Sunday. December 2, 2001

I once collected globes until I ran out of space for them

soggy day in the Capital City

"There is weeping in my heart
Like the rain falling on the city."

Paul Verlaine, Romances sans Paroles

When we left the play last night, it was raining. So, I thought it might stop. But on the weather channel it looks like one of those little swirls that pushes up from the Gulf and sits.

And it is. Still raining when I wake up. So I go back to sleep. Until 8:30 or so. Cool, rainy sounds, dig in under the covers.

Then coffee with slightly soggy papers. (Could the NY Times guy not tell that it was raining? And put an extra bag on it?) Not to worry. I scan the ads from the Statesman. There are so many. The retailers are so hopeful. They have patriotic ornaments for sale. Somehow I needed to know that. I read the ads so I can know what they are trying to sell without going to stores overly much.

Around noon, I suggest to SuRu and FFP that we go to the Bizarre Bazaar, an Octopus Club event. It benefits this fund that bails AIDS patients out on rent or other expenses on a one-on-one basis. The organizers get donations and then you can buy the stuff at 20% off the suggested retail. And all the money goes to that fund. They do it every year. This year they held it in a Bed and Breakfast off South Congress. (The Live Oak Inn. Seems like a cool B&B.) It seemed to be an opportunity for lunch and some weird shopping on a soggy day.

We get there early and I immediately get gift certificates for Zoot, Jeffrey's, Hyde Park and such and FFP and I get some Poinsettas and an amaryllis for my dad. Cool. There are giving out Mimosas and coffee and sweet treats.

But we head for Guero's on Congress. It's a place we pass somewhat longingly with the dogs when we walk this neighborhood. In spite of a few tables outside, we don't think we could taco up with the dogs here. So, dogless, we go in and have the goodies. I get pork tamales. Tasty but with queso on top, what's not to like? FFP has a really good-looking bowl of chicken caldo. SuRu some migas. At the bottom of the menu, it thanks us for patronizing a locally-owned taco bar. Well, there is that.

We drift up Congress and take in Rue's Antiques and Uncommon Objects. I fumble through old postcards and abandoned family photos. FFP buys a shaker that looks kind of different. I look at the folk art made of bottle caps, the globes and such. Then we head home, stopping at Precision Camera to buy FFP a new loupe. SuRu and I get the guys to show us digital cameras but she isn't ready to buy, nor am I. Actually I am ready to buy. One for my niece, that is. But I haven't decided on one because I haven't been able to get info on their computer so I'm not sure what would be the best choice. I did learn a couple of things from the digital guy at Precision, though. And I should definitely buy there since it is not only locally-owned but locally-owned by my good friends and a very nice store. We saw Rosemary and gave her a hug, in fact.

Home again, we have a few hours before tonight's event. I've promised FFP that I'll show him how to download pictures and try to fix something on his computer. So, I show him the download. Then he says we need to rest up before the event. Indeed. I watch the end of Wit on cable. Again. It's a good movie of an excellent play. I start watching Crazy in Alabama which I've seen bits and pieces of (I like the little narrator boy's voice) and FFP starts hinting I should shower and dress for yet another gala.

Another gala. Yes. In spite of my procrastination and the rainy streets we are at the Four Seasons at precisely 5:59 for a six o'clock start. We meet and greet, get drinks. We try to look at the auction stuff but it is way too crowded. FFP bids on a case of wine. Later he convinces people to bid against him and they get it. We sit for the meal with some good friends. Pete and Harry are always off on these wonderful trips. I'm tempted to retire and find another retired woman and travel with these two. The live auction goes well. We manage to not win anything while still fulfilling our role as charity shill. Only in the best spirit of fund-raising, though.

FFP and I dance to Mr. Fabulous. In the crowded bathroom later, a woman gushes about the band saying that her boyfriend talked her into choosing them for her wedding reception and now she's happy she did. Gush, gush. Also overheard in the bathroom is a woman saying, "She's in the mommy mode now, you know, where she wants her mommy all the time."

"Separation anxiety," says someone over the stall walls.

Yeah. We have lots to worry about in Austin, Texas. People in Afghanistan are being separated from their families by, um, death and the Taliban wouldn't allow any music. But we can't relate. If we could, we would get too impossibly sad and just give up spending our way out of the recession. In any case, the turnouts for the two charity things this day encouraged me that people are taking their own communities seriously after the flood of attention to the sites of terrorism. Organizations like AIDS services and Ballet Austin feared that their funding might dry up. But it looks promising that perhaps that won't happen. Still, there are fewer Dellionaires throwing money around. But the old time givers are still around, doing their thing.

JUST TYPING
Watery.
Walking reprieve.
Do something different.
Sunday.