hella mega, btdubbs

birthday strudel, yo

ok, deal with this:

first, a cup of jet fuel with half and half (ie, coffee, to you non-austin coffee drinkers-the independence coffee co here in tx)

followed by a melon with strawberries and orange wedges in a fine ceramic bowl.

then a salad. endive and romaine. handmade dressing.

later, much, a plate centered with couscous au whatnot (garlic, wasabi, secret things) covered by a wine and cream mushroom sauce--make that, slathered-- too many mushrooms by far.

followed by? a handmade, messup-UP, totally APPLE'd strudel... but havent had that yet.

all's i can tell ya is,

;)


it's my birthday.

all that and the sounds of the happy sunday ghetto: rooster, dogs, screaming children, gawdawful ice cream trucks, and 80s powerpop raging next door. [sigh] all in all, a great birthday.

except for the fact of course that i have an insane concussion.

but at least we made delicious food at home in our pajamas today. that was rad. and we sang. and we talked and hung out. and so on. you make what you can out of what you have. that's called stone soup. look up the book.

a very good birthday, nonetheless. this year i plan to include more full-spectrum truth.

west bank

rose and morris cooper, my paternal great grandparents. apparently nothing was spoken of morris by his daughter sylvia, according to her son, my dad: she never said anything. he died when she was nine.

i know that sylvia, my paternal grandmother was then raised by a mother she was very very close to, pictures of them on the cape in the sun as a girl, in a striped swimsuit and curly hair. rose was her roommate in a cold water flat up the road from radcliff college in 19 hundred something, when girls only went to radcliff, and they couldnt afford any other lodging. radcliff was the female harvard, and my aunt judy went there as well.

my dad went to UT back when there was still undergrad housing at the corner of guadeloupe and 28th? maybe, and he and brad blanton met, and jon noetzel. they were of course bad boys of a sort, and hugely scathingly intellectual, pot-smoking fellas. look 'em up.

but rose? she saw her daughter through the four years and into a library science degree---do you know what degrees were offered back then for girlies? sylvia was a genuis, like all the women and men in my family. they were just very very clever folk. dont know what happened to me.

goose frabbah

artist to be found here stephanie did the artwork that will be the cover of the next record, minstrel's daughter. you can see the painting over on the "stuff" page and on myspace. collect her while you still can ;)

third person omniscient

"little did he know...'

[dot dot dot]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hip2i9yHZ38

hmmhmnh.

;)

here sumthin:

From “Metropolitan Diary” in the New York Times (28Jul08):



Dear Diary:



One morning in Brooklyn on the Jay Street subway platform, I stood waiting for the train and watching families returning from church in their Sunday best.



Through the crowd came a very tall woman in a big yellow hat. She was holding the hand of a man who appeared to be her son. She looked to be in her 60s and he in his 30s. The man appeared to be developmentally disabled, and they walked slowly.



Suddenly, the man began to have an attack of some kind. He was convulsing and yelling. People began to stare and step away.



With not a moment’s pause, the woman calmly took in a long, deep breath and, pulling her son’s head to her chest, began to sing the most beautiful gospel song. As she swayed back and forth, her son was comforted and became quiet.



The crowd gathered until she was done, and applause broke out at the end. I will never forget the moment, her incredible voice and the inspiring way to turn an upsetting moment completely around.


by Rebekah Brooks


normal's good. what's your def?

family style

all the folks from d/fw and beyond... love and happy holidays and everything ;)















and here's will's holidaze greetings from his studio:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AuLM9eLLDfs

...and one from a long time ago, fdr, great-uncle jimmy allred and lbj hangin and smilin... i just found this on someone else's myspace page, man you have to go far to come across a family photo these days.

unstrung

talked to aaron tonight. its as cold here as it is in nyc. thats just mean.

he went to see a movie tonight, about pat martino's life. aside from being arguably one of the best living jazz guitarists, what a story! what a life.



here he hammers it with john scofield:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p2RRUVAD9Mc



amazing, to live. and esp, survive.