personal

Finally posted some pictures I shot on the trip Gwen and I took to Enchanted Rock on Sunday (login “adamguest”, password “adamguest”).

As a rule, I don’t do SXSW. In fact, the last SXSW event I attended was a Kim Wilson show at Antone’s back when it was on Guadalupe–probably in ’93 or ’94. It was a great show, but it was more crowded than the Marunouchi line at rush-hour. I decided it wasn’t worth it and that was the end of that.

This year, I broke that rule, sort of. There’s a free way to get into the trade show. So I took it. Several friends I know through Austin Bloggers were staffing a EFF-Austin booth at the SXSW-interactive tradeshow. And I had recently corresponded with Rebecca Blood about weblog ethics. She asked if I’d be at SXSW–I said I generally leave SXSW to the out-of-towners, but I’d stick my head in at the trade show, and if I saw her there, I’d say Hi.

So yesterday, Gwen and I rode down. Gwen, who had worked the trade show in years past, observed that it was much smaller, and that there wasn’t much of an Austin focus. I had a chance to pester my friends at the EFF-Austin table, did indeed meet Rebecca Blood, avoided picking up any swag whatsoever, and much to my delight and surprise, bumped into long-lost friends Greta and Chester. I ran across a neighbor, Susan, and we commiserated over this country’s current regime administration.

Jon Lebkowsky, local blog dude, has written an article for the Chronicle that quotes me. He’s going to post the unedited text (about 2x the length) on his site at some point.

How do you like the new look? Thanks to the wonders of CSS, most of the work was in making the oval graphics, and that didn’t take long. That and tweaking a few CSS settings, but I was pretty much able to do this in my spare time over one late morning.

I’m guilty of one act of backsliding: the title logo is now text-as-graphic. Getting the effect I wanted using text-as-text would be terribly painstaking (it still isn’t exactly right), and would probably break in a bunch of browsers I don’t have access to. When CSS3 support is available, I’ll revert to text-as-text, promise.

Due to a configuration problem, any mail sent to me between roughly noon Sunday (Jan 26) and 9:00 AM Monday (Jan 27) would have bounced. It should be working now.

For whatever reason, people eat a lot of soup when sick. Especially the canned stuff, since the invalid is feeling too lethargic to put together real soup. Having just gotten over the flu, and with Gwen ping-ponging back and forth, there’s been a fair amount of soup consumption in our lives lately. A lot of canned soup.

But here’s the thing: it’s a terrible over-extension of the word “soup” to use it to describe both the stuff that comes in a can or styrofoam container, and the stuff you actually make yourself. The two things really have very little in common, I’ve decided.

As of last night, Gwen was still sick, and when she asked what I could bring over food-wise, she suggested we could have soup. I’m not much of a cook, but I’d be damned if I had another can of Progresso or whatever. Bleah. Off to Central Market, where I assembled ingredients for something vaguely Thai-like. Okay it had lemongrass and ginger and cilantro and shrimp, and some other stuff. That’s about as Thai as my unculinary Jewish ass can get. It wound up being pretty good. A damn sight better than anything coming out of a package.

A new year, and let’s hope, a better one. 2002 was a tough year for a lot of people. I have little to complain about myself, apart from slow translation work. Funny, though, how money — or more accurately, the lack of it — tends to get in the way of so many things. Apart from that, it was a pretty good year. I did a little travelling (though not as much as I’d like). My health was good. And I met Gwen, the high point.

My new-year festivities were spent with some friends. Uncharacteristically for me at least, we assembled at a restaurant on 6th, which was festive enough, had dinner, and then moved on to Club de Ville, where we rang in the new year. My allergies were getting the better of me, so Gwen and I called it a night shortly after. We were travelling by bike, and still wound up in bed by 1:00 AM.

The next day we got up comparatively early, and had an excellent but simple breakfast on Gwen’s stoop, enjoying a very bright, warm morning. We decided to go for a walk to enjoy the day, and then a movie, both of which we did. When out walking through Pease Park, we got to a point where the trail was closed, so we rock-hopped across Shoal Creek. I made it across quickly and easily (moreso than some other people crossing at the same point), and after I was across, realized that this was noteworthy. There was a time when either my adductor/abductor muscles in my left leg were too weak, or I was too unconfident of them, to have hopped across so easily. This felt good.

After stopping in the neighborhood hardware store, I was unlocking my bike when I saw the following scene unfold: an inexpertly piloted minivan is backing out of a space, and visibly scrapes the car to its right, leaving a big green mark on the white polyurethane bumper. Once out, the driver stops to look at the other car (without getting out), apparently decides “oh, that’s no big deal,” and drives off.

I was amazed–despite this being a busy parking lot, the motorist either figured “nobody saw,” “nobody cares,” or “I am immune.” Sorry, buddy. I wrote down your tag number on a scrap of paper, along with my own info, and left it under the windshield wiper. Expect a call from Officer Friendly.

Here’s an interesting project for a wealthy philanthropist with an interest in political reform:

Set up two shell organizations that claim to have opposite goals regarding some aspect of public policy. Call them “Citizens for X” and “Citizens against X”–whatever. Target one member of Congress, and have Citizens for X lobby him intensively. Get him to introduce legislation favorable to their position. Document this process internally. Then have Citizens for X withdraw support, but have Citizens against X step in. Repeat. Once the two sides have demonstrated how completely this member of Congress is willing to be the bitch of whoever will pay, publicize the whole thing.

It would be interesting to see how/whether this affected the career of the Congresscritter in question, whether it led to broader reforms, and whether the public gave a damn.

The Texas Freedom Network held an annual fundraising event last night, the Big Night of Comedy. Well, not that big. There were two comedians–local Kerry Awn (of Esther’s Follies) opened, with Will Durst headlining. At one point, Durst mentioned Willie Brown, mayor of Durst’s town, San Francisco. Apparently Willie Brown is actually from Texas–“Minneola, is that right?” Durst asked. A few people called something back to the stage, and after a moment of silence, a voice that everyone instantly recognized called up “He’s from Mineral Wells.” That was Ann Richards. We all got a good laugh, and were glad to know she was there with us.

The show was pretty good, but not great. I’ve seen Kerry Awn’s schtick before. Will Durst seemed to be at a bit of a loss for material. Perhaps this isn’t surprising. It was easy to joke about Clinton. And when Bush was just a priviliged buffoon whose tongue had two left feet, he was too. But what the Bush administration is doing is so grave that it may be hard to make it funny. I saw a lot of friends at the show. In fact, a sizable fraction of the audience members were people I know. It bothers me that, at an event for progressives, I’m going to see all the usual suspects. That there aren’t enough here for my circle to get lost in the crowd.

Went down with Gwen to Cafe Mundi for what is now a tradition–the Tantien Halloween Show. I was one of the safeties, and I think more than half the fire-folk in Austin were involved in some capacity. It was a good show, and a good crowd–excellent people-watching. Unfortunately, I got almost no photos.

Gwen’s costume, which involved a liquid-latex top, took quite a long time to apply, so we missed out on the 6th-Street experience.

Austin occasionally gets a violent hailstorm. Last night was one–hailstones the size of ping-pong balls. My car now has six small dimples on the hood. Frankly, I’m surprised it wasn’t worse.

Now to figure out how to smooth out the dimples…

Every year for some years now, a group of my friends has gathered for a weekend at a cabin on the Pedernales river (perversely pronounced Per-duh-Na-liss if you’re not from around here), and this year’s outing was this past weekend, where we celebrated Jenny’s big 4-0. Not much to report, since the weekend is all about doing nothing. We stay up late, sit around the campfire, sing 1970s rock standards, and drink a lot. I experimented with a cocktail of Tito’s Vodka and ultra-sharp ginger ale–pretty good.

As anyone who has spent any length of time will know, the weather is subject to dramatic changes. When we went to bed on Saturday, it still felt like summer. By the time we woke up on Sunday, it was very clearly autumn. These drastic temperature shifts always take the wind out of my sails for a few days.

A couple nights ago, Gwen was given an invitation to some sort of party at La Zona Rosa. The invitation promised it would be a showcase for new art, fashion, and film. “Could be fun,” she figured, so she accepted and invited me along. We agreed to ride our bikes and meet there.

It turns out to have been kind of a weird event. It was a manufactured party, sponsored by Chrysler behind the fig-leaf of an internal promotional organization called PT Studios. There was another company called Gen Art involved in some capacity.

The vibe was very strange. Zona Rosa, which is a big, barnlike club, had been re-dressed to look like some kind of futuristic boite. Very loud dance music stymied most attempts at wry commentary. The minute I walked in, I thought “This is not my scene.” After looking at the other people, I realized that it wasn’t anyone’s scene, in fact. There were all kinds of people there, and the only thing they had in common was that they had somehow been invited. Some people clearly just came straight from work without any particular expectations. Some people clearly were treating it as a big event, and had gotten all dolled up. Some people were funky, some were sleek fashionistas, some were bums like me, some were regular corporate working stiffs. There was little sense of excitement in the air.

The real point of the event was apparently to manufacture enthusiasm about the new PT Cruiser Turbo. Several were parked outside, kitted out with dress-up kits and the like. Indeed, there was a brief fashion show (that somehow seemed like it belonged in an episode of Aqua Teen Hunger Force. There were some photographs hanging on the wall. There was a room set up for screening three shorts–we watched two, one of which was amazingly pretentious, the other which was cute, but also an obvious Chrysler promotional film.

There was a meetup of Austin bloggers a few days ago, at the Bouldin Creek coffee house. It was fun. A total of six people showed: Jon Lebkowsky, Jenny Nazak, Rebecca Robertson, David Nunez, Rob Fischler, and myself. Completely coincidentally, I also just discovered an Austin bloggers webring.

It’s interesting to peruse some of the other meetups listed on this site (I hadn’t even been aware of this system until I heard about the blog meetup). A lot of lonely groups out there, with only one person. Perhaps the Bruce Springsteen group could get together with the Prince group. And to compare the memberships of groups dedicated to various websites I like. Apparently Metafilter (10 members) is more popular than Plastic (only 4) or Kuro5hin (6). Perhaps because Metafilter is a faster read.

Yesterday was the 10th anniversary of the SOS ordinance, which was originally passed to protect Barton Springs, often considered the spiritual heart of Austin, and a damn fine swimming hole if nothing else. Admission to the Springs was free, and there was pretty good live music playing all day.

The great irony is that, a few days before this anniversary, the city essentially caved in to development pressure and nullified the ordinance.

This also gave me a moment of reflection: I moved back to Austin ten years ago, right around the time the ordinance passed. At the time, I was already dismayed at the growth in Austin, and predicted the town had another 10-15 good years left in it, after which I would probably leave. And here I am, ten years later. I’m still dismayed at the growth, but still here. I live in an idyllic part of town, I don’t need to wrestle with the traffic on a regular basis, and so I am insulated from the worst of it. But sometimes I think of the frog-in-boiling-water metaphor, and wonder if that applies to me.