I managed to celebrate Buy Nothing Day. It was pretty easy. You see, it's too fucking cold and miserable to leave the house. I squandered the day drinking coffee (and might I recommend Cafe Bustelo cafe espresso, if you must buy a can off the supermarket shelf), eating pecan pie, and watching videos off the TED.com site. The only thing that got me out of this place was the fact that Phil is out of town and I had to walk his dog. If I had some disposable diapers, I'd fit the critter with a pair and let nature take its course until the sun reemerges Monday.
Earlier in the week — Tuesday, I believe — I dropped by the Cove for a screening of several music videos. For those who haven't been to the Cove, it's the perfect establishment to be located near a college. In this case, SAC (San Antonio College, the downtown campus of our community college system). The Cove is a restaurant, a bar, a laundry, a car wash, and, well I don't know what else. It's not nearly so quirky and cool as it sounds, but it seems to be thriving, the food is very tasty, and the owners are wonderful people. (For a truly cool fusion of bar and laundry, it would have to be the Bar of Soap in Dallas. I believe Carlos was there during his recent production gig in Dallas. My sister's bookstore, Chelsea Books, was just a couple of doors down from the Bar of Soap in another decade, another life.)
The screening was put on by TMC. The Texas Music Coalition. Nikki Young, who is on the board of TMC, was the MC of the event.
I arrived a bit late. It was a small but cozy crowd. The screenings were slated for 7 to 9 p.m., and with filmmaker Q&A sessions, Nikki was able to squeeze in all DVDs that had been brought. We saw maybe ten videos. Actually, I missed the first three or so.
I was a bit taken aback when one of this town's filmmakers came up and seemed actually perplexed as to why I was in attendance. What an odd question. I said something about how I try my best to make as many screenings around town as possible because I think it's important to support fellow filmmakers — as I try my best to make other art events. We're all in this together.
When I added that I shot and helped edit the video that Carlos Pina was screening (“evoL,” by the band Nov. 2nd) he seemed to finally understand why I was there.
The greater question should have been why weren't more of the local film community present? But I've come to expect this sort of general malaise and apathy.
If you didn't make it out, here's a cool video that played: “Silent and Automatic,” by Boxcar Satan, directed by Brant Bumpers.
There was also this nice piece by a band called The Krayolas that played before I got there. I was able to hunt it down on the internet because one of the band members was fielding a question from the audience concerning a location. It quickly became apparent he was talking about the ruins of the old Hot Wells resort far down South Presa. The song is “La Conquistadora,” and it rocks. The video looks great and shows some amazing footage of Hot Wells.
The Krayolas were apparently a local band here in San Antonio with a decent following in the '70s, and continuing into the '80s. I'd never heard of them before, but the'ye back together and touring. After a quick internet search I also found a recent video of them doing a song called “Little Fox” that was written by Augie Meyers for the Sir Douglas Quintet, but apparently never recorded. It sounds just like SDQ, but there's no real energy to it. After hearing it, I was mostly left sad to be reminded that Doug Sahm is no longer with us.
Here's a YouTube video of the Sir Douglas Quintet — one of the great garage bands to have come out of San Antonio — doing “She's About a Mover.” The band sports incredible page-boy cuts and they are surrounded by a truly preposterous faux-to-the-max Medieval backdrop. This is from the TV show Hullabaloo. Doug is singing, and Augie Meyers is on organ.
Oh, yeah. Back to the TMC event.
As a late-comer, I was standing in the back of the room at the bar with Dar and Andy. At the halfway point Carlos' little girl, Rockie, made her way to the bar and pulled herself up on a stool.
“Hi, Erik,” she said. She handed me a twenty. “I'm thirsty. My daddy said you would buy me a drink.”
(This isn't Carlos being a deadbeat, the fact is, he was at a table sandwiched between a few other filmmakers.)
“Sure, kid,” I said, giving the bill a couple of snaps. “What sort of beer do you want.”
She signed and rolled her eyes.
“Not beer. I want a Sprite.”
I nodded and waved the bartender over.
“No, water,” Rockie suddenly said with the sort of firm alacrity not usually encountered in five-year-olds. “My doctor said I should drink more water.”
“What? Wait a minute,” I said, holding my hand up towards the bartender who had just walked up. I turned to Rockie. “What if your doctor had said, Young lady, I want you to drink Sprite, and plenty of it! What then?”
“Water,” she repeated with a furrowed brow. She looked at the bartender, “I want some water.”
“Okay,” he said. “You want like a bottle, or just some from the tap?” He looked from Rockie to me.
“Hey,” I said, “kid's got money.” And I held up the twenty.
Rockie nodded and pointed at the line of chilled plastic bottles in the lighted cooler behind the man.
She got her bottle, collected her change, and headed off into the crowd.
Here's a photo I took later of Rockie, standing beside her dad. Not many people can pull off this sort of seasonal outfit. It helps immensely not to be an adult.
And here's a photo of Carol Sowa, vice prez of the TMC.
Regular attendees of the King William Parade might know Carol better as the ambulatory stick of butter.
When you have an outfit like that, you gotta wear it.
This is the sort of surreal outfit that would be wasted on a kid.
And to sum it up: Santa Suit, cute for a kid; Stick of Butter Outfit, perfect for the open-minded adult (I can only hope, breathlessly hope, that Carol has worn this costume to jury duty or an IRS audit).