State Book Fair in Austin, my daughter and I left the Paramount Theatre inspired by the words of Margaret Atwood.  As much as I love hearing great authors muse on their writings and on the art of writing itself, this year I felt conflicted.  Why would someone have scheduled the Book Fair on the same weekend as the International Accordion Festival?

I’m weak.  The squeezebox won.

Funding woes put a little bit of a squeeze on the Accordion Festival’s schedule this year – one stage instead of two, not as many groups from distant lands, not as many good food booths – but, hey, it’s admission-free and almost in my backyard.  Missed some of the performances, but enjoyed Copper BoxOrgullo Vallenato and Debra Peters and the Love Saints.  And then there was the hometown band that blew everyone away with a sound like Brave Combo on speed – Piñata Protest.

Only hope the festival can grow back to two stages next year and does not conflict with the Texas State Book Fair.

Note Added on October 25:  The “Arty Semite” blogs about Socalled’s set, which I unfortunately missed.

Leave a Lasting Imprint

Their handprints symbolize the mark they made and, for some, continue to make on San Antonio.  The founders of the San Antonio Women’s Pavilion, which opened in time for HemisFair ’68, left their imprints in tiles designed by Ethel Wilson Harris on a back wall of the pavilion designed by architect Cyrus Wagner.  Writing in San Antonio Current, Jessica Ramos described the building:

The 12,000-square-foot, four-level building’s most eye-catching traits include the city’s tradition of masonry infused with ’60s-inpired open spaces, Mexican brick, hand-carved doors by Lynn Ford, and modulated lighting that includes skylights, clerestories, wooden grills, and Martha Mood ceramic fixtures.  One can squeeze into any nook of the building and still have a view of all of its levels.

Grassroots fundraising efforts made the original construction of the pavilion, dedicated to the contributions of the women to the world, possible.  Ramos wrote:

(Sherry Kafka) Wagner and other prominent San Antonio women, including Nellie Connally, wife of Governor John Connally, Edith McAllister, Mary Denman, Patricia Galt Steves, and Bertha Gonzalez, wife of Congressman Henry B., organized a bottom-up campaign with the intention of showcasing women’s achievements in art, science, business, and government.  They hosted coffee parties to finance the exhibition.  One coffee klatch seeded hundreds, and soon, more than 8,000 women from 49 states and 14 countries became members by donating funds — as little as $1 apiece — to build the pavilion.  What began as plans for a temporary exhibition space soon flourished with an organized wave of support.  The word-of-mouth movement attracted other organizations, which donated thousands of dollars in grants to build a permanent structure.

“You have to remember, this was before the women’s movement,” said Wagner, “this was huge.”

Today’s board of directors of the Women’s Pavilion, including Wagner, are resorting to grassroots efforts again to restore the building as part of the city’s revitalization plans for HemisFair Park.

This is late notice for one of the ways you can help this Saturday.  Drop by the AIA’s Center for Architecture at Pearl Brewery any time between 9 a.m. and 4 p.m. to help cut out bags from recycled convention banners.  According to the Express-News:

Volunteers cut the tote bag and banner patterns, created by local designer and store owner Kathleen Sommers, from the vinyl banners. Those pieces are then delivered to La Fuerza Unida, a sewing cooperative and social justice organization, to be sewn…. Last year, La Fuerza Unida sewed 206 pieces for the Women’s Pavilion.  All the items sold within two hours of the group’s first sale in November.

If it’s too late for you to go tomorrow, mark your calendar for August 21.

The colorful bags and aprons sell from $32 to $46 and represent a great fundraising tool, but, with $12 million to secure for the renovation project, more than that is needed.  So the Women’s Pavilion is looking for helping hands of another kind as well for the Artful Legacy Project.  Each donor of $500 will have a scanned image of her hand and her name engraved into a glass tile.  In collaboration with artists Gini Garcia and Kay Lorraine, the resulting wall installed adjacent to the pavilion will be illuminated at night with fiber optic lights that change colors.

The board of the Women’s Pavilion is a creative and determined one.  Current quotes member Ginger Purdy:   

Before I leave this planet, I am going to bring that building back to life.

P.S.  Don’t forget to bail Gayle out of jail!