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