Letters (to the On the Street Penthouse Suite via the Current Front Desk)
In a rare week I received not one but two “hand written” letters. When I got paged to the front desk, I assumed the worst. Though I would have liked them to be glowing letters of endorsement I braced my stomach for schizophrenic rants and other harangues. What I received was actually neither.
#1 Lost in Translation
From a prior conversation, I can only assume this letter was from Rambling Jack Elder, though it's possible it could have been from anyone. Also, it would have helped if I knew just a little bit more French. I will hold on to this letter and refer to it over the years as my French slowly improves. It should start making sense by the year 2034.
Love the Butterfly.
#2 Lost in the Cobwebs
When I opened this letter I immediately began to wonder about the date of the first letter. Why? This second letter looked to be about 16 or 17 months old and had probably gotten lost somewhere behind the front desk. With the paper moving offices, this letter, evidently, squirted out.
Here are some nuggets from this fast tracked time capsule. It's a press release for a show at Salon Mijangos from May 2007 for Sarah Higgins.
The best part is the line “For Immediate Release”. This is all odd because I remember actually going to the show without having read the press release, so in that sense it all worked out.
My Big, Fat Hipster Wedding
A crazy week it was. With everything else going on I went out to the Hill Country last weekend to officiate a wedding. Getting ordained didn't take long at all thanks to a fast internet connection. However, that was the easy part. The difficulty was writing a speech that could somehow appeal to the Vietnamese group, as well as the Christian group, and if possible, whatever scraps were left over, which in this case were all the 30 somethings. In other words, my friends.
foto: Duy Tran
Also, I had been spending a decent amount of time trying to get a wedding present made — a customized wooden nickel to commemorate the wedding weekend.
I was actually annoyed that the text wasn't centered but no one but me even made a comment about it.
Also of note — we were out on Lake LBJ near Marble Falls at a resort called Log Cabin Cove. The cabins, at least some of them, were small cathedrals. I didn't think the logs could actually be real, but somehow or another they were.
Giving a speech to about 200 people is nerve-racking, without question. But once the speech is written it's really a matter of reading from the page and trying to look up enough so that people think you're not actually just reading from a piece of paper.
foto: Duy Tran
The wedding planning came down to the wire. Although all the friends had helped out all day Saturday putting up the tables and decorations and other pieces of set decoration, this left little time to actually rehearse the wedding. So there I was with the bride and groom in their room 45 minutes before the wedding is set to start and we're going over the vows and all that for the first time. This was nerve-racking as well but made the moment all the more memorable.
The fact that people were jet skiing behind me on the lake did make the moment a little less regimented.
foto: Duy Tran
The next day it was Summer Camp is over all over again. Somehow I ended up being almost the last person to leave. The stress had overwhelmed and I was happy to lie on this long bed window and look out as the table and chair people came back to collect their goods.
Oh, and for the wedding music it was Brian Eno ambience and then when the bride walked down the aisle — a cover of a Daniel Johnston love song. It seems funny that Wingo the singer would feel bad that he flubbed a line from the song. Wouldn't Daniel Johnston want it that way?
Calling All Luchadores
After the wedding I found myself going up to Austin for the post-wedding farewells as people slowly, finally left town and made their way back to the four corners of the country.
It was in this random moment that I found myself at a local art show with work by our very own Mantecatron (1972-2008). It seems Mantecatron has quit his job and is set to walk the Earth all Jules from Pulp Fiction style. I imagine Mantecatron to return from the desert in a month or two ready to be reborn.
I walked in and found two luchadores going mano a mano, so to speak. It was at this point that Mantecatron commented that it was a battle of modernism vs. postmodernism. I couldn't tell who was who but after a few armbars and suplexes, a truce was called in the end, as well as some gentle back massaging.
I think modernism was getting his ass kicked in this foto, as one can see.
Identity. A mystery.
This is the kind of particle board I can get behind.
Lost in a free fall.
And who hasn't found themselves in a similar predicament?
And so goes another week on the streets of San Antonio (and Marble Falls and East Austin.) As always, to be continued...
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