We’ve been here before. Friday the 13th is my birthday (surely you don’t suffer from paraskevidekatriaphobia).
I thought it would be great because, after all of this time, that is the day we finally are scheduled to upload Last Farm Standing on Buttermilk Hill: Voelcker Roots Run Deep in Hardberger Park to the printers. Getting a 240-page book on the press should be something to celebrate, but my birthday looks more like gloom and doom. (Click here to help me now.)
Law enforcement officers are picking me up and locking me away in The Vault on August 12 as part of the MDA (Muscular Dystrophy Association) Lock-Up. While some of my friends have shown their generosity and compassion, others seem to have their hands stuck in their pockets, meaning I have not yet raised my required bail – $2,000. (Click here to help me now.)
Fearing I might not be able to secure the funds to get out, I thought I better hatch a back-up plan. Jail break. Zinc and Boudro’s are donating a last meal to all of MDA’s prisoners. Maybe I can find a way to surreptitiously slip my utensils under my bra (Ow!). (Click here to donate now.)
I asked Ronnie of Zinc Bistro to show me where I would prefer to spend my sentence, next door and the floor below. The wine cellar. If I could just tunnel from The Vault into Zinc’s wine cellar, I would be content to stay imprisoned for life. (If I can tunnel into the wine cellar, you don’t have to give a penny.)
But then Ronnie took me up to The Vault where I will be locked up. He laughed cruelly as he showed me the thickness of the door on the huge safe, and said all four walls, the ceiling and, unfortunately, the floor are the same thickness. No way I’ll be able to dig out of there with a knife and fork. There is no escape. (Click here to help me escape now.)
And, hey, I’ll take Friday the 13th over any Monday.
Update on August 12: The police car came and took me away, but, thanks, thanks and more thanks to a rather philanthropic hand of followers (who did, however, make me sweat it out until the last minute, but all’s well that ends well), I served no time. Enjoyed the bountiful spread contributed to the incarcerated by Zinc and Boudro’s, but particularly enjoyed one of “the secrets from the cellar” one of the owners shared with me: JC Cellars 2005 The Imposter, a 92 on Wine Spectator described as:
As exotic as it is potent, with deep blackberry liqueur, sandalwood and wild game aromas and rich, ripe cassis, blueberry and licorice flavors that power on toward the bold, spicy finish. Zinfandel, Mourvedre, Petite Sirah and Syrah.
And, best of all, I will be free to drink again tomorrow on my birthday.
It’s no secret I am upset by the overabundance of illegal signs in the Alamo Plaza Historic District. But sometimes you are so pestered by fleas you fail to notice the Tyrannosaurus rex coming up behind you.
proposed life-size Alamo to hang next to the grounds of the Alamo itself
Well, this one happens to be 134-feet tall, and the staff of the city’s Historic Preservation Office has no problem with it hanging adjacent to the Alamo grounds for six or seven months. Perhaps they were swayed because the application to install the banner on the Emily Morgan Hotel is coming from the caretakers of the Alamo itself, none other than the Daughters of the Republic of Texas, who brought us an earlier tasteful banner installation and a pop-up tent.
Now, I don’t know about you, but I have trouble understanding why a 2 1/2-story image of the Alamo needs to be installed within 1/2 block of the actual Alamo. Is this new Alamo going to be bigger and better than the real one?
If the members of the Historic Design and Review Commission decide to follow staff’s recommendation and let this Behemoth banner sail through on the consent agenda at the August 4th meeting, I hope they at least attach a recycling amendment. The used banner could be donated to the Women’s Pavilion; a banner that size would make a lot of tote bags. Or probably more appropriately, the banner could be recycled to protect the Alamo roof from water seepage. That way, the Daughters would not have to worry about increasing their preservation budget to anything above the three-digit numbers of the past several years.
P.S. Sarah Reveley has started posting photographs showcasing Alamo Plaza intrusions on a new website.
P.S.S. I would worry more about the tasteful banner on Main Plaza Ben Olivo posted earlier, but guess we should not stop to scratch a flea when a T-rex is barreling this way.
Update on August 4: With instructions to lose the Emily Morgan logo, ditch the Convention and Visitors Bureau’s “Deep in the Heart” campaign image and send the little figures scurrying around the bottom of the banner – the ones that look like Mexican toy soldiers racing to escape the gift shop – packing, the Daughters of the Republic of Texas received approval for a scaled-down, 80-foot-tall banner to be hung on a historic landmark in a historic district for seven months.
The purpose of having a larger Alamo hanging next door to the real Alamo remains unclear after listening to the continually shifting explanations. When the presenters realized the concept of advertising the Alamo (and thanking the Emily Morgan) to motorists on the highway was sounding exactly like a super-sized billboard to those sitting in judgment, the banner instead became an educational tool to inspire awe in pedestrians. Bruce Winders, PhD, the Alamo’s historian and curator, said it would make children realize the Alamo is important and even labeled the banner “art.” Tony Caridi, the Alamo’s director of development who designed the banner, might have beamed with pride, if not for board member Harry Shafer’s suggestion that it should then also go before the Public Art Board for review.
Caridi expressed his opinion that curtailing the size of the banner would make it look more like a sign. It will not look more like a sign, it will just look like a slightly smaller sign with slightly less square footage than two highway-size billboards, still representing a major visual intrusion in the Alamo Plaza Historic District.
Despite being told by one of Davy Crockett’s descendants that a 13-story banner is what Davy would want, four board members dared to stand fast behind the newly revised Unified Development Code passed by City Council only this summer. But, alas, the code was no more effective a shield than the crumbling Alamo walls in 1836. They were outnumbered. The banner will hang.
As for the banner’s future life, Caridi said they were lifting my earlier suggestion, which I lifted from the Women’s Pavilion, and plan to recycle the banner into tote bags to sell in the gift shop. Guess he did not like the suggestion to recycle it as a rain bonnet for the Alamo roof.
Update on August 5: Scott Huddleston of the Express-News on the shrunken banner:
Caridi and Bruce Winders, Alamo historian, said the banner would send a statement to visitors and locals that the landmark anniversary of Texas independence offers an exciting occasion to revisit true stories of the past.
“It’s the opportunity to say the Texas Revolution isn’t just a movie. It isn’t just John Wayne,” Winders said.
Now, when I first read about the theme for the Daughters of the Republic of Texas’ 175th Anniversary Gala, my thought was it was a guaranteed success. But Dr. Winders’ statement confuses me greatly because the caretakers are centering much of the celebration on guess what? John Wayne’s role in The Alamo.
To set the record straight, the following is lifted directly from the Daughters’ website:
Honoring the 50th Anniversary of John Wayne’s movie “The Alamo”. The sixth Alamo Gala will be held under the Texas stars on Alamo Plaza. All proceeds will go toward preservation, education, and maintenance of The Alamo Complex.
Silent and Live Auctions; Colonial Menu of appetizers and buffet dinner; Music and dancing to St. Vincent and the Grenadines featuring a custom arrangement of music from the score of the movie.
Reel History: John Wayne’s Alamo 50th Anniversary Exhibition will premiere the evening of the Gala. The exhibition will feature movie memobriila from around the nation including items from the DRT Library, John Wayne Enterprises private collection, and other collectors. Organized by John Farkis and Dr. Bruce Winders, Alamo Historian, the exhibit will be free to the public beginning October 10 – December 31, 2010.
Now I understand. Since the exhibit housed in the Alamo compound will focus on the movie The Alamo, the Daughters of the Republic of Texas need a really, really, really big – a Behemoth – banner to try to remind people that, despite the exhibit on the movie they are showcasing, “the Texas Revolution isn’t just a movie. It isn’t just John Wayne.”
2nd Update on August 5: Read the statement Rollette Schreckinghost, the president of the San Antonio Conservation Society, read at HDRC in opposition to the banner.
3rd Update on August 5: And on KTSA Radio, Rolette Schreckenghost said:
Goodness knows I’m a native and I’ve never lived anywhere but San Antonio, but I don’t need a sign to remind me to remember the Alamo…. It’s the cultural integrity of San Antonio that people come to see.
A Milam descendant and, according to Veronica Flores-Paniagua, former Alamo committee chairman for the DRT weighs in on the issue.
Update on August 7: Veronica Flores-Paniagua of the Express-News questions the appropriateness of Caridi’s banner design: “Why didn’t the DRT see that?”
I keep wondering how in the world the DRT will possibly handle the potentially explosive land mines involved in mounting the 50th anniversary exhibit centering on The Alamo. How will the DRT distinguish “real” from “reel” with appropriate respect for historical accuracy? The banner does not seem like it is going to help; the curators have their work cut out for them.
Update on August 12: Revised on August 13 following article in the Express-News (Didn’t mean to jump the gun. I think sometimes a request accompanied by a please receives more positive results than immediate escalation to threats of legal action.):
The sound of Davy Crockett’s lone fiddle echoing from the ramparts of the wall around the Alamo will be multiplied _________________________________________ as part of the Daughters of the Republic of Texas’ celebration of the 175th anniversary of the battle, ______________ _________ _________, maybe this will encourage a round-up and removal of all illegal signage prior to focusing that much national and perhaps international media attention on the plaza.
Hey, I just barely escaped the MDA jail yesterday.
Update on August 14: The DRT does now have an image on its website promoting a March 5th “Symphony Concert.” So that part is official and those who mention it need no longer fear legal action.
Update on August 15: Something was nagging me. Personally, my concern is the proliferation of signage in the Alamo Plaza Historic District, not the anniversary celebration itself. But somehow I remembered reading about the anniversary concert earlier. Was Sarah Reveley really the one to spill the beans, or did someone else? The following is from a July 6 article in the Dallas Morning News:
Caridi said that the Alamo’s operations were not threatened by the current lull, but that new programs and offerings could be scratched.
He said it has been difficult, for instance, persuading corporate sponsors to come on board for a nearly $400,000 concert being planned for next year’s 175th anniversary of the famous battle at the Alamo.
2nd Update on August 15: Was struck by this photograph by Matt Wright-Steele to accompany the Observer’s article “Davy Crockett Tried to Trim his Myth, but It Grew Back.” But, on the other hand, I also loved one of the online comments submitted by J. Norton-Keidel:
My family history includes the story that when Davy Crockett came to East Texas, wearing a black stovepipe hat, en route he stayed with our family. Legend is Crockett admired the coonskin hat worn by a young man of the household and offered to trade his black hat plus a gold piece for the young man’s coonskin hat. The deal was struck and thus historical tableaus guaranteed!
What’s real and what’s reel, and how does one ever distinguish myth from reality?
Update on August 28:
Weel, blude’s thicker than water; she’s welcome to the cheeses and the hams just the same.
Sir Walter Scott, Guy Mannering, 1815
Checked on membership requirements this morning. As someone not from Texas, I always thought your proof of revolutionary bloodline was all that was needed to qualify for membership in the Daughters of the Republic of Texas. But ancestry is the secondary half of the requirements for admission into the sisterhood of approximately 6,700. While the organization professes to encourage “anyone with a love of Texas history to join us in celebrating and preserving this heritage,” the first part of its requirements is that a woman “is personally acceptable to The DRT.”
According to the San Antonio Express-News this morning, the Daughters officially are disowning the Texas Centennial-obsessed, Alamobsessed, whistle-blowing daughter they wish they never had, Sarah Reveley – a rather late-term abortion. Sarah is now severely sentenced to endure shunning by many of her former siblings for the rest of her life. Never having been in a sorority, I am unsure how this would affect one.
But do I believe banishment is an Alamoment for Sarah? Don’t think so. She is too busy dedicating her energies to tracking down missing monuments dating from the celebration of the Texas Centennial.
You might question why I inserted the second part of Scott’s quotation, with good reason. When I was looking for the meaning, I turned to the primary source. It is hardly applicable. But in wandering randomly through Guy Mannering, I found another reference to cheese with a footnoted explanatory text relating to small-town life that I loved more than Scott’s writing:
The groaning malt mentioned in the text was the ale brewed for the purpose of being drunk after the lady or goodwife’s safe delivery. The ken-no has a more ancient source, and perhaps the custom may be derived from the secret rites of the Bona Dea. A large and rich cheese was made by the women of the family, with great affectation of secrecy, for the refreshment of the gossips who were to attend at the ‘canny’ minute. This was the ken-no, so called because its existence was secret (that is, presumed to be so) from all the males of the family, but especially from the husband and master. He was accordingly expected to conduct himself as if he knew of no such preparation, to act as if desirous to press the female guests to refreshments, and to seem surprised at their obstinate refusal. But the instant his back was turned the ken-no was produced; and after all had eaten their fill, with a proper accompaniment of the groaning malt, the remainder was divided among the gossips, each carrying a large portion home with the same affectation of great secrecy.
Update on September 24: I felt Jan Jarboe Russell stayed so completely on the tightrope without tipping either direction in her Texas Monthly article about recent issues involving the Daughters of the Republic of Texas and the Alamo that I was left blogless. The headline was the most sensational part of the article. Shows it all depends on your perspective.
According to a thread posted on Texas Centennial, the Daughters viewed the article differently:
THE DAUGHTERS OF THE REPUBLIC OF TEXAS
HEADQUARTERS & MUSEUM COMMITTEE MINUTES September 15, 2010
DRT Headquarters Board Room
Austin, Texas
President General’s Remarks:
An expulsion hearing is set for October 29th for Sarah Reveley, DRT member.
Regarding the Texas Monthly article concerning the Daughters, the author had spent a full day at the Alamo seeing and hearing about all the good things happening at the Alamo, but he chose not to include the positive notes.
Although, when Jan spent a whole day at the Alamo, seems they might have noticed she’s a woman.
And, to further blur the line between reel and real, the DRT, the Alamo and IMAX are partnering to bring John Wayne’s The Alamo to a theater near you on Friday, October 8. Click here to get $1.50 off your ticket.
So many choices for early morning walks: head downtown and loop around the bend or continue north to the locks and dam. Since this spring and early summer, I have been increasingly drawn southward by the wildflowers blooming along the river’s banks and the water birds hunting for their breakfast of crawdads. After dining, they always neatly arrange a pair of leftover claws on the sidewalk as evidence of their fishing prowess.
I like to walk about 70 minutes or so, and Eagleland is not quite long enough. If you are familiar with the area, you probably know where I head after passing under the railroad tracks….
I’m never the first one. Almost as soon as the work crew leaves in the afternoon, southsiders eager for their stretch of the River Improvements Project to be finished begin to mash down the flimsy orange webbing meant to discourage access to the new pathways skirting the river’s edge. By the time I arrive in the morning, it and its “keep out” message are flat on the ground, easily ignored.
But, until now, no one has uttered a peep about the largest environmental art installation. The mainstream media certainly has missed this boat. Supposedly, this artist is currently focused on gaining permission to suspend fabric over almost six miles of the Arkansas River, but the following photograph stands as evidence he stealthily slipped into San Antonio to execute a piece reminiscent of his earlier works. According to the website of the artist and his late wife:
Wrapped Power Plant, rumored to be the work of Christo, on the Mission Reach of the San Antonio River Improvements Project.
The last time an idea for a wrapping came out of their heads and hearts was in 1975, when they had the idea of wrapping the Pont Neuf in Paris, and then it took them ten years to get the permits.
Remember, you saw it here first, and you should be so grateful to Postcards from San Antonio for giving you the inside scoop that you will not fail to bail Gayle out of jail!
Update on August 28: Access to the first phase of the Mission Reach is delayed by typical gardening woes – weeds growing like weeds. Hopefully the city will use part of this time to round up the stray dogs hanging around entrances to the sidewalks as though thugs hired to guard the paths from impatient pedestrians, runners and bikers prematurely breaching the flimsy orange netting.
Update on September 4: Not sure the artwork is finished yet, but inspected Mark Schlesinger’s painted crowns on the crenulated footbridge this morning. It brought back memories of sitting on the floor with a luxurious new box of 64 Crayolas confronted with a coloring book seemingly demanding monochrome castle walls. Nothing to do but rebel and color each crenulation a different shade plucked from the box. Same sort of satisfaction as giving a Barbie doll a dramatic haircut, except no one would punish me afterwards.
Mark Schlesinger adds color, texture and elements of surprise to his footbridge project, “Up On the On.” Up On The On integrates a repeating pattern of painted, textured rocks alongside natural river rocks. Schlesinger uses the same polymer stucco material he used in the Museum Reach and seeks to combine the urban with the natural. “When, for instance, this urban bridge begins to emerge from a natural flood, it will do so with a colorful, visual softness.” That softness, Schlesinger says, makes a strong statement, without overpowering the forces of nature. Several of the blocks will also glow softly at night.
I found myself wishing his gaudy colors had been applied instead to the giant support columns under the interstate, distracting us like Donald Lipski’s “F.I.S.H.” The thundering echo of cars and trucks zooming overhead also made me wish it were possible to move Bill Fontana’s “Sonic Passages” there as well.
In both the Museum and Mission reaches, Schlesinger’s work leaves me cold, but, of course, a major role of public art is to stimulate thinking, reaction and conversation. And his work achieves that or I would not be blogging about it.
Update on September 12: Amazed at how many people of all ages were out on the Mission Reach at dusk and after dark on Saturday night – many on bicycles. People are ready, even though the plantings are not, even though the banks seem moonscaped more than landscaped.
We were down there because we finally got around to experiencing G&G Mobile Bistro, tracking them southward to 116 West Mitchell, tucked away behind Boneshakers. Parking is limited, but, as half the customers seemed to arrive by bike, that presents no real problem.
Shaded by trees, the new location offers a sweeping view of the river’s voluptuous new curves in the Mission Reach. Once we have something growing, this could actually turn into the prettiest spot along the river’s course through Bexar County and is ideally positioned to catch the evening breeze from the south.
We went out back and ordered the five featured courses for $14, no choices to make. What’s on the blackboard is what you get. Then we went in to grab a not great, but very inexpensive, bottle of wine from Boneshakers, which boasts a pretty impressive beer selection.
Arriving at 7:45, just in time to secure prime seating, seating in short supply by 8:15. Don’t know how they possibly keep track of who ordered one item, three courses or all five, but, somehow our little cardboard cradles came out one at a time, each one delivered to our table precisely as we finished the course before.
The first course featured a mound of caramelized onion on brie served with croutons and slices of apples. The apples had a dose of coarsely ground pepper on them, which I wouldn’t have thought would work. It did. Next was a plastic glass filled with an acorn squash soup, bravely made without ladling in too-rich cream and unexpectedly spiked with a flavor burst or two from chunks of lime pulp. Then we were served a great little salad, followed by pork flavored with balsamic perched on perfectly herbed vegetables. Everything tasted so fresh and healthy. The only course we didn’t care for was the dessert, a flan-cake.
My husband kept repeating G&G is his new favorite restaurant. It’s the type of place you want to tell everyone about on the one hand, but realize the danger that it will soon be too popular for you to get that prime seat. Shhh….
Hope they let us return. Occurred to me on the drive home we committed a food truck faux pas. We completely forgot to return our wine and water glasses to Boneshakers, rudely left them on the table under the trees. We’ll be better next time.
Note Added on September 17: David McLemore’s take on the Mission Reach
Note Added on October 23:
After many a morning walk, I am adjusting to Mark Schlesinger’s Crayola treatment of the crenulated footbridge, but not on any sophisticated terms. I have decided to view this as a magical place for families to weave their own river-based fairy tales, to invent stories of mischievous San Antonio-bred trolls or gnomes. Or maybe they are sprites from other parts of the country, hobos who hopped off the train to dwell under the bridge. Or maybe it’s a spot to ponder philosophically with Winnie the Pooh:
Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known.
The best news is that soon we southsiders will no longer have to be “illegal trespassers” on this portion of the Mission Reach. While this stretch of the river will not officially open to the public until late November, the San Antonio River Authority’s spokesperson seems a little harsh on those of us who are eager to walk the river’s banks:
“We know people are already out there,” said Steven Schauer, a spokesman for the river authority. “Maybe we can open so people are no longer breaking the law when they are trespassing right now.”
November 16 Update: The “Christo” is now unwrapped; looked better wrapped. And the River Authority posts photos on its website showing progress along the Mission Reach.
December 30 Update: Now that the Power Plant is unwrapped, Christo is concentrating on the Arkansas River project.
Postcards from Barton Springs 