Expecting That Carafe Of Hot Coffee On The Banks Of The Guadalupe

Well, for those invited to the wrap party for the Nov. 2nd music video, you will get to see something.  Carlos wanted to have a party …'cause, well, Carlos always wants to have a party.  The video isn't finished.  Hell, we still haven't shot the band performance footage.  But I spent most of today putting together a rough edit.  Maybe some time this weekend (after the “rough edit premier” tomorrow night), I'll post it online.

Around five-thirty this afternoon, I called the edit done well enough for the drunken revelers who will be stuffed into Brenda's house (I expect those not invited to crash it anyway).  I needed to head over to the Bihl Haus for the 4th annual “Olvidate del Alamo,” which, irreverently, commemorates the day the Alamo was besieged back in 1836.

Ramon Vasquez y Sanchez curated the show.  There was work by about 20 different artists.  Poetry readings.  And a bit of theater, where George Cisneros, dressed as a drummer with Santa Anna's troops, proceeded some more of the general's men who escorted some anglo prisoners.  The prisoners wore stetsons, sunglasses, and orange prison jumpsuits with “illegal alien” stenciled on the back.  All in good fun … I think.

Ramon was playing the MC.  He, too, wore an officer's uniform from Santa Anna's troop.  I was able to give him a CD of photos he had asked me for months ago.

Deborah was there, mingling with her admirers.

Jon Philip Santos was there, and if he did a reading, I had arrived too late to hear him.

JoEl from Comedia A Go-Go was there.  He told me his comedy troop was planning a couple of shows at the Jump-Start in  April.

It was a great evening.  It's so refreshing to hear so much truly good poetry.  Most of the stuff should never make it to the ears of the public.

I just had enough time to leave, stop by the grocery store, and type out this short post.  I have to be in Seguin tomorrow for a 6am call-time.  Do these people never learn that I'm used to waking with the sun. or, better yet, the soft footfalls of the postman climbing my porch in the early afternoon.  So, I'm setting my alarm clock for 4:45.  And there'd better be a carafe of hot coffee awaiting me, dammit.


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