I've gone through the scratchy throat and runny nose phases. I fear the hacking cough comes next. This afternoon I forced myself onto the bike trail. I managed ten miles, and that was plenty.
Earlier I talked with Alan Govenar. He and his wife Kaleta Doolin run a non-profit arts center in Dallas out of an old firehouse on Columbia Avenue. Documentary Arts publishes books, produces films, archives photographs of historical importance, puts on arts events, and even is currently involved in an international touring musical on the life of blues legend Blind Lemon Jefferson. I was pleased that he remembered who I was. He seemed enthusiastic about screening his La Junta doc, “The Devil's Swing,” in San Antonio. But on the date I'd hope to schedule the event, he'll be in Europe. Ah, those damn scheduling conflicts. My choices are to, a.) show it without Alan (but with Enrique, who was heavily involved in the production phase of the film), b.) try for another date, or c.) look for another film. The final choice is best to be avoided. After re-watching the VHS screener that Paula had given me a couple of years back, I realized it would be a perfect piece to show for an event cosponsored by NALIP and AIT.
Later, as I was hauling out my recycling, I stopped to chat with my neighbor, Cara. She lives on the south apartment in my three-plex. She's the neighbor who works as a river boat captain on the tourist boats that cruise up and down the River Walk area of the San Antonio River. Cara hadn't known that Matt had moved out. It seems that Cara is also moving out. End of the month. And I'm currently looking for a cheaper place. It might be getting pretty lonely on this side of the block this spring.
I have two new links for my loyal fan-base.
The Nations Entertainment Group website has me on their front page in the Crew Spotlight section. These are the folks producing the feature film “Leftovers,” that I'm helping out on. Kevin Nations sent me some questions the other week, and I answered them, trying not to sound overly pompous or gassy. The previous crew member to be spot-lit was Ezme Arana, the brilliant woman who's been providing make-up for the actors, and subtle therapy sessions for the production folks (thanks Ezme, for keeping us all from killing one another!). I took Ezme's responses to her series of questions as my guide.
Also, I've posted a new video blog. When I was on the phone the other day with Enrique, he reminded me of my last visit. We were looking at some bluebonnets behind Rosendo's general store. Enrique commented that they were the tallest he'd ever seen. I should point out that the bluebonnets most people see are of the Texas Hill Country variety. These are the ones that are seeded along the highways of Texas as part of Ladybird Johnson's legacy: the Highway Beautification Act. But the feral bluebonnets of Trans-Pecos Texas are a tough, rugged subspecies. The blossoms are not such a deep blue. Some are even pinkish, or almost white. They don't clump together quite so much. And they are significantly taller. In fact, as the bluebonnet is the state flower, there had been questions in the Texas legislation if these mavericks should even be given that exalted designation of State Flower. But the wise bureaucrats, who hunker down beneath the pink dome of Austin, made sure in 1971 that all of the bluebonnet variants be included. Anyway, the bluebonnets behind the Redford general store came up as high as my sternum. I'm about 6'1″, so that's a tall flower. But I shook my head when Enrique praised the height the the blossoms. I told him that I had been riding my mountain bike on the unpaved ranch roads back towards the Bofecillos Mountains. I discovered a taller flower. Ruby gave a shrug and a bit of a laugh. She's not into any sort of competitiveness. But Enrique was intrigued. He raised an eyebrow. “How tall?” I shrugged, and put my hand to my adam's apple. “Think you can find it again?” I told him I knew exactly where it was. We went back to his place to pick up my video camera. As we were loading up the truck for a flower safari, a man who was in town visiting his girlfriend who worked with the local Outward Bound field school asked us what was up. We explained our quest. He enthusiastically begged to come along. He asked the girlfriend. She rolled her eyes, assuming us all mad, and apparently found something better to do. But we found that flower. And I have the video evidence. I'm thinking five foot one inch probably isn't the tallest bluebonnet, but it was a fun day.