Gaspocalypse Now

Yesterday on my way home from work I was not in the mood to stop and get gas despite the fact that my tank was fairly close to empty. Big mistake. For verily, the gaspocalypse is upon us. As of late this afternoon, every gas pump in my immediate area was covered in a plastic bag. But there is no need to panic. We are not about to plunge into a dystopian post-automotive world where bands of ululating marauders go riding around on bicycles reenacting the opening scene of Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian, nor will we all take on Australian accents and dress up like heavy metal refugees and scour the staked plains in search of liquid dinosaurs. No, we will be living in our current dystopia except without easy access to fuel for a few days. I am pretty sure we will all survive.

https://www.news4jax.com/news/dallass-gas-panic-was-totally-preventable-heres-why

Book Contract: Waylon County

Yesterday I signed a book contract with Sleeping Panther Press. Waylon County, my collection of short stories, will be released in October. The book launch will be at the Funkytown Creative Arts Lounge on North Main in the Fort Worth Stockyards. For me, I could not think of a more meaningful location. Three generations of my family worked at the packing house in the Stockyards, and my stories are sometimes set within blocks of where the book is being launched.

It is strange to be at the end of this twenty-eight year quest. I have faced defeat after defeat after defeat, but my determination has never waned nor wavered. In high school and college, I received state level awards for my writing, but competing against other students is nothing like competing against veteran writers. In my twenties my determination was bolstered by a kind, encouraging note I received from the editors of Glimmer Train and a string of phone calls from City Lights Books. They made me believe that I had the talent, but I would also need the right break.

I have been chasing this dream for the majority of my life, and I would like to thank my publisher, Rachel Pilcher, for taking a chance on me.

   

Texas Eclipse

While monkeying around online, I found a picture of some solar-eclipse-gazing astronomers at the S.W. Lomax farm in Fort Worth on July 29, 1878, the year after Reconstruction ended in the South. Tomorrow's eclipse comes during what could be described as the Deconstruction era in America, though the Texas Miracle traffic outside my door makes me think that we are living in the Construction era. Regardless of the era, I would like to thank the UNT Libraries for posting this fantastic historical photograph.  

I hope ya'll enjoy the three-quarter eclipse of the lone star in the Texas sky tomorrow! And, as Mama always says, be sure to wear your NASA-approved glasses.

For information about the picture below:

https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth28039/

Molly Ivins: Goddess of Satire

This evening I was thumbing through a Molly Ivins collection and marveled at her candor, bravery, and ability to tell us what makes a particular fool a fool. When it came to Texas politics, she was quick to let readers know when the emperor was naked as a jaybird. Sure as shooting, she would merrily report that the emperor was parading around without his boots, buckle, or cowboy hat. She could turn the Texas Capitol into a pile of rubble with a mere newspaper column.

I heard her speak once when I was a student at Texas' oldest university, Southwestern University in Georgetown. Having read her since I was perhaps twelve years old,  I was surprised at how subdued she seemed. Perhaps I was expecting her to be more animated. In all honesty, I was still young and lacking in nuance, so who knows what acerbic deadpan humor and genuine wisdom was lost upon me.

After she spoke, our professor invited the handful of English majors in attendance to dinner with Molly Ivins. I didn't have much money, so I opted not to go. A friend of mine told me I was crazy if I turned the opportunity down. She was right. Twenty-five years later I wish I would have spent the six or seven bucks it would have taken to go to dinner with Molly Ivins. Man, I was a fool.

Goodbye to a Shooting Star: Anthony Ortiz, Jr.

Anthony Ortiz, Jr., the accordion player for Austin's Crooks, died last week at the age of 24 after a bout with cancer. I first saw Crooks at the Billy Bob's Fourth of July Picnic a couple of years ago, and I was enthralled by the band's energy, creativity, and showmanship. Ortiz, the heart and soul of the band, danced into the middle of the audience and played like thunder. A friend from Austin had been talking about Crooks for some time, and when I finally had the opportunity to see them, I understood what he was talking about. Soon after that show, I took my wife to see the band, and she also considered them one of the most exciting acts she had seen in some time.

Ray Benson compared the band to the Sir Douglas Quintet, an appropriate comparison in my opinion, and I think much of Crooks' success was due to Ortiz's contributions. I was deeply saddened by the loss of this young man, and my prayers are with his family, friends, and bandmates. I am glad that Anthony Oritz, Jr. did not have a day job, that his short life was dedicated to music. He deserved it. What he gave to others was precious and beautiful. May he rest in peace.

http://www.statesman.com/news/local-obituaries/rising-accordionist-anthony-ortiz-dies/mZpEni2D9rRSDfn7xEvbZJ/  

Here is a picture Martina took of Anthony Ortiz, Jr. at Billy Bob's.

Crooks on Ray Benson's Texas Music Scene

A Texan in Tinseltown

This afternoon I was listening to an old country 78 by Doye O'Dell, an artist from Gustine, Texas, who moved to California and became one of the Sons of the Pioneers. Out in LA he had his own western themed television show, and he was in movies with stars like Ronald Reagan and Jack Lemmon. I love the idea of a man from a town of 409 inhabitants (according to the 1940 census) making it in Hollywood.

My upcoming book of short stories includes a story about a couple of small town Texas boys aiming to make the big time out in Tinseltown. Reading about Doye O'Dell made me think about the two characters, and it made me realize that some of the same thoughts that cross my characters' minds must have occurred to Doye O'Dell back in the heyday of the singing cowboy.

Here is a link to Doye O'Dell playing "Diesel Smoke," an early trucker classic.