Old blog...
An old blog from myspace...getting ready to leave that behind, but I like this story about the kids in long, long ago old Austin...
Sunday, July 29, 2007
cloudy day
..I'm not much of a drinker any more...a couple of beers...a little bourbon occasionally...and I knew today when I went out, it was not a day for me to drink...but there I went, sitting at Freddies under those oaks...and a beer was the way to go..
Freddies is a cafe with a large outdoor area and stage...and about 35 years ago, there was an old farm house on that piece of property instead.
Probably the original old house from a farm started long, long ago...and my friends the Admiral and Miss Becky lived there...in the house with those oaks all around it...raising a goat or 6...I lived with my daughter down around the corner on Gibson St...yet another restaurant occupies that spot...and at the Admiral's on any given day, you'd find people...under those oaks...cold beer, sweet smoke, pink cheeked children, strings and harmonicas...and those goats.
Like Sweet William. He was black and white...just a kid. Darcie and Noah and Shannon adored him...my dark haired beauty of 3years old and her two blonde cohorts...They fed him everyday, they loved him every day, he followed them like a puppy...
Time passes....and one day Gato announces it's time for cabrito.....time to cook the goats. With all the pomp and tradition and much discussion in Spanish and English.. and alot of cold beer and more smoke...it all began..the butchering, the skinning, the cooking .....all of which the little children took in...and the men were proud..."they know how life is, they know where their food comes from....it's a lesson..."...
The meat comes off the pit....it's wrapped in a fresh tortilla and Gato went to hand my daughter the plate. She looked at it, then at him.
"I'm not eating Sweet William"
that was it.
some lesson.
but anyway...that memory underneath the oaks...watching a little girl dance on a hay bale, a modern young go-go dancer...and the walks around that neighborhood...down to David's little store for ice cream and beer...around the corner to the swings...those little heads racing ahead...two blonde one dark...and then that summer, as I sat in a tub of water at the Gibson St house and heard the DJ at KOKE say..it's midnight in Austin Texas and it's 98 degrees....and called out to my room mate...I'm ready...
we were in Santa Barbara 3 weeks later.
That's where I met Dickie Neely...another great group of memories from that house on Micheltorena Street...
..It's just today, I guess...drinking that beer tonight was okay at the time...but today, it just makes me sad...house seems so empty...the kid is headed back to his life...
we had a great visit, it's just a let down...and feeling alone. One thing is sure, when Matt's around you don't feel alone....he's driving across Lousiana about now...wave if you see him...
Sunday, July 29, 2007
cloudy day
..I'm not much of a drinker any more...a couple of beers...a little bourbon occasionally...and I knew today when I went out, it was not a day for me to drink...but there I went, sitting at Freddies under those oaks...and a beer was the way to go..
Freddies is a cafe with a large outdoor area and stage...and about 35 years ago, there was an old farm house on that piece of property instead.
Probably the original old house from a farm started long, long ago...and my friends the Admiral and Miss Becky lived there...in the house with those oaks all around it...raising a goat or 6...I lived with my daughter down around the corner on Gibson St...yet another restaurant occupies that spot...and at the Admiral's on any given day, you'd find people...under those oaks...cold beer, sweet smoke, pink cheeked children, strings and harmonicas...and those goats.
Like Sweet William. He was black and white...just a kid. Darcie and Noah and Shannon adored him...my dark haired beauty of 3years old and her two blonde cohorts...They fed him everyday, they loved him every day, he followed them like a puppy...
Time passes....and one day Gato announces it's time for cabrito.....time to cook the goats. With all the pomp and tradition and much discussion in Spanish and English.. and alot of cold beer and more smoke...it all began..the butchering, the skinning, the cooking .....all of which the little children took in...and the men were proud..."they know how life is, they know where their food comes from....it's a lesson..."...
The meat comes off the pit....it's wrapped in a fresh tortilla and Gato went to hand my daughter the plate. She looked at it, then at him.
"I'm not eating Sweet William"
that was it.
some lesson.
but anyway...that memory underneath the oaks...watching a little girl dance on a hay bale, a modern young go-go dancer...and the walks around that neighborhood...down to David's little store for ice cream and beer...around the corner to the swings...those little heads racing ahead...two blonde one dark...and then that summer, as I sat in a tub of water at the Gibson St house and heard the DJ at KOKE say..it's midnight in Austin Texas and it's 98 degrees....and called out to my room mate...I'm ready...
we were in Santa Barbara 3 weeks later.
That's where I met Dickie Neely...another great group of memories from that house on Micheltorena Street...
..It's just today, I guess...drinking that beer tonight was okay at the time...but today, it just makes me sad...house seems so empty...the kid is headed back to his life...
we had a great visit, it's just a let down...and feeling alone. One thing is sure, when Matt's around you don't feel alone....he's driving across Lousiana about now...wave if you see him...
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