Thrift Store Heaven

August 18, 2012

Yesterday I went to meet up with Nameless and Patricia. You may remember them from my experience at The Oasis. Well, my friend, Sarah Fisch, posted on her Facebook that she was eating Pollo Pibil in Los Angeles and that caused me to crave Cochinita Pibil. There is only one restaurant that I know of in Austin that makes this and it's called Azul Tequila; on Lamar and Ben White (next to Target). So, I called Nameless and informed him that we needed to go there to eat soon. He said that Patricia had already expressed interest in getting together for dinner because she was going to be in town. So, things were loosely arranged.

I met up with Patricia at the corporate coffee shop on Anderson Lane near MoPac. We broke out my new netbook, which I am currently writing on, and searched around for galleries and other goings-on. Nameless had suggested going to thrift stores, possibly because every time he calls me on a Sunday I'm at Goodwill browsing.

It turns out, Patricia is the absolute queen of thrift stores. She didn't even need the computer when it came to that topic; she IS the database, complete with ratings – her own and her friends'.

We got a late start, from a thrift-store-shopping point of view. Next-to-New closed at 4 pm. I demanded that since they are in a service industry they should stay open later than that. She told me to take it up with the Episcopalians. So, we slipped over to Savers. It was more or less like a Goodwill, which means that you never know what's going to be there. I found a raku piece and two other pieces of hand-thrown pottery – two small glasses. The two others were by the same artist and he/she seems to be more advanced as a ceramics artist.

Then we went to Top Drawer. I have been seeing this place since I've lived in Austin and I had never been in there. Wow! What a place! I saw a Japanese figurine that I thought my sister would love. He was only $6.  While we were growing up my mother had two little statues that seem to be in the same style, and I thought that Lottie had them now. I sent her an image of him and then called her. She happened to be in the middle of an anxiety attack so I talked to her for a while. Then, when she saw the picture her voice changed and I felt that she genuinely liked him. Guess what. He was half off! $3!! She doesn't have the other two, but she will now have this one. He's missing a hand, but after 8 children all of my mother's things are chipped and missing limbs and digits.

Japanese Figurine from Top Drawer

Nameless found a set of 9 Mikasa cup/saucers. $1 apiece after the markdown. They also had a set of 4 Wedgewood cup and saucers. I was tempted to get them just because, but I wasn't in love with them and $35 is $35. Nameless also found two nice frames made of Birdseye wood (this is according to him and Patricia). They are very nice frames. I told him I'd buy them for him, but he told me to buy them for me. I have them; we'll see what we do with them.

We did end up at Goodwill – the one on Lamar and 2222. It was kind of a let-down after Top Drawer, but Patricia was having more fun. She found a glass bowl for water for her cats. I found a piece of ceramic, which I believe is a Tim Farmer original. It's a pancake bowl; it has a handle and a spout to pour the batter onto a griddle. I don't usually find 4 pieces of hand-thrown ceramics in the same day.

Afterward we went to La Palapa for dinner. (Azul Tequila was very far and they were very hungry.) After dinner we went to Whole Foods in downtown, which is our regular dessert place. We headed straight to the back and Nameless and Patricia got what they always share – a chocolate-lined edible shell with cream in the bottom and mixed berries on top. I got what I always get, a crème brûlée. They put fresh berries on top just because they love me. I think that this is a wonderful tradition. We ate outside under a wooden cover next to what would be a water course, if they had water running through it.

On the way back we stopped at Wheatsville so Patricia could go grocery shopping. I had been there before, but suddenly I saw it with new eyes. That place kind of rocks. I'm definitely going to have to go back and check out their bulk rice selection and their produce. Nameless found some cream that helped the calluses on his hands. He didn't buy it, but he sampled the hell out of it. I'll probably get him some when I'm in there next. It's not cheap, but it's good stuff. Their dishwasher recommended it, and that's a recommendation worth taking when it comes to hand-cream.

I like our little adventures. I love having friends who enjoy doing things like this, and it was Patricia's turn to shine. She knows her way around thrift stores and Wheatsville.

Raku Piece from Savers

Two Ceramic Glasses from Savers

Tim Farmer Pancake Bowl – Goodwill

Frames from the Top Drawer

Details of Frames

I'll write more later. Until then I remain,

Yours truly,

eArnie

American Gods

August 14, 2012

A new kind of book. My Nook recommended a book to me a long time ago and I'm just getting around to reading it. It seemed good, and it still seems like a good book. It's intriguing. However, after I've read for a while I have to get up and wash the testosterone off my hands. The other day at the corporate coffee shop I had to wring it out of my shirt; the book was dripping virile hormone while I read. I guess I've been reading Agatha Christie and chick flick books too long. I'm not used to this. The main character's name is Shadow and the book opens with him getting out of jail. That should give you a good idea.

But, the title of the book indicates something, and the blurbs hint at a supernatural quality. It's interesting in its own way. The version I'm reading is the 10th anniversary edition. Apparently, the author was allowed to put back in some text that had been edited previously. He – Neil Gaiman – wrote an introduction describing the writing of it, and the opportunity to revisit it. That's what caught my attention more than anything.

It's dark; it's brooding. It's humorous in a disturbing and sinister sort of way. So far, it's not an action-packed thriller. That's not what I meant by testosterone. Relevant and prescient, American Gods has been lauded for its brilliant synthesis of “mystery, satire, sex, horror, and poetic prose” (Michael Dirda, Washington Post Book World). It's not a light book that I can read on a Saturday afternoon while I neglect laundry. This one engages the mind quite a bit more and holds my attention.

I had to be in the right mood for something like this, but I'm enjoying it. I needed to get away from my rut and experience new literature.

More later,

eArnie

Mothers are the Necessity of Invention

August 13, 2012

Yesterday morning I went shopping. I suppose that the order in which I go to stores plays a part in my overall shopping experience. I began at Kohls because I have a coupon (30%!) and because I knew more or less what I wanted. On my way home I remembered that I needed 8 beach balls for an event with some guys from church the next morning (this morning) so I decided to go to the HEB Plus, rather than my nice little HEB grocery store around the corner from my apartment because they'd be more likely to have beach balls.

Once I got inside the store I was greeted by their electronics department. Why a grocery store needs an electronics department I'll never know; especially when there's a Best Buy so close with whom they can't hope to compete. But, the racket and lights from that section greeted me as I walked by with my basket. I saw a bin of movies for $6.99 and up, and I glanced through them. Mostly they were sequels of formulaic movies that I wouldn't have cared for in the first place, but it doesn't hurt to look. As I continued along my way I was getting jostled by the people in there. I suppose a huge grocery store on Saturday I should expect to be busy, and I would have actually expected it to be busier.

I started to look for the beach balls first so that I wouldn't forget them. (I am I, after all.) I looked through their seasonal stuff and I saw floating things to go on kids' arms and other air-related items, but I couldn't find beach balls. That was irritating and it was more irritating that I couldn't find anybody to help me.

At the meat market there is a small kitchen and the chef there has a microphone and she was VERY excited about what they were cooking that day. I don't think that I'm just being too sensitive when I say that she was being too pushy;she was definitely too loud. I managed to get around to the ground beef and as I was looking for what I wanted two different people stepped in front of me to pick something out. As I walked through the store looking for the rest of the things on my list I was passing endcaps and bins of marked down movies and toys and a TV set up in the middle of the aisle playing new releases that they had on sale and I just needed a few things like napkins and cream and ground beef, but every time turned around there was some display screaming at me visually and the music and occasional announcements screaming at me literally. Employees were offering samples, which is nice enough, but they rather blocked the flow of people. I began to imagine a sinister Disney-type movie with the staff and products in the store singing and dancing for my attention and everybody wanting me to have a good time with this or that new electronics product, whether I wanted it or not, and I was getting pushed around and clinging to my basket as ear phones danced in front of me, twirling arm-in-arm with video games, all the while taunting me because I'm not cool enough to spend my hard-earned money on the latest gadgets and shiny things. In the cartoon in my mind I kept saying that I just needed a few things on my list, while some insipid product tried to grab my hand. An austere looking older woman with a triangular face said darkly to the man beside her, "Get that list."

I stopped at the deli to get sliced turkey breast and people were pushing past me, walking in front of me without any consideration while talking with each other very loudly over the general noise pollution. Kids were running around, literally running. There were people waiting at the deli for help, but not too many, especially for a Saturday; and people behind the counter were actually very nice – not like Julio at my little HEB who knows what kind of meat I like and how I like it cut and who likes to suggest different types of meat for me to try and who will shake my hand when he sees me on this side of the counter – but they were pleasant enough.

I finally found somebody to help me with the beach balls. It turns out they were where I had originally looked; I just couldn't see them between all of the other recreational floating devises. There weren't lines to speak of at the registers – thank God because I might have had to leave my basket. The cashier asked if I needed anything else and I told her a glass of wine and a Xanax. She gave a small explosive laugh and I was on my way. In the car on my way home the first song I heard was Cough Syrup, by Young the Giant. It seemed strangely appropriate. Go listen to it.

All I could think of on the way home is that they are going to tear down my little HEB and open an HEB Plus in its place and this is all I'm going to have to look forward to. It's a little like one of those ghastly old church songs, They Tore the Old Country Church Down (Built a big new church way uptown...). It seems a little like people have become so accustomed to environments like this, and at the same time people are becoming accustomed to the increasing prevalence of mood-altering prescription medication. It's an American adage that necessity is the mother of invention. Calvin (from the cartoon Calvin and Hobbs) says that mothers are the necessity of invention. This is the kind of turn-around that I feel is happening. Don't try to fight the slow march of progress, and at the same time pharmaceutical companies are creating a market for themselves. I, for one, think that mood-altering medications should only be taken recreationally. I prefer to avoid any true anxiety.

My cat's take on the situation

My response

More later,

eArnie

Absence and a Cat

August 8, 2012

My Dear Readers,

I don't know what's happened to me lately. I feel that I don't want to sit in front of a computer for hours after sitting in front of a computer for hours at work. I don't know how this happened. It's certainly not because I have developed a life; I'm not doing anything strikingly interesting. I've cooked a few times. I've folded some laundry, but when is there NOT laundry to fold?

So, here's an interesting picture of a cat that sits close to the driveway of my friend Glo's studio. It is one of her sculptures and it's not glazed; it is in bisque.

Thank you and good night.

Love ever,

eArnie

Ignorance is Bliss

July 30, 2012

There's something surreal about coming of age when you've led a rather sheltered life. There are so many things that you're supposed to know, indeed that people assume you do know, and yet so many of them you've not even heard of. I wasn't raised in an Orthodox Jewish or an Amish society, but we definitely were not part of Main Stream America. I speak of my sister and myself, the sixth and seventh of my mother's eight children – the first and second of my father's three. And, there is the key to it all. I did not create this blog to bash any set of people, even those who happen to be my father. But, one can't deny that a father has quite a bit of influence on his children and as it turns out my particular father happens to hate people and he went to great lengths to make sure that we, also, hated people. He has his own history and reasons for being who he is, but there you are and there you have it. The five older siblings had a different father and they had their hands full with him, from what I understand, and my younger brother came along 5 years after me, and he began kindergarten and graduated from the same school system with the same class of people and he had a different life than Lottie and I did.

Some things aren't worth going back to try to recoup. I mean, at the age of 42 I don't think I would get a lot out of watching Ferris Bueller's Day Off or The Breakfast Club. They both seem to be movies made for teenagers growing up in the 80's. IMDb writes this about Ferris Bueller, "A high school wise guy is determined to have a day off from school, despite of what the principal thinks of that." That along with the smug look on a very young Matthew Broderick's face make me think that I should let this particular phenomenon go. About The Breakfast Club it writes, "Five high school students, all different stereotypes, meet in detention, where they pour their hearts out to each other, and discover how they have a lot more in common than they thought." Now, that sounds more substantial, but I can't help but think that this is basically a formulaic showcase for an up-and-coming brat pack. I will admit that it's entirely possible that I'm wrong, and if so, then so be it.

Even drugs seem pointless. I mean, most people did their experimentation with marijuana, cocaine and so on in high school and college and most of those people have moved on to different things. Like children. It feels like if I were to try to start now it would seem like a pathetic middle age crisis and that's not really the image I want to foster while I'm going through a middle age crisis.

It's really interesting how, during the transition into the world, I couldn't tell what was new and what was old. When I was in high school I heard a song, which I now know is called Rag Doll and is sung by Aerosmith, and I remember thinking that it was a good song and I distinctly remember assuming that it was an old song that had been played for over a decade. Turns out, I was hearing it as it was released. I was actually hearing it at the same time that my classmates were; I had just assumed that they'd all known the song all their lives. That's another thing about growing up sheltered; you assume that everybody else knows so much more than you do. You probably assume this because 95% of the time it's true, but there are times when you accidentally come face to face with something contemporary.

While others were listening to The Cars, Pink Floyd (We Don't Need No Education was old, but still incredibly popular in Boerne, TX), AC/DC, Led Zeppelin and others that I mix up in my head but that I'm certain were popular when I was in school, we were getting down to the rhythms of The Andrew Sisters, Glen Miller and Peggy Lee. My little brother once called me in San Antonio from college in Austin to confirm to whomever he was talking to that there is, indeed, a song called Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition. (There is.)

It's not that I think I missed out on so much. I mean, I like Peggy Lee and Spike Jones. But, it's awkward when somebody makes a reference to something and you're left standing there with a blank look on your face because you didn't even have the sense to know that you were supposed to recognize whatever it was that was just referenced. And, you learn out of self-defense not to talk about new things unless you know for ABSOLUTE certain that they are new. About two years ago, I heard a new song that I kind of liked. It was being played on an alternative radio station, so I had reason to believe it was relatively recent. And, even though I've been through this same thing so many times, it never occurred to me that the song just might not be new. Then, while I was in a waiting room somewhere, I heard The Man in the Box by Alice in Chains on a TV show about the best videos of the 90's. According to Wikipedia, that song was released in 1991.

A lot of this is my fault. About the time I graduated high school I developed a distaste for TV and I gave up watching it. That's not to say that I got my news and stayed up-to-date by reading magazines and newspapers and thus look down my educated nose at the television-watching boors. I just puttered along in ignorance, and still do to a great extent. I'm much more aware of current events these days. And now that there are home computers on every desk in every house and office and on every phone and radio and even on refrigerators I can always log into Facebook and see what people are making fun of with ecards and then I can google the key words and figure out what's going on. This is how I figured out that a man in Florida really did eat another man's face while that other man was alive. But, I'm not entirely sure that I wanted to know that. Plus, if I can be delighted to hear a new song, who cares if it's been around for two decades?

These days I read the online version of the Austin newspaper at work; I read Newsweek on my Nook and I listen to KGSR, which has a mix of folkish singers, singer/song-writers, alternative musicians, and some musicians who are played on every other radio station known to man. Church is nice because the Bible's been around for 2000 years. We're all kind of on equal footing in that regard, though granted some people have spent more time studying it than I have. I mostly accept that I'm ignorant to everything I should know and I savor Agatha Christie mysteries, Masterpiece Mystery on PBS and I don't even try to understand what's going on in the contemporary world of popular culture. I'm too far behind and it's just not worth trying to catch up at this point. I have, however, stopped apologizing for it. Now, when I flaunt my ignorance I do it with a flair. Then I go home and google whatever it was I missed, unless I've lost interest by that point, which happens about half the time.

Well, it's getting late again and my head hurts and I want to sleep tonight, so perhaps I'll go to bed. I'll write more soon.

Until then I remain,

Yours truly,

eArnie