Townes, Hank, and a New Year

Although many people consider New Year's Eve to be a festive time, I tend to spend the day in a state of reflection. Two of my greatest heroes, Hank Williams and Townes Van Zandt, left this world on New Year's Day; and on New Year's Eve I often find myself considering the ephemeral nature of life. Perhaps it is because the land beneath our house was once Van Zandt land and that Townes' grave is but a short drive from here.

For me personally, this was the best year I have had in more than a decade. After almost thirty years of struggling to become a published author, my dream has finally come true. Every day is a day of thanksgiving. Every day is a day of gratitude, and this New Year's Eve I am giving thanks for all that I have been given. I am giving thanks for all of the people who have helped me along the way. I am giving thanks for the friends and relatives who were there for me and for the artists I have never met but who have made an impact on me as a human being and a writer.

Sometime during the course of this day, I will play the records of Hank Williams and Townes Van Zandt, poets with an accent and vernacular that sound like home, poets whose songs never cease to touch and inspire me. Here is a beautiful, almost hypnotic video of Fort Worth artist Townes Van Zandt's "I'll Be Here in the Morning." The video was recorded from the window of a train.

Fredericksburg Pyramid

The Weihnachtspyramide, or Christmas pyramid, has only been on display since 2009, but it has quickly become part of the holiday tradition. The wooden structure, reportedly the only one of its kind in the US, was made in Germany and sent to Fredericksburg piece by piece. When the pyramid arrived, a team from Germany came to America to assemble the pyramid and train the Fredericksburg team on how to do so as well.

The Fredericksburg Christmas pyramid will be lit until Three Kings' Day, January 6th. Not coincidentally, this is the day people typically take down their Christmas trees in Central Europe. It is also the day we undeck the halls at our house here in Texas. 

Here is a short video I found online:

Vietnamese Grits

This morning I woke up wondering what to make for breakfast. With only random bites of holiday leftovers left in the house, I would need to be creative if I did not want to have Czech Christmas cookies, the last sliver of pecan pie, and cranberry salsa for breakfast.

I decided on making something with grits. Now, growing up in North Texas, grits were not a staple. I have friends from the Houston area who seem to be lifelong fans, but I was introduced to grits fairly late in life. These days, grits are even available in some rather high end restaurants in Texas, as evidenced by this Wide Open Country blog post: http://www.wideopencountry.com/best-grits-in-texas/

So I decided to try my hand at a grits-pho combo. Yes, I opted to make Vietnamese-inspired grits. I doused the grits in lime juice. I added garlic and soy sauce. I diced a chili pepper that came from my brother-in-law's garden. Then, since I lacked shrimp, I added fake crab meat (which my wife said was a mistake). And I topped it all off with the remaining cilantro and green onions from the refrigerator. 

The results were promising, though I am not quite ready to share a recipe. Let's just say that the recipe is still in the prototype stage. About the time I started feeling like a groundbreaking culinary innovator, I googled "Vietnamese grits" and, voila, there was a recipe. Verily, Sir Francis Bacon was right. There is nothing new under the sun.

If you are curious, here is the recipe I found online. I have not tried it, but I will try Vietnamese grits again soon using a variant of this recipe.

http://thecraftingboard.com/2016/10/01/vietnamese-style-shrimp-grits/

 

Austin's Anniversary: From Frontier to Funky

On this day in 1839, the city of Austin was officially incorporated. The new Republic of Texas capital, built on a site formerly known as Waterloo, was named after my great-great-great-(and perhaps even more greats) step-grandfather. Obviously, family trees do not exactly work this way, but I find the idea of step-ancestors amusing, particularly when one of those ancestors happens to be "the Father of Texas."

Ancestral amusements aside, I would like to wish the City of Austin a happy Incorporation Day. I hope everyone finds a place to park, that the music is groovy, and that diners of all persuasions, be they carnivores, tofuvores, or pescatarians, find themselves in a state of epicurean bliss on this festive occasion.

You know, a trip to Austin sure sounds mighty fine about now. After a couple of days in our fair capital, I always come back home feeling rejuvenated and free. Here is Wayne "The Train" Hancock singing a little song about good ol' Austin, Texas:

    

 

Symbol of Resilience: Christmas Angel

When I was six years old, lightning hit our house one Sunday morning while our family was at  church. The living room was badly damaged by the fire, and my parents lost much of what was in their bedroom. After firefighters had put out the blaze, my father went into the house and resuscitated our hamster by blowing into his mouth. In the following days, I remember the whole family in the backyard washing the smoke off of toys and other belongings in a plastic children's pool.

After a few months of living with my grandparents, we were able to move back into our house. That Christmas, a little cardboard angel that had survived the fire was placed on top of the tree. Her hair and face were blackened by smoke, but we left her just as she was. Every year since, the little angel has taken a place of honor upon a Christmas tree in my mother's home. Through life's many changes, she has maintained that place of honor as a symbol of faith, hope, and resilience.

    

Fredericksburg Christmas: My Mama's House

At my mother's place down in Fredericksburg, the halls, and every room of the house, are always decked with boughs of holly (fa la la la la, la la yee haw!) for the holidays. Nutcrackers, Rauchermann smokers, and Santa caps adorn the place, making my mama's house a particularly festive location at Christmas time. 

Here is the little tree in the reading nook:

The tree in the living room:

In this picture we see a Santa cap next to the German hunting hat my stepfather loved to wear while volunteering at Oktoberfest.

Merry Christmas, y'all! All the best to you and yours!

Roach Stompers

While strolling down Main Street in Fredericksburg last week, Martina and I encountered the pair of boots in the picture below. Although I did not inquire about the materials used to make this rare pair of sawdust scooters, I would conjecture that alligator tail is somehow involved.

We then started talking about the nomenclature for such footwear, and the only term I have honestly ever used is "roach stompers." The reason for this name is that pointy-toed boots are more effective in corners than boots of the round-toed variety. I then began to wonder about how I would describe such a boot in a more genteel, formal setting. Since I don't really like the term "pointy-toed" because it could also be used to describe the shoes worn by elves, I decided to do some research.

After a short google search, I found a very informative Texas Monthly article by Joe Nick Patoski on the anatomy of cowboy boots. In the article, he provides a couple of other names for boots with pointy toes as well as many more interesting facts about Texas' favorite footwear. I have shared a link to the piece below:  

http://www.joenickp.com/texas/bootanatomy.html

Texas Christmas: Cranberry Salsa Recipe

In my lifetime, I have had the good fortune to visit many nations and enjoy their culinary delights. I've eaten venison ragout in Slovenia, laap in Laos, falafel in Turkey, chilaquiles in Mexico, and many other fine dishes in the streets and restaurants of the world. So it probably comes as no surprise that the cuisine at our place can be a bit varied. In a single week, breakfast might be bagels and lox one day, khao tom (Thai breakfast soup) the next day, and bacon, eggs, and hashed browns the day after that.     

At our house, the holiday menu can be just as varied. One of my favorite holiday treats is a Tex-Mex-Nueva Inglaterra fusion dish, cranberry salsa. As promised a few days ago, I have shared my recipe below. It can be eaten with tortilla chips or served as a relish with a holiday meal. If served as a relish, I would recommend adding a dash of salt.

Using a food processor, add the following ingredients:

1 bag of cranberries
2 seeded jalapenos
1 bunch of green onions
3/4 bunch of cilantro
1/2 cup of sugar
1 tablespoon of olive oil
Juice of one large lime

I would recommend giving the bag of cranberries a few pulses in the food processor before adding the jalapenos, green onions, and cilantro so that these ingredients don't become liquefied. Let the salsa chill overnight, and enjoy your culinary victory the next day. Yeehaw!

Great Review!

Lone Star Literary Life published its review of Waylon County: Texas Stories, and I am extremely pleased. Like most writers, I want my book to be reviewed. However, there is a certain level of anxiety involved when you are waiting for a review to be released. So, when my publisher, Rachel Pilcher of Sleeping Panther Press, texted the words "Great review!" followed by the link below, I was both thrilled and relieved.

Here is the link to the review:

http://www.lonestarliterary.com/dollar%2c-waylon-county_121017.html

    

Hill Country Christmas

Fredericksburg, Texas, which has become a holiday destination, has its own unique tradition and aesthetic. During the holiday season, folks visit the Marktplatz to look at the German Christmas pyramid and skate at the eisbahn. People also enjoy strolling through the Christmas market, where nutcrackers, ornaments, local jams, and a variety of other goods are for sale.

My mother calls this Hill Country town home, and Martina and I enjoy visiting when we can. While we are in town, we dine at restaurants that serve dishes such as German spring rolls, jagerschnitzel with jalapeno gravy, and chicken-fried pecan pie. We also enjoy heading out to Luckenbach or to Hondo's on Main for some live music. When we're in Fredericksburg, Texas, "there ain't nobody feeling no pain."

The Auslander Restaurant in Fredericksburg:

The Stars at Night

Earlier this week, Martina and I drove onto a country road to watch the Geminid meteor shower for a little while. Even though we were still close to town, we were able to see quite a few meteorites streak across the sky. 

The night sky has always fascinated me, and that fascination sometimes figures into my fiction. For example, "A Frontier's Passing," in Waylon County, is the story of an astronomer from the McDonald Observatory. The astronomer, in boots and jeans, muses on the abstractions of time and space as well as the concrete concerns of his own terrestrial world. Essentially, he is like most folks, except he knows more about redshift and blueshift than a lot of us. Well, regardless of what I know or don't know, I still love to sit under the stars in rural Texas and wonder.

Here is a little Stardust for you:

Frosty and Rudolph? Originally Crooned by a Texan?

Any Coloradan will tell you that we Texans don't know much about snow, and I imagine the good folks of Lapland, in Northern Europe, would tell you that we don't know a lot about reindeer either. But apparently Texans are pretty good at singing about snowmen and reindeer. In fact, Gene Autry, the singing cowboy from Tioga, Texas (population 529), recorded the original version of two American Christmas classics about those very subjects. 

In 1949, Gene Autry topped the charts with "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer." Then, considering the overwhelming success he had with "Rudolph," Autry decided to record "Frosty the Snowman." Frosty the Snowman, as we all know, is an infrequent visitor to the Lone Star State. His cousin, Sleety the Sludgeman, stops by sometimes, but Frosty tends to winter up north a ways. Still, despite the fact that Gene Autry probably didn't know much about snow, he immortalized the song about the jolly old soul in 1950. Today, almost seventy years after "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer" and "Frosty the Snowman" were recorded, the songs are considered Christmas staples nationwide.

Here is good ol' Gene Autry singing an American Christmas classic:

 

 

Bigger'n Dallas

Coming from the mouth of a Texan, the words "bigger'n Dallas" do not necessarily refer to geographical size or the number below the word "Population" on the city limit sign. "Bigger'n Dallas," which is a contracted version of "bigger than Dallas," can mean that something is clear, apparent, or undeniable.

Here is an example:

"I couldn't find my dadgum wallet. I looked all over the house for it, and there it was on the table bigger'n Dallas."

Sometimes "bigger'n Dallas" can even have a meaning akin to "as a logical result." Here are a couple of examples:

"I told that rug rat to stop jumping on the bed or he'd get hurt, and then, bigger'n Dallas, he bounced off the bed and busted his noggin."

"Jimbo started running 'round with that ol' gal up at the Do Drop Inn, so his wife Thelma Jean left him bigger'n Dallas." 

On a musical note, Texas songwriting legend Townes Van Zandt, upon first seeing the Fort Worth skyline when traveling back to the city, told Rex Bell, "There's Fort Worth, bigger'n Dallas."

Just for kicks, here's Townes' "Rex's Blues" from the fabled 1973 show at the Old Quarter.

A Ghost in a Labyrinth of Books

Barber's Back Door Bookshop is a glorious labyrinth of books where unusual statues perch atop rare jumbles, and prints by painters from Egon Schiele to Norman Rockwell hang along banisters and upon thresholds. Yesterday I visited Barber's for the first time in many years. When I entered the door, I had a strange, wondrous flashback to my childhood. I was overtaken by the satisfying smell of old books and the mystery of the antiquarian's obscure treasures.

Barber's Book Store, you see, was the first great bookstore I ever entered. My grandfather owned a small business a few blocks away, at an address that no longer exists, and I often visited Barber's when I was a boy. I can not remember the first time I entered the shop, but in my mind's eye I can still see the stacks of books lining the staircase. Yesterday I felt like I had met the ghost of Fort Worth past. I felt like I had entered a window into the city's past, into my own past.

Larry McMurtry, who purchased the store's inventory in the late 1990s, also considers Barber's the first fine bookstore he ever entered. In fact, he bought his first secondhand book, Hugh Walpole's Rogue of Herries, at Barber's in 1954. Considering the store's proximity to the Star-Telegram building, I imagine a number of Texas' legendary writers were not infrequent visitors to Barber's. The store is part of Fort Worth's history. It is part of downtown's intellectual heart.

And, yes, there is a ghost that turns the pages of books and walks the stairs. This, of course, is perfectly logical. Like my grandfather's old place, Barber's is situated in a building that was on the edge of Hell's Half Acre, Fort Worth's famous vice district. In the early twentieth century, part of the Barber's building was a house-of-ill-repute, and the ghost is believed to be a woman who once worked there. When I was a boy, though I knew nothing of the "ill-repute" story, I always hoped to catch a glimpse of the ghost. I hoped to see a book levitate or to witness some other supernatural manifestation, but I never saw anything otherworldly.

Now it seems that my past and present have converged, for one of the books among the thousands at Barber's happens to be mine. It is one tiny star in a galaxy of knowledge, and I am both proud and grateful that it is there waiting to be discovered. I can only wonder who will stumble across it. Perhaps the ghost of Barber's Book Store will turn my book's pages or some literary legend of the future will lay hands upon its spine. For now, I am content with it resting upon a shelf in the first bookstore I ever visited, in a world of magic and possibility.   

The store's Facebook page:

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Back-Door-Books/116449068380017

A story about Brian Perkins, the bookstore's owner:

https://www.nbcdfw.com/the-scene/shopping/Book-Collector-Could-Rival-Small-Library-124980204.html

    

Six Man Madness: 100 Point Game

Last night I attended my first six-man football game, a state semifinal match between the Strawn Greyhounds and the Milford Bulldogs. Six man football, which is played on an 80 yard field with narrower sidelines than the standard eleven man game, can be incredibly exciting. At one point last night, five touchdowns were scored in about one and a half minutes, less time than it takes to get through an NFL commercial break.

"It ain't over till it's over" definitely applies to the six man game. As a case in point, the Strawn Greyhounds were actually behind at halftime and still came back to score a total of 102 points and earn their way to the state championship. Yet the game was not a blowout, and due to the potential for long, breakaway plays, it was still anybody's game until late in the fourth quarter. When the final whistle sounded and the game truly was over, I was greatly impressed by the sportsmanlike behavior and level of maturity that the players on both sides showed. In the grand scheme of things, that's what it's all about.


This was the first one hundred point game I ever attended. Notice the double zeroes on the scoreboard.

Here is the scoreboard not long before the score hit triple digits.

Here is the website for all things six man, which, appropriately enough, is called sixmania.com.

http://sixmania.com/

Pearl Harbor: It Could Have Been Different

Had FDR listened to Texas-born Admiral James Otto Richardson, the "day that lives in infamy," December 7, 1941, might have been like any other day. In late 1940 and in early 1941, Admiral Richardson warned FDR about stationing the Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor. Irritated, FDR had Richardson demoted and offered command of the Pacific Fleet to another Texan, Chester Nimitz of Fredericksburg, who graciously declined. We all know how the story ends, and hindsight is always 20-20, but I thought that this was an interesting story, so I decided to share it.

Here is a news story from Hays Free Press on the subject:

https://haysfreepress.com/2017/01/04/texan-warned-fdr-about-pearl-harbor-attack/

And here are a few seconds of 1940 footage:

Pistol Packing Mama

This evening I am sitting at my desk strumming out a short story and listening to old school country beneath the light of a soft Edison bulb. While I am punching out this little tale, I am listening to Willie Nelson's "Country Music" album, which was produced by Fort Worth's own T-Bone Burnett and features songs written by Ernest Tubb, Merle Travis, Ray Price, Hank Williams, and Al Dexter. Though I lean toward the weepers, I appreciate an upbeat song every now and then.

Here is the 1943 smash hit, "Pistol Packing Mama" by Al Dexter, which is covered by Willie Nelson on "Country Music." What you are hearing is the original Al Dexter recording on an old 78 rpm disk. 

  

Saint Nicholas, the Devil, and an Angel

December 6th is Saint Nicholas Day, or Mikulas, as it is commonly called by Czech speakers. On Saint Nicholas Eve, an angel, the devil, and, of course, Saint Nicholas travel together and visit the children. Traditionally, good children receive chocolate from Saint Nicholas, and bad children are loaded into the devil's sack to be taken to Hell. Clearly, it pays to be good.

In order to receive a treat from Saint Nicholas, children should recite a poem. At our house, my wife, Martina, always gets a treat from Saint Nicholas, but she has to recite a poem by Alexander Pushkin in Russian first, though she has been known to recite a rather morbid poem by the Czech poet Jiri Wolker some years.

Here in Texas, the Czech Center Museum in Houston will be hosting a Saint Nicholas celebration tomorrow with Saint Nicholas, an angel, and the devil all in attendance. Here is a short video from the Czech Center Museum:

Cathead Biscuits

Before I go any further, I need to make one thing clear. Cathead biscuits are not made from cats. Catheads were given this name because they are approximately the same size as a feline noggin. There is no reason to call the SPCA.

As a child, the term perplexed me. I wondered what the actual ingredients of a cathead biscuit could possibly be. That is when I remembered the words of the giant in Jack in the Beanstalk. I remembered all of that "Fee Fi Fo Fum" business and the giant saying that he would "grind ye bones to make my bread." Judging from the fact that catheads are white on the inside, you can imagine what conclusions I drew in my fevered little schoolboy mind.

Here is a cathead recipe from the Homesick Texan, though she does not use the term until the end.

http://www.homesicktexan.com/2007/04/everythings-better-with-biscuits.html

And here's "Please, Pass the Biscuits, Pappy" sung by a man who would become the  governor of Texas.

And here is a link to buy a copy of my book, Waylon County, if you don't have one already. As you can probably imagine, the good people of Waylon County have been known to eat a cathead biscuit or two.

https://www.amazon.com/Waylon-County-Stories-Heath-Dollar/dp/0998066141

Poly Pop: The Drink Before Kool-Aid

Growing up, if you asked me which kind of Coke I wanted, the answer was generally Dr. Pepper. In Texas, the word "Coke" was (and perhaps still is in some places) not only a brand name but the general term for "soft drink." My father, who has always had a flare for unusual expressions, would ask if you wanted a "Poly Pop." Sometimes he would even riff off of Poly Pop and call it a "Polly-wolly-doodle-all-the-day." For the majority of my life, I just considered "Poly Pop" one of my father's trademark phrases and assumed that he just made it up.

Imagine my surprise to learn that Poly Pop was the brand name of the planet's first powdered soft drink and was named after Fort Worth's Polytechnic neighborhood. The drink, which was invented by a saintly Willie Wonka-like figure in 1922, became so increasingly popular that a factory had to be built to satisfy the demand. You see, Poly Pop was a big deal. It was a million dollar industry with international distribution. But somehow Kool-Aid, which was invented a few years later, edged Poly Pop out and sent the drink into obscurity. Let's raise a glass to Poly Pop. Polly-wolly-doodle-all-the-day!

Here is a Hometown by Handlebar post, written by longtime Star-Telegram writer Mike Nichols, about Poly Pop.   

http://hometownbyhandlebar.com/?p=8288

Pulling a Hank Snow

Among the ol' boys, you occasionally hear about somebody "pulling a Hank Snow." That means they left, scrammed, skedaddled, blazed, or simply "moved on." I have also heard the phrase used to describe taking a U-turn. Hank Snow, the Canadian Ranger, is not exactly a household name today, but he was very well-known in the 1950s and 1960s. Much of this popularity may be attributed to Snow's playing for US troops during the Korean War, with his song, "I'm Movin' On," becoming wildly popular in 1950. Although I have only heard the phrase "to pull a Hank Snow" in Texas, I imagine it may still be used in other places as well.

Here is a link to "I'm Movin' On":

 

Texas Blue Law: Can't Buy a Car on Sunday

When I was a young 'un, Texas still had its blue laws which disallowed folks from buying certain products on Sunday. From my childhood, I remember that you couldn't buy balloons on the Sabbath. It was also illegal to buy pots and pans, baby bottles, mugs, nails, screws, booze (of course), and washing machines. Car dealers got to pick their poison. They could be open one day on the weekend. Thus, they stayed closed on Sundays.

Although the blue laws went the way of the dodo in 1985, a few remnants still remain. One of those remnants is car dealerships being closed on Sundays. Personally, I don't really care if they're open on Sunday or not, but I did want to share this unique piece of Texas legal history.

Here is Lightnin' Hopkins singing about a Black Cadillac. You know he didn't buy it on Sunday.

  

Wild Blooms in Late November

The bluebonnets may have their heyday in early spring, but at our house the fall belongs to the Copper Canyon daisy. These naturalized shrubs bloom like mad in November as evidenced by the picture below, which I took this afternoon. I love walking out into the yard in what is practically December and seeing flowers in the height of bloom.

Here is some information about the Copper Canyon daisy from the Native Plant Society of Texas.

http://npsot.org/wp/story/2009/993/

And here is everybody's Uncle Willie spreading good vibes on "You Are My Flower," a fine song to help ease us into Monday after the Thanksgiving holiday.

State Dog of Texas

The Blue Lacy, the state dog of Texas, has yet to win a prize at the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show held annually at Madison Square Garden. This, of course, should come as no surprise because the Blue Lacy is not yet considered a registered breed by any of the major kennel clubs. In true Texas style, the dog was named the Texas state breed by the state legislature in 2005, a gesture that seemed to show the rest of the world that Texas was not only at odds with the federal government but with national organizations obsessed with the furry and the four-legged as well.

The Blue Lacy is a native of Burnet (rhymes with "dern it") County and is a working dog well-versed in the arts of herding and following scent. In fact, Ol' Yeller, which was written by Fred Gipson from neighboring Mason County, is said to have been influenced by the Blue Lacy. Here is a short article about this unusual Texas native:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090406070456/http://lacydog.com/Default.aspx

    

Texanized Traditional Holiday Fare: Tamale Dressing and More

We've all heard the stories of the holiday recipes that Moses Austin brought down from Mount Bonnell on a stone tablet and the tales of the great-grannies of yore and their immaculate dressings that could never be perfected by future generations, recipes more magical and elusive than the one for Dr. Pepper, the holy elixir of Texas.

Well, I hate to break it to all of those sweet Memaws, Mimis, Omas, and Gigis, but my dear brother, Jason, the chief cook of this year's Thanksgiving extravaganza, made the finest dressing I have eaten in all of my more than two score years of existence.

"How did you do it?" I asked him.

"I got the recipe from the Homesick Texan," he said.

Yes, my dear brother riffed on a recipe by Lisa Fain, a talented Texas food blogger based out of New York City. Although I was familiar with her blog before eating my brother's tamale dressing, I have never shared a link to her blog on mine. One thing I really like about the Homesick Texan's blog is that Lisa Fain does a great job of politely explaining Texas food culture to folks who may not be familiar with it. Here is a link to the Homesick Texan's sensational tamale dressing recipe in the event that you would like to try it for Christmas:

http://www.homesicktexan.com/2011/11/tamale-cornbread-dressing.html

And here is a picture of the Thanksgiving chef in all of his glory.

In a future blog post, I will share my personal cranberry salsa recipe, which goes great with turkey, dressing, and all of the fixings. 

Turkey, Texas

We all know that Santa Claus brings gifts from the North Pole for Christmas, but what happens at Thanksgiving? Well, in this age when credibility apparently does not matter much as long as the story is good, I am going to tell y'all about Thanksgiving in Texas.

The Thanksgiving Pilgrim, who received his moniker from John Wayne, lives in Turkey, Texas, the home of Bob Wills, who, of course, is still the king. Every Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, the Thanksgiving Pilgrim herds up his flock of turkeys, each of whom wears a tiny harness, and they fly him and his buckboard wagon around the state so that he can deliver jalapeno cranberry relish, sweet potatoes, fried okra, smoked javelina, tamale dressing, pecan pie, and all sorts of other delicacies to the good people of the Lone Star State. Although the pilgrim travels from the Rio Grande to the Red to the Sabine and all points in between, he always manages to get everything delivered just in time to sit down on his couch for the opening kickoff of the Cowboy game. And that is the largely unknown tale of Thanksgiving in Texas. Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!

As an added bonus, here is a song that the Thanksgiving Pilgrim listens to on his eight-track player while he is out on delivery:

And here is a link to Waylon County if you are hankering for a copy:

https://www.amazon.com/Waylon-County-Stories-Heath-Dollar/dp/0998066141

     

Texas Treasure

When we are on the road, we like "going places that we've never been" as the pride of Abbott, Texas, would sing. This time we found ourselves at the site of Presidio de San Saba, which was built by the Spaniards in 1757. The only other mammals we encountered inside the restored ruins were a couple of rather cavalier rock squirrels. Despite their apparent indifference, I did appreciate the little fellows sharing their home with us for the afternoon.

Presidio de San Saba, the last fortress built by Spain in what is now the United States, served as a base for gold and silver mining. Thus, it perhaps comes as no surprise that treasure hunters have been poking around in the area ever since. Even Jim Bowie, who later died in the Alamo, traveled to the area in search of riches. In fact, he even carved his name into the front gate of the presidio. It can still be seen in a stone on the bottom right side of the archway.

Rather than dig a hole and potentially strain your back in search of lost treasure, you can click the link below and have Waylon County: Texas Stories, a gold mine of Lone Star giggles, delivered directly to your home.

https://www.amazon.com/Waylon-County-Stories-Heath-Dollar/dp/0998066141/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1511375934&sr=1-1&keywords=heath+dollar

A Mouthful of Place Names

This weekend we needed a break from the ever-increasing population density of North Texas, so we headed west for a breath of fresh air. Out on the open road, we found ourselves passing through Eden, which, incidentally, was not named after the biblical garden but after a man named Ede. We also rolled through Veribest, Menard, and Lowake and wondered how the name of each town was properly pronounced. Please note that in Texas a mere understanding of ethnic settlement patterns does not translate into an understanding of colloquial pronunciation. After all, a town with a name that is as obviously Spanish as Rio Vista can be pronounced RYE-o Vĭstuh. In other words, nothing can be taken for granted.

Apparently the folks at the San Antonio Express-News have been having pronunciation debates themselves lately. Here is a link to a fun Texas place name quiz created by the good folks at the Express-News for those of us traveling around the state during the holidays.

http://www.mysanantonio.com/lifestyle/travel-outdoors/article/Texas-mispronounced-city-names-Thanksgiving-travel-12366143.php

Texas-German in Waylon County

In Waylon County, several of the stories revolve around characters from immigrant communities that arrived in Texas soon after statehood. "Fields of the New Fatherland," which was originally published online by the Fredericksburg Standard Radio-Post, is the story of a young linguist from Leipzig visiting a Texas-German relative in the Hill Country. This evening I was on youtube and watched an interview with a Texas-German speaker from near Fredericksburg and was pleased to hear that some of her experiences were similar to those discussed in "Fields of the New Fatherland." I found this very encouraging, for it let me know that I am on the right track. 

Here is the Texas-German interview. Even if you do not speak German, you should still be able to hear the Texas drawl. For English subtitles, please click "cc."  

The Honkytonk Method

Hemingway rose at dawn to write. Maya Angelou rose early too. Toni Morrison starts at 4 a.m. and so does Haruki Murakami. Although I am not exactly up with the chickens, the 4 a.m. method does make sense to me. Getting up that early can make the writing take on a dreamlike state because the writer is somewhere between asleep and awake.

Kafka, Nabokov, and Kerouac were my kind of guys. They all wrote at night. Obviously, I am not an inhabitant of the literary firmament, but I do have my druthers. I tend to start around nine at night and work till exhaustion. In order to establish atmosphere, I write with my office door closed and the lights dim. When I am working on a first draft, I listen to old country records on vinyl. It gets me in the zone. But when I am editing and revising, the music stops. Every writer has his or her groove, and this happens to be mine.

Here is Merle Haggard playing "The Way I Am," a song that spins on my home office turntable on occasion. In terms of a Texas connection, I feel very fortunate to have seen Merle Haggard at Willie's Picnic in both Fort Worth and San Antonio as well as at John T. Floore's Country Store in Helotes, Texas. Tunes like this get my fingers tapping along the keyboard.

      

New San Antonio Rose and the Restaurant of the Mind

Tomorrow I will be signing Waylon County at the Restaurant of the Mind book store across the street from the Saginaw studio where Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys recorded "New San Antonio Rose," which sold more than a million copies. In honor of my musical heroes, I will be hauling my guitar. I might just play a song or two.

Here is "New San Antonio Rose," which was a monster hit in the 1940s. Notice that it is on the Okeh label. Okeh specialized in German, Czech, Yiddish, Polish, African-American, and "Hillbilly" records and has one of the most fascinating musical catalogs in existence.

A New Favorite Number

Although many of the characters in Waylon County prefer not to leave town, the book is traveling some miles. Today it landed on a library shelf at the University of Montana-Western. I am elated that my work is reaching library shelves, and I am thrilled to have been given the following call number: 813.54. This particular call number denotes that the book is classified as Literature > American and Canadian > Fiction. If I ever decided to get a tattoo, it would be "813.54" inked right across my spine. Yeehaw!

Speaking of traveling, here's "Miles and Miles of Texas." Even the most cantankerous curmudgeon in Waylon County would enjoy this little musical journey.

  

Mamas and Middle Names

Growing up, if my mama summoned me using my first, middle, and last name, I knew things were going south in a hurry. Of course, that probably rings true for most folks. Any time an ol' boy's mama is hollering all of his names like he was an assassin or a serial killer, she probably ain't calling him in for supper.  

In Waylon County, plenty of characters are called by all of their names even when their mamas aren't on the warpath. The book also includes plenty of references to songs by people who go by three names, like Jerry Jeff Walker, Jimmie Dale Gilmore, and Gary P. Nunn. (Yes, I understand that "P." is an initial, but let's not split hairs.) 

And here is a song by one of those three named fellas. It is the only song I know of that references the Gillespie County dump, a place I visited on occasion before my mama moved to town and got city garbage service. 

If you will be in the North Texas area on Saturday, November 11, stop by the Restaurant of the Mind Book Store in Saginaw for coffee and a discussion of Waylon County from 4 pm to 6 pm. 

https://www.facebook.com/FortWorthRestaurantoftheMind/

     

Big Bend Pterodactyls and Waylon County

When  I was in second grade, my mother bought my brother and me a set of World Book encyclopedias. From the day the encyclopedias arrived, if I didn't know something, I immediately consulted those glorious brown and black tomes. If a person on television discussed a topic I didn't know, I looked it up. If I was reading a book and there was a reference I did not understand, I looked it up. The habit continues to this day, and as a writer I like to sprinkle amusing encyclopedic facts throughout my work hoping that readers will look up the topics and find them as amusing and fascinating as I do.

For example, in Waylon County I make a passing reference to the Big Bend pterodactyl. A quick google search reveals that the creature was named Quetzalcoatlus after the Aztec god of knowledge and learning. The search also reveals that some scientists believe that Quetzalcoatlus,whose wingspan was that of an F-16, could not actually fly. They say that it jumped from tall hills using all fours and then glided around. What I like about this story is that no one knows for sure what this winged dinosaur could really do. Even though the hypothesis is based on a computer-generated model, like the myth of Quetzalcoatl, it is, at its heart, still a story. 

Here is a link to a news article about the Big Bend pterodactyl.     

http://www.nbcnews.com/id/49746642/ns/technology_and_science-science/t/pterodactyl-was-so-big-it-couldnt-fly-scientist-claims/#.Wf9IxdCnHIU

And if you do not yet have a copy of Waylon County, you can find one at:

https://www.amazon.com/Waylon-County-Stories-Heath-Dollar/dp/0998066141/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1509907323&sr=8-1&keywords=heath+dollar

Brick and Mortar

I love brick and mortar bookstores. Although I can find almost any book I want online, I love walking into a genuine bookstore. I love the smells, the mingling of pulp and coffee. I love stumbling across great titles I would have never known existed were it not for a thoughtful bookseller.

On Saturday, November 11, I will be signing Waylon County at the Restaurant of the Mind bookstore in Saginaw, Texas. This makes me happy for a couple of reasons. First, I am a fan of the Restaurant of the Mind, and, second, I appreciate its location. The store is located across from the old Burrus Mill where Bob Wills, Milton Brown, and the Light Crust Doughboys got their start. The mill also served as the headquarters for Pappy O'Daniel's winning gubernatorial campaign in 1938. I hope some of the good luck across the street passes on to the Restaurant of the Mind and the good people of Waylon County.

Here is an article about the Restaurant of the Mind in the Fort Worth Weekly.

https://www.fwweekly.com/2017/08/16/restaurant-for-the-mind-arrives/

Halloween in Texas

Although Texas is more well-known for big hats and oil wells, the state also has its share of ghosts and monsters. Ghosts are thought to occupy the Menger Hotel in San Antonio, the Driskill Hotel in Austin, and the Faust Hotel in Kerrville. La Llorona is believed to walk the banks of the Rio Grande, and the Lake Worth Monster and the Chupacabra are thought to lurk around in the Texas wilderness.

For Halloween, I have decided to share a song by Ray Wylie Hubbard. This little ditty is about an encounter with the devil. The narrator in the song is apparently on close terms with the Lord of Darkness because he calls him "Lou," which is, of course, short for "Lucifer." That gives me a chuckle, and I also dig the fact the Mister Hubbard quotes the 17th century English poet John Milton's Paradise Lost. Happy Halloween, y'all.

 

 

  

The Father of Conjunto

This time of year, when Oktoberfests are in full swing, polkas are played throughout our great state. From Galveston to Fredericksburg to Muenster, folks celebrate the music and culture of Germany. One man who was influenced by the music of the Texas Germans and Czechs was Narciso Martinez, a Reynosa, Tamaulipas, Mexico, native known as the "Father of Conjunto." Martinez, an accordion player, was also called the "Hurricane of the Valley" for his fast, energetic style. Today is the 106th anniversary of his birth. To celebrate this Texas music legend, here is "Viva Laredo":

Also, here is a short article about Narciso Martinez from the Texas State Historical Association, an organization I recently joined:

https://texasdaybyday.com/ 

Waylon County: On the Road

Waylon County is the product of many years on the road, yet I never considered it to be a road book. Then, within days of Waylon County's release, my old college buddy, Justin Eagle, informed me that he was taking the book with him on a motorcycle trip to West Texas. Justin rode some 1500 miles on his journey and visited Big Bend, Terlingua, Fort Davis, and I imagine plenty of parts unknown. His description of the trip made me long for the road, and I am thrilled that he took my book along for the ride.

Waylon County is available at: https://www.amazon.com/Waylon-County-Stories-Heath-Dollar/dp/0998066141/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1509199486&sr=1-1&keywords=heath+dollar

Funky Times in the Fort

Today we strolled the Arts Goggle on Magnolia in Fort Worth enjoying the art, artists, and artisans. I stopped and talked with the wife of a man who created illuminated manuscripts. She told me that the inks her husband used were based on medieval or Renaissance recipes depending on the project and that the works were done upon vellum. I asked for a business card and was very pleased to see the words upon it:

"Scribal Work Shop 

  Lucas Tucker 

  Scribe and Chemist"

In my opinion, one would be hard-pressed to have a better title than "Scribe and Chemist." I am sure Andrew Dorantes, the ruff-collar wearing protagonist of my story, "The Librero," would surely agree.

While walking along Magnolia, Martina and I saw a Fema wagon turned art showcase, an antique porch screen converted into an installation piece, graphic political commentary in acrylic, a local homage to Avedon, a spaghetti western in oil, and countless curiosities and baubles. We also heard a US Navy jazz band, a young singer-songwriter who seemed influenced by both Sharon Van Etten and Robert Zimmerman, and we heard snippets of acts that were playing on the side streets. To round out our day, we visited the authors at the Leaves Book and Tea Shop tent. Leaves, I was glad to learn, will be opening the doors of its storefront this fall.

The Arts Goggle has grown into an incredible success, and I commend the organizers for their tenacity and vision. When the festival began more than a decade ago, I remember having to drive from venue to venue because the festival was so small and the venues spread so far apart. Not any more. It is block after block of culture and fun. Hats off to the Arts Goggle and the folks that are making Fort Worth funky.


Here is a picture of some art in progress that Martina took today:

Bigfoot Wallace County

Bigfoot Wallace County is just next door to Waylon County, and like many other places in my book, it is named after a historical figure. William "Bigfoot" Wallace was a famous Texas Ranger whose exploits were chronicled in The Adventures of Big-Foot Wallace, which was published in 1871. Wallace, who was a member of the Mier Expedition and a survivor the Black Bean Incident, lived somewhere between legend and the truth. To illustrate that point, it should be noted that the great folklorist J. Frank Dobie wrote about the Ranger in "Bigfoot Wallace and the Hickory Nuts," and Wallace's story is the basis of Larry McMurtry's Dead Man's Walk. There is, of course, no Bigfoot Wallace County in Texas, so I decided to give us one. I hope y'all can visit there one day.

If you do not yet have a copy of Waylon County, you may purchase one at:

https://www.amazon.com/Waylon-County-Stories-Heath-Dollar/dp/0998066141/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1508541755&sr=8-1&keywords=heath+dollar

   

Wild Animals and the Right Books

In the foreword to Waylon County, I briefly discuss my time living in Yellowstone National Park, where I encountered "many wild animals and plenty of the right books." This evening, while reading a review of Nate Blakeslee's new book, American Wolf, in the Texas Observer, I recalled one of those animal encounters.

In 1995, the year the wolves were being reintroduced into Yellowstone, I happened upon a chain link pen in the backcountry. That alone would have been unusual, but then, inside the pen, I saw a wolf trotting back and forth along the fence keeping pace with a wolf on the other side. Startled, the wolves looked up, and I had no idea what was going to happen next, for I had never met a wolf in the wild before. To my surprise, the wolf on the outside of the fence bolted into the lodgepole pines and disappeared. I don't recall what the wolf in the pen did at that point, but I turned around and headed back toward the road.

In the summer of '95, the wolves were the talk of the region. Environmentalists heralded the return of Canis lupus, and ranchers adopted the motto, "Shoot 'em, shovel 'em, and shut up." From what I gathered in the Texas Observer review, Nate Blakeslee deals with this complex subject with an even hand. I believe this to be a wise approach, and I look forward to reading American Wolf and seeing how the author, one of my former Southwestern classmates, tells the tale.


Here is a photo from the Yellowstone Park site.

Waylon County and Governor Hogg

In Waylon County, Byron Herblight, an alumnus of Warnell High School, works at the James S. Hogg Document Production and Data Transcription Building at the capitol complex in Austin. Of course, there is no such building, but I think the name sounds believable enough. James S. Hogg, after all, was elected governor of Texas in 1890 and before holding that office worked as a typesetter in Rusk and as a printer's devil in Cleburne. Considering Governor Hogg's background, it would not be a leap for a document production and data transcription building to be named after him.

However, the main reason I dedicated the building to James S. Hogg is that he named his daughter "Ima," which tends to elicit a guilty chuckle. The story goes that Ima had a sister named "Ura," although this is not true. "Ura" was just added to the tale for comedy's sake. So, to me, tacking James S. Hogg's name to a place called "a document production and data transcription building," which sounds stiflingly bureaucratic, adds an element of absurdity to the story.

However, choosing to name the building after James S. Hogg was not just for comedic effect. Cynicism also played a substantial role. After all, how could a person be so short-sighted and thoughtless that he would name his daughter "Ima Hogg" yet still be capable of winning the governorship?

One thing is for sure. You have to love Texas, where the line between satire and reality is sometimes indistinguishable.  


Here is a link to a TSHA article about Governor James Hogg:

https://tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/fho17

Here is a photo of Ima Hogg:

Here is where you can get your copy of Waylon County:

https://www.amazon.com/Waylon-County-Stories-Heath-Dollar/dp/0998066141/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1508077589&sr=8-1&keywords=waylon+county+heath+dollar

Alles Gute zum Geburtstag

My stepfather, Randy J. Kunze, would have turned 72 years old today. Were he still with us, I would have given him a copy of Waylon County for his birthday and signed it with "danke für alles"; for, without his influence, Waylon County in this form would not exist.

In my mid-twenties, Randy gave me a copy of Roemer's Texas, and it was this book that provided me with my first insight into Texas-German history. Then, when I was considering taking a job in the Czech Republic, Randy gave me Czech language cassettes and encouraged me to move to Europe while others were advising against it. Without Randy's influence, I would not have lived five years in the Czech Republic, and I would have never considered writing a book that included stories about the descendants of Texas' early settlers.

Randy was a proud Texan and a direct descendant of Stephen F. Austin on his mother's side. In his later years, the family resemblance was extremely apparent. He looked very much like Stephen F. Austin does in 19th century portraits. Although no stories of the birth of Texas passed down in family lore, Randy was very aware of his Texas heritage and introduced me to some of the state's greatest places. I am very thankful to have had him, and today I only wish I could tell him, "Alles Gute zum Geburtstag."

Texas Observer Honorable Mention

The ever-vigilant writer and short story blogger, Ann Graham, sent a note of congratulations about one of my stories receiving an Honorable Mention in the 2017 Texas Observer Short Story Contest. Honestly, Ann knew about this before I did. I was glad to see that my story, a satirical piece called "Bathroom Bill Cody," was recognized, and I was also happy to learn that "Lunch in a Desert Town" by Linda Blackwell Simmons, which our writers' group critiqued a while back, had been recognized as well. I was also pleased that Donna Walker-Nixon, who has a piece in the 2017 Panther City Review, received an Honorable Mention. That makes three writers associated with Sleeping Panther Press being recognized by the Texas Observer today. Congratulations, Sleeping Panther Press.

Here is a link to the winning story (and the list of stories that were recognized):

https://www.texasobserver.org/short-story-contest-winner-muriel/

Waylon County: Launched

Waylon County launched yesterday, and the emotion I felt was a combination of gratitude, relief, and happiness. If there is an English word for that emotion, I do not know it. I imagine the German language has a word for it, and it is probably twenty syllables long.

I dedicated Waylon County to the ones who believed, and many of those people were in attendance yesterday. To those who believed in me, whether you be near or far, thank you from the bottom of my heart. This would have never happened without you.

Waylon County Philosopher

In my younger days, I could often be seen with a book of philosophy in my back pocket. The philosopher who fascinated me the most was Socrates, and I was so enthralled by him that I traveled to Athens to visit the agora where he taught. In my work, Socrates turns up in the song, "Byzantium," which I wrote in my mid-twenties, and in Waylon County, which will be released tomorrow.

In "Byzantium," Socrates comes and goes within a single line. In Waylon County, he turns up in a story about a couple of good ol' boys chewing the fat on the porch. As you might imagine, the story, "The Socrates of Waylon County," never gets too highfalutin.

Here is a link to tomorrow's Waylon County launch information:

http://www.sleepingpantherpress.com/2017/09/waylon-county-texas-stories-by-heath.html

And here is "Byzantium" performed by Nijak:

Honkytonk Music in Waylon County

A while back, my story called "The Nine Lives of Ivy Lee Jones" was a finalist in the Northeast Texas Writers' Organization's short story contest, which was judged by #1 New York Times best-selling author Colleen Hoover. "The Nine Lives of Ivy Lee Jones" is in the Waylon County collection, and its protagonist, Ivy Lee Jones, also appears in "Opening Weekend."

"Opening Weekend" is set in the Old Coyote Bar, where folks dance to genuine honkytonk sounds. Since I am essentially the proprietor of the Old Coyote, I have filled the jukebox with some of my favorite tunes. So Ivy Lee can't help but find herself dancing to the Texas Troubadour, Ernest Tubb. When it comes to songs to make 'em scoot their boots, you just can't beat E.T.

Although Waylon County launches on October 7, I just realized that the book is now available online. Here is a link:

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/waylon-county-heath-dollar/1127121182?ean=9780998066141

And here is the man with the guit-steel, Junior Brown, playing "My Baby Don't Dance to Nothing but Ernest Tubb."

See Y'all Dreckly

Whenever I complete a section of dialogue in my writing, I then read it aloud. If it doesn't feel right on the tongue, I revise it. For example, if the character is a Texan living in an isolated area where language is not changing rapidly, I try to use language I associate with my grandparents' generation. So, rather than have a character say, "I'll see y'all later," I will have him say, "I'll see y'all dreckly."

In Texas, "dreckly" tends to mean "in a little while." From what I can tell, this usage made it to the American South via Cornwall, in the British Isles. The word is derived from "directly," and according to etymonline.com, the term dates back to about the 16th century. In Waylon County, I believe I only use "dreckly" one time, but I'll have to give that a gander dreckly to make sure I'm not telling y'all a windy.

You can learn more about the Waylon County book launch on October 7th by following the Sleeping Panther Press link below:

http://www.sleepingpantherpress.com

Waylon County Book Launch

Waylon County, my first book of short stories, will be released on Saturday, October 7 at the Funkytown Creative Arts Lounge on North Main near the Fort Worth Stockyards. The book launch is from 4 pm to 6 pm, and I will give a short reading at 4:30. Most likely I will read "The Professional Congratulator," a previously unreleased story about a peculiar character with an equally peculiar occupation.

Texas, as we all know, is not a monolithic culture; and, to illustrate that point, the characters in Waylon County come from all walks of life. "A Frontier's Passing," for example, is about an astronomer who works at the McDonald Observatory, and "Vasquez Rocks" is about an aspiring actor working as a wrangler at the Hollywood Animal Star Ranch. In "The Queen of Waylon County," the best hairdresser in town fantasizes about her granddaughter becoming county fair royalty. And, of course, there is the story of the professional congratulator, the Lone Star State's number one spreader of joy.