The Reivers: I Keep Some Words Here In My Pocket for Such a Rainy Day

For a few moments at The Reivers reunion show at The Parish in Austin last night, it was 1985 again.

The kids who used to smoke cigarettes and drink coffee at Quacks or Les Amis, who used to hunt for records at Sound Exchange on the Drag, who used to queue up outside the Liberty Lunch were there. Most are a little thicker around the middle and maybe showing a little -- or a lot of -- gray. Or a receding hairline. Some of them brought their kids.

But they were there, pulling on a Shiner or a Lone Star, shelving middle age anxieties for a couple of hours to remember what life was like before mortgage payments and Blackberries. One woman -- in true Michael Stipe fashion -- was rocking her FFA jacket. A couple even wore their old-school Reivers' t-shirts.

And it was a good night and a good show.

The Reivers -- John Croslin, Kim Longacre, Cindy Toth and Garrett Williams -- were one of the biggest deals in the Austin scene in the mid-1980s. They never made the splash that Stevie Ray Vaughan did. Hell, they never made the splash Timbuk 3 made. But the two sold out shows over the weekend tell you that even though this band broke up in 1991 without reaching the same heights as other Austin acts, it still has a special place in the hearts of many a current and former Austin resident.

If you are looking for a good overview of who The Reivers were, or maybe you just need a little refresher course, go no further than Michael Corcoran's excellent remembrance on the Austin 360 Web site. He pretty much nailed it, and he was there to know. Below is a video of how they did it back in the day:



Last night, in the second of their two shows, The Reivers sounded like a band that hadn't played together in over 15 years -- not especially tight and they missed a few notes early on. And I'm sad to say that Longacre -- who could make the hair on the back of my neck stand up back in the 80's -- doesn't quite have the pipes she used to.

But these are mere quibbles. The Reivers still rocked and their got better as the night wore on. Longacre jumps around on stage pretty good for a middle-aged mom. Her harmonies with Croslin still evoke the same magic. Toth is still enigmatic. Williams plays the fuck out of his drum kit.



To provide a little more context for those of you in the 817, the Reivers emerged from the Austin scene in mid-1980s as a band called Zeitgeist. You can see them above on MTV's Cutting Edge, circa 1985, along with Daniel Johnston. Cut from the mold of the jangly R.E.M.-influenced bands of the time, they released an excellent album called Translate Slowly, a moody album perfectly calibrated for my brooding teen-age soul. As much as I loved all the songs on that album, what really struck me was two covers: Willie Nelson's "Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain" and "The 4Country Reporter Theme." These guys could rock, but they knew Texas. They were people like me. They loved Willie and Bob Phillips. They even ripped off the Texas Rangers logo of the baseball wearing the cowboy hat for their very own.

I listened to Translate Slowly approximately 150,000 times. I used to look at the back of the album sleeve at the black and white photograph of the band members sitting around a table, playing cards and drinking bottles of Shiner Bock and cans of Bud. I remember thinking, 'Man, Austin's a place I need to get to.'

Back then, that was the music of the future, the siren song of impending adulthood. And Austin called out as a good place get life started.

And I got to Austin. By the time I arrived, a lawsuit from another band with the same name prompted a name change to The Reivers, but I saw them and Joe Ely and the True Believers and a bunch of other great bands play during my time there. And I smoked cigarettes and drank Shiner, played spades and hung out with my friends just like those kids on the album sleeve. I even met my first Austin girlfriend at a Reivers' album release party on a cold, blustry winter day in the parking lot of the old Waterloo Records location.

And though the girlfriend wasn't around much longer than an album side, one cut off of that record, The End of the Day, I still carry around with me to this day. It was the next-to-last song they played last night, "Star-Telegram." It's still my favorite song ever about Fort Worth -- a beautiful piece of 1980s nostalgia for growing up in the early 1970s.

And that's where everything turns around. As I listened to that song last night, I was very aware that it was not a part of the soundtrack of my future, but rather my past. Now, when I put those old albums on and thoughts of Austin spin above my record player, I'm in Fort Worth. I've got a kid of my own who wears t-shirts and listens to rock music. Funny how that happened so quickly.

But, I'm lucky. Sure, time goes by all too fast, and many of the kids I enjoyed those Austin days with are now scattered all over the globe -- from Brazil to Ireland to Australia. But I still have some good old friends around who remember those days. And from time to time, just like yesterday afternoon, we can sit under a towering oak tree on South Congress in the long shadows of afternoon and share a drink and a laugh and listen to a little music.

That's really what I took away from last night at The Parish. -- for me, Austin is like Hemingway's Paris -- it's really a moveable feast. There's never any end to it. No matter how much you change or it changes, you can still return to it. And it's always worth it.

To Kim, John, Cindy and Garrett, thanks for the reminder. Thanks to Russ and Shannon for a good trip.

Thanks to jbeckham for the photo.

UPDATE: Read the Austin 360 review here.

Rick Poss and Randy Weeks at the AllGood

Just got off the phone with my friend Rick Poss, who informed me that he will be playing with Randy Weeks at the AllGood Cafe in Deep Ellum this Friday night at 9.

Weeks is kind of a big deal in Americana music circles, and he's probably best known for his song "Can't Let Go," with was on Lucinda Williams' monster hi album, Car Wheels on a Gravel Road. Rick is an Austin guitar legend who just put out his first solo album, The Dying Man. In case you missed it, I interviewed Rick back in the summer.

The Johnson Treatment

The Startlegram had an interesting story on the new-found interest in Lyndon B. Johnson. Writes John Moritz: "The death of Lady Bird Johnson last month and the outpouring of tributes to the former first lady's quiet influence during her husband's tumultuous presidency have rekindled a resurgence of interest in the Texas couple's years in Washington. Attendance at the LBJ Library and Museum at the University of Texas at Austin reached about 36,000 from July 15 to Aug. 1. That's twice what would typically be expected from such a stretch during the summer."

I've always been an LBJ fan, which surprises some people. Most folks -- mainly boomers -- still think about Vietnam and "Hey, hey, LBJ, who many kids did you kill today?" And certainly Vietnam, or "that dirty old bitch of a war" as he would call it, will always color many people's opinions about the man. The great American writer Ralph Ellison told him as much. But Ellison, who was grateful to Johnson for the great strides he achieved in civil rights, said: "When all the returns are in, perhaps President Johnson will have to settle for being recognized as the greatest American president for the poor and for the Negroes, but that, as I see it, is a very great honor indeed." Agreed.

I still think that what made the man great was he believed in a vision of American greatness. Look at his record: aid to education, attack on disease, Medicare, urban renewal, beautification, conservation, development of depressed regions, a wide-scale fight against poverty, control and prevention of crime and delinquency, removal of obstacles to the right to vote. Maybe the Great Society was an overreach, but the fact is that the lives of millions were improved under his leadership. In my opinion, he's still the greatest president from Texas. He truly believed that no person should be left behind.

For My Austin Peeps

This just in from mi amigo maximo Rick Poss, he’s got a regular Wednesday gig at Café Mundi at 1704 E. 5th. Go by and check him out and maybe even buy a CD.

Interview: Rick Poss -- Out of the Shadows

Rick Poss possesses a natural sort of cool that many people try to cultivate but few achieve. In Austin music circles, he's known for his incredible guitar prowess that he has displayed with the likes of Alejandro Escovedo, Jimmy LaFave, Jack Saunders, Jim Lauderdale, Greg Trooper, and Bruce Robison, among others.

But what I've always thought made Rick a cool cat was not his unbelievable guitar playing ability, but rather his graciousness, his wit, his easy manner and his knowledge of all things pop cultural. The man is truly charming in a way that few possess. I've been fortunate enough to call Rick a friend for many years. He was my boss back in my Sound Warehouse days in Austin and I still remember him ribbing me when I bought a stack of Miles Davis and Thelonious Monk CDs in an effort to further my jazz education. "Oh," he said with that wicked Rick grin, "You think you like jazz!"

Rick, of course, knows jazz. And blues. And rock. And film noir. And baseball. I could go on, but let me just say that I always found Rick to be conversant on just about any subject -- and not in a show-off, look-at-me kind of way. Whenever I talk to Rick, I always leave thinking the same thing -- what a great conversation. And what a great guy.

So in case you haven't guessed, I think Rick kicks ass. That's why I am excited about his first-ever solo CD, The Dying Man, which you can buy from Waterloo Records in Austin, starting July 17. So now that Rick is stepping out of the shadows and into the spotlight, I thought maybe we needed to talk a little and share our conversation.

The Caravan of Dreams: Why did you decide now was the time for the solo CD?
Rick Poss: I had some time between projects and had been writing a lot of material that I couldn't use as a side man. After the death of my father in 2001 I had a nagging thought that I needed to leave something of my own behind. I guess it was just the combination of things, the time, the songs, the feeling.

TCoD: Where did the title come from?
RP: The Dying Man is a tribute both to the late John Fahey and my father. Fahey passed away while I was recording the record. He had done loads of work about death and dying, the blues and spiritual issues and since my father was a preacher there was a vague connection to me, a sort of tie in between the two passings. I also feel that songs are often about relationships and with the passing of a relationship can come the feeling of death or ultimate loss.

TCoD: I know your love of noir fiction and film noir was a huge influence on the CD. How did you incorporate that into the lyrics and sound of the record?
RP: I think that blues and detective stories have the man against the world in common. A man in search of truth or in search of honor is a common theme in both. The cover art as well has to do with a sort of noir quality. I often write songs from the title first. Titles like "No Answer," "Double Cross," "Lucky 7" are all movie titles. The sound I was going for in "Double Cross" particularly was like a jazz singer, maybe Chet Baker, that could be easily found in a noir sound track.

TCoD: What kind of a reaction are you getting from people who have only known you as the guy who plays guitar? People actually get to hear you sing!
RP: Many people have heard me sing in other bands, bits and pieces along the way. I have fronted bands since I started playing. Strangely, there are those who remember me more that way. I guess a few folks, when they heard I was making a CD, asked if it was all instrumental... I got a kick out of that!

TCoD: My favorite song on the album is "Apologies Don't Come Easy." It's just kind of a straight-ahead rocker. Can you talk a little about how that song came together?
RP: The sound of the song, the delivery, is somewhat like my music in the 80's. The subject or the character in the song needed to be a guy with an attitude. I've known plenty of people like that, as we all have. I think it's hard for most of us to apologize, even if we need to.

TCoD: I've always thought of Jimmy LaFave's Buffalo Return to the Plains as kind of minor Texas classic. What are your memories of that recording session?
RP: Minor? Really, I have Jimmy to thank for giving me so much space on the record. I'm all over it. He was very generous. The basics were a struggle. The drummer was new, the keyboard was new, and so was I, so it took us a while to gel. After a couple of days in the studio, I think we really came together and began to work as a unit. That's really magic when that happens. I agree that it's a great record and probably at the time the best work I had ever done.

TCoD: You also played on Alejandro Escovedo's Gravity. A lot of famous names on that one: Turner Stephen Bruton, Lou Ann Barton, Bruce and Charlie Robison. What are your memories of recording that album?
RP: Alejandro is such a great storyteller. It was easy! The ablum was quite different from our live performances from the period so then it took a while to come together. Oddly, most of the people you mentioned were not in the studio at the same time. Years later when I played with Bruce, I joked that we were on the same record and he didn't realize what I meant.

TCoD: You studied guitar with Paul Buskirk and Chris Florey (Benny Goodman)? What are the lessons that lasted from your time studying with them?
RP: Paul was a genius, who could play anything. He co-wrote "Night Life" with Willie Nelson and played anything with strings on it! Chris was a great sing player who showed me lots of chords and how to use them in a very different way than I had ever thought possible. The chords in "Double Cross" would not have happened without Chris showing me jazz inversions. I was lucky to run into them both when I did. The right instruction at the right time can make all the difference.

TCoD: I know that you are quite a record collector? What are a couple of records that have most influenced your development as a guitarist?
RP: The Blues Breakers record with Eric Clapton, Texas Blues by Lightin' Hopkins, all the Robert Johnson stuff, and A Man and His Blues by Buddy Guy ... Really there is so much it's hard to choose!

TCoD: Tell me again, WHY are you a New York Yankees fan?!
RP: Two words: Roger Maris.

TCoD: One of things I remember about you is you are quite a student of the JFK Assassination? Are you a conspiracy guy or a Lee Harvey Oswald guy?
RP: You know the answer to that! Seriously, I've always felt Jack Ruby should be considered the central character of that drama. When you think of it that way, it changes everything.

Thanks, Rick! Hope to see you in Cowtown soon.

Oh, The Humanities!

The Smithsonsian may be America's Attic, but the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center at the University of Texas is America's crazy uncle with obsessive-compulsive disorder and a fat wallet. It's got a Gutenberg Bible (ca. 1455), the First Photograph (ca. 1826), film archives of David O. Selznick and Robert De Niro, paintings by Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, and major manuscript collections of James Joyce, Ernest Hemingway, T. S. Eliot, D. H. Lawrence, Isaac Bashevis Singer, Tennessee Williams, and Norman Mailer. It's even got Dorothy's ruby slippers from The Wizard of Oz. The overview of the place in the most recent The New Yorker had me waxing nostalgic a little.

I've got a soft spot for the place because I used to hang there back in my UT days when I was suffering under delusion that a life in academia would be beneficial. Under the influence of Bill Stott's class on Documentary Expression, I spent many hours going through the James Agee Collection researching Agee and Walker Evans and their book Let Us Now Praise Famous Men. Kurth Sprague also gave me a private tour of the Tom Lea Collection. Although the U gets some knocks for being an overwhelming environment that doesn't care about undergrads, I always found lots of great academic opportunities and people willing to nurture your intellectual curiousity if you made the effort.

That said, the HRC gets some knocks because gathering this trove of stuff means throwing down some serious coin. That has some regarding the HRC as a bunch of rich Texans with fat wallets and no appreciation for the significance of the work they are buying. That's selling the HRC a little short. My understanding is they do a great job archiving this material for future generations and making it available to the academics of today. Besides -- to paraphrase Ross Perot -- if God didn't want all that stuff here, he wouldn't have given Texans so damn much money!

Still others wonder "What are Arthur Conan Doyle's Undershirts Doing in Texas?" Or put another way: why would anyone pay good money for some of that shit? Yeah, maybe they don't need the old sandwich found in one of Isaac Singer's boxes, but you never know what is going to provide the "Rosebud Moment," the seemingly unimportant object that is actually the Rosetta Stone for the secrets and meaning of person's life.

Thanks to Emphemera for reminding me to get off my duff and write this.

Musings on "Opportunity Urbanism"

I love Fort Worth. I am passionate about this city and I probably tend to overthink it. However, I really believe that the city is on the precipice of a significant change, but most people don't seem aware of it or don't want to talk about it.

The Trinity River Vision and Trinity Uptown, the new TCC campus downtown, Museum Place and on and on. We're in the middle of a building boom. But is this good for Fort Worth and will it change the character of the city?

To help wrestle with these questions, I want to refer to this long and wonky paper about "opportunity urbanism" by Joel Kotkin that I found. The concept of “opportunity urbanism” is that a region’s ability to create jobs, offer affordable housing, and present entrepreneurial openings to a growing and highly diverse population are the surest signs of urban vibrancy.

Kotkin makes an interesting argument. “Superstar cities” like New York and San Francisco have become too expensive for middle class people and in the future will cater largely to the upper classes and to those who serve them. Instead, the model for America's future are the so-called "opportunity cities” like Fort Worth, Dallas, Austin, Charlotte, Atlanta and Phoenix. Why?

It's all about the “creative class.” Skilled workers are the brass ring and you get them with urban amenities, social attitudes, and cultural offerings. The emphasis here is on the so-called “war for talent.” Cities that win this battle, Kotkin says, will emerge as the avant-garde in technology, culture, and the expanding global economy.

Sez Kotkin: "These cities are also showing marked gains in attracting high-wage employers and educated migrants, including members of the ballyhooed creative class. These are, of course, the very jobs and workers that are widely thought to be concentrating in more elite places." Yeah, hipsters love all the cool stuff that a New York has to offer, but people are now even being priced out of Brooklyn. As he points out to put it in perspective, $42,000 a year in salary in Houston buys you what $100,000 a year will get you in NYC.

Because of this widening differences in housing and other costs, there has been a decisive demographic tilt towards cities like Fort Worth. Increasingly, this shift has included a movement of large corporate headquarters and of higher-end jobs to these opportunity cities. Firms that need to compete globally generally expand in business-friendly places that possess decent infrastructure and amenities, and that can accommodate a broad range of employees.

I'm just happy Fort Worth is even in the mix. People often say, "Fort Worth is a great place to raise a family." That's sort of a backhanded compliment. What's left unsaid is it's not exactly Coolsville. Can Fort Worth loosen up a little? Pete at Cowtown Chronicles was musing along these lines the other day. Basically, is Fort Worth too square to be a player with the creative class? I don't think we're there yet, but I think we're moving in that direction.

Kotkin also talks about what USA Today recently called the “Be Hip and They May Come” approach. He says this has exerted a strong influence on economic developers. "Often, this has taken the form of promoting the growth of arts districts, entertainment centers, and condominium housing—all believed to be critical in making a city more attractive to the 'creative class.'” We're loading up on museums and condos here in Cowtown, but there's more to it than that. There's an attitude shift needed. Fort Worth will have to do what George Mason University professor Richard Florida calls taking the guy with the tattoos seriously. Are we there yet? Uh, no. But we are working on it? Case in point, Todd Camp told my wife that Fort Worth's Gay and Lesbian Film Festival just had one of its best years ever. People were walking up to him and handing him checks. Progress? Yeah, a little.

Kotkin lays out some basic things that opportunity cities need to flourish. How are we doing?

A good educational system: There's room for improvement, but I'm generally bullish on Fort Worth public schools. For those so inclined, there are a mess of good private schools. But don't give up on public schools. It takes a village, people.

An educated and skilled workforce: I think we need more of these people. But so does everyone else. That's what's at stake. The creative class.

Affordable housing: I think Fort Worth is a very affordable housing market compared to anywhere, even Dallas and Austin.

Parks: I love Trinity Park and the Trinity Trails, but it's not enough. Besides, it wasn't that long ago that Mayor Mikey wanted to run the Southwest Expressway though Trinity Park.

Recreation opportunities: There's a lot of great stuff going on around here, but we're not in danger with being confused with Austin anytime soon.

Good transportation: Whither light rail? As Kotkin sez: "Physical mobility, as well as the class mobility stressed earlier, constitutes a critical factor in overall growth and as a means to expand individual opportunity."

Access to high-speed communications: Whither city-wide wi-fi?

Visionary leadership that recognizes what it takes to sustain economic growth: I think that we (Mayor Mikey, City Council, the Basses, etc.) get good marks on this. I don't agree with everything the poobahs do around here, but just look at the trainwreck that is Dallas city government to see how bad things could be.

A community spirit for getting things done: I think that is the heart of what makes Fort Worth great. Basically, we're resourceful, we have moxie and we kick ass.

So, let me ask the question again: is this development good for Fort Worth? If you believe Kotkin's thesis, yes it is. If we want to be an opportunity city, we need to continue to grow. "It is crucial that cities identify their priorities," Kotkin sez. "We agree that arts, culture, style, and impressive architecture can all reflect a city’s greatness. But we think history shows that great cultural centers—from Athens to New York City—must first work as economic engines for entrepreneurial ventures and for ordinary citizens."

And if building that engine means a Trinity River Vision, a Museum Place and a Vespa store, then OK. Maybe that makes me yuppie scum, but, you know, I think this is good for Fort Worth. There are things I miss about the old Fort Worth, the way it used to be. But I think we have a chance to see Fort Worth really flourish right now. I want to see that. But I also want to see us ask hard questions about whether we're doing this the right way.

Will this change the character of Fort Worth? Certainly it will. I'm just optimistic that those things we like about people in Fort Worth -- that spark that puts the funk in Funkytown -- I'm optimistic that won't change.

Maybe it's the Lone Star. Or the Zoloft. Or maybe you just caught me on a good day. But there you have it.

Things I've Learned This Morning

I'm in the summer doldrums today. I need to crank out another couple of History of Guns segments, but they are getting harder to write. Plus that and all of the Iraq stuff lately has left me in a funk. So let's have a little fun:

Tammy Gomez reminds us that no matter how much we work on trying to create art and beauty in a vain attempt to be remembered by posterity, what really lasts is the stuff we throw away. If you have to choose one thing to endure: Shakespeare or chicken bones from lunch, you'd probably bet on the Bard. And you'd be wrong. Wow, I'm starting off on an up note!

In trying to find a picture of chicken to go with the first item, I discovered something disturbing: Japan has a history of defacing Colonel Sanders statues. And the Colonel IS PISSED!

Austin frets over its Dallasification.

Hey, WFAA, this is so, like, two months ago!

To lighten things up, a cool blog: Very Hot Jews. They are asking important questions like: What kind of Jew are you, besides hot? Are you observant, just unusually witty and smart, or other? Check it out and get your mitzvah on.

One last thing: I like this new Rangers pitcher. He was on Galloway and was talking about pitching for Team USA against Cuba. "Yeah, Castro was there and he's kind of a funky little dude. He looked like one of the GI Joes I used to play with." Awesome.

Porter Wagoner is back! I grew up watching his TV show, so it's kind of funny to think of him on the same label at Tom Waits and Neko Case. But it sort of makes sense, too.

Interview: Inside a Tom Waits Peepshow

Ellen Stader and Rick McNulty are the creators of Austin's Broken Clock Cabaret -- A Tom Waits Peepshow. The Peepshow is a small-scale spectacular featuring dance, puppetry, and risqué vaudeville weirdness, set to the music of Tom Waits and played live by Austin's No Salvation Army Band. Ellen and Rick were gracious enough to swap e-mails with this fellow Rain Dog to share a little about their love of Tom Waits and give us the skinny on what to expect from this year's show. They will be playing at the The Parish Room in Austin on Thursday, June 14, and Friday, June 15 -- if you want to go, buy your tickets NOW because they will sell out. They'll also be playing some shows in the Bay Area later in the month for all you Left Coast Waits fans.

The Caravan of Dreams: Rick, Ellen: who are you guys anyway?
Ellen Stader: I'm a dancer in Austin who began choreographing dances about 10 years ago, and producing live performances about 5 years ago.
Rick McNulty: I'm a lapsed musician who dreams of stage shows that teeter on the verge of collapse.

TCoD: What is the genesis of the Tom Waits Peepshow idea?
ES: We were driving a rented Lincoln Town Car to a wedding in the Rio Grande Valley, so we were all kicked back on cruise control for hundreds of miles, listening to Rain Dogs and rhapsodizing about what cartoons we saw in our heads during each song. Then we started thinking about a creepy Tom Waits kids' show. We realized it would never work for kids--but we took the images and the filth, and turned them into the script for this show.

TCoD: How did you become acquainted with the music and persona of Tom Waits?
ES: I used to work for a cat here in town who road-managed bands; I'd go to his house and feed his lizards while he was gone. One day I grabbed a stack of his CDs to borrow, among them The Black Rider and Bone Machine. Sort of an odd entry point to the whole canon, but I was hooked immediately.
RM: I was working at a college radio station on the West coast when Rain Dogs came out. The timing couldn't have been better--I was learning to drink gin while shouldering a psychotic girlfriend. Tom saved my ass. I was convinced to move to Chicago.

TCoD: Do you think Austin is a good town for Rain Dogs?
RM: Austin is a great town for Rain Dogs. There are so many musically astute people here, and so many weirdos--most often they're one and the same--so there's practically a built-in community in Austin for people who appreciate the arcane and unusual as well as the melodically solid. It's a music town, so the tribute bands are talented and their arrangements are creative, to boot.

TCoD: How is the show this year different than in years past?
ES: Every year we change somewhere between 30 and 40 percent of the show, depending on what worked in previous performances--new songs, new dances, stuff that people have asked for in the past. And somehow, the show has gotten progressively filthier in terms of sophomoric humor. Each new edition lowers the bar of tastefulness.

TCoD: How do you choose the Waits songs you play? Do you use some of the same ones over and over? If so, how do you pick which ones stay and which ones go?
RM: We focus on the second and third acts of Tom's canon, which is to say, when Kathleen began inspiring and collaborating with him. The Island years are our starting point, not because they're necessarily "better" than the Asylum albums, but rather, they lend themselves to wild visions of a carnival universe. He became less self-referential and more of a madman savant. Not to mention that we wanted to hear "God's Away On Business" live, and he wasn't performing at the time.
ES: As the choreographer, I like a lot of the "monster" songs, plus the creepier ballads--any songs that provide strong images that I can translate into dance. Some have been indispensable since day one, like "Rain Dogs." I choreographed the best work of my life to that song, and Rick wrote a really striking arrangement for it--so it's always been our strong first-act closer. Others are great songs that we made unwieldy pieces for, and those end up getting cut.

TCoD: Burlesque obviously plays a big part in the Tom Waits oeuvre. What goes into the choreography of a Tom Waits song? Is it just pasties and a g-string and ass shaking?
ES: This is actually the first year we've included any actual burlesque--with stripping and all--and everyone's pretty excited... especially the band. It's a classic burlesque ensemble piece--lacy pajamas, sparkly beads, fringe, the whole bit--as directed by Busby Berkeley. When I left Kitty Kitty Bang Bang Texas Burlesque (NSFW) several years ago, I lost my outlet for the bump-n-grind impulse, so I'm thrilled to get back into burlesque.

For nearly all the other dances, though, I've based most of the choreography on Bugs Bunny. Because as a cartoon, the intentions behind his movements are always instantly recognizable, always funny, and he always comes out on top. What better role model? The kind of work we're doing in this show is technically called modern or post-modern dance, with some cheesy jazz thrown in for fun, but at its heart, it's pretty much Bugs Bunny.

TCoD: OK, I get the burlesque and vaudeville aspect -- but why puppets?
RM: You can get away with puppets saying stuff that would never fly with regular actors. We've got a pretty blue script, and it's always hilarious to see and hear a puppet saying something filthy. Our puppetmistress is a Tom Waits fan as well, so she really gets the aesthetic we're going for. The real reason, though, is that you don't have to pay puppets nearly as much money.

TCoD: Did the Tom Waits movie Big Time influence you in any way? Have you ever seen Tom Waits play live?
ES: The Peepshow and Big Time are both loosely constructed cabaret-type shows, certainly, but we're using more of a straightforward vaudeville structure than the tumbling, time-and-space-shifting transitions that Big Time used. And we can't burn umbrellas because of the fire code.
RM: I saw Tom at his "comeback" show in Austin at SXSW in '99. Somehow I ended up with tickets to his Storytellers taping two weeks later; blind luck, I guess. And Ellen and I flew up to Chicago to catch him last August on his 2006 mini-tour. Onstage, he talked about my favorite hot dog joint in town, which was next door to the record store where I bought a used copy of Small Change. That album changed my life as well. I completely lost it when he told the story about the Wiener Circle and launched into "Tom Traubert's Blues." I wept like the drunken Irishman I am.

TCoD: What is your favorite Tom Waits line?
ES: "I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy."
RM: "Come down off the cross, we could use the wood."

TCoD: If Tom Waits called you and said, "Hey, I want to be in the show," how would you incorporate him?
ES: First, I'd get him a comfortable chair, and I'd sit him down with a good stiff drink. Then I'd ask him if he could mend all of our broken stuff with baling wire.
RM: I'd see if I could find a place for him in the band.

Thanks for your time, guys. Good luck with the show!

Breakfast with Burnham Update

I wanted to give you an update on the Breakfast with Lon Burnham event from Saturday, and I'll need to start off with an apology. I don't have my notes with me so I'll have to do this off the top of my head.

I joked with my wife before I left that I was going to have breakfast with the three other liberals in Fort Worth, but actually, the turnout was about fifty people -- many of the them the usual suspects (Democratic Party faithful, activists, labor organizers). When I met Lon on the way in, I thanked him for his efforts to prevent further infrigements on civil liberties in the state. I also thanked him for his work in a hostile environment. "It wasn't hard at all," he said. "In fact, it's a lot of fun."

He then went on to answer my burning question coming in to the breakfast was this: how can you hope to get anything done for your district when you probably the least favorite House member of the autocratic Speaker, Tom Craddick?

Lon has long since accepted life in the wilderness. If Tom Craddick could "disappear" one person in the House, it would probably be Lon. So Lon has gotten used to life wearing a bull's eye. His bills will rarely -- if ever -- get out of committee. His life is one of not so much trying to get bills passed to help his constituents as it is trying to stop legislation that would hurt those in his district. And there is plenty of bad legislation to deflect. He used a point of order to derail a bill allowing the state broad use of wiretapping. He also help defeat the Voter ID law -- a 21st Century version of the poll tax -- that would have successfully disenfranchised many poor and minority (read Democratic) voters.

But his work wasn't all defensive. He managed to get the state to divest from companies doing business in Sudan and pass a law approving a sales tax holiday on environmentally friendly household items like longer-life light bulbs and insulation.

But he was most upbeat about the possibilities of having a new speaker in the House. Craddick's act has worn thin with Republicans. Lon hinted that the Craddick D's -- the House Democrats that have sold out to Craddick -- will all face tough primary fights in the next election. The foundations that Craddick has built his leadership on are looking a little thin.

And there was even strong evidence of bi-partisanship with Lon having more than a few positive comments about a couple of House Republicans from Fort Worth -- Todd Smith and Charlie Geren.

I really left with a sense that there is some sunshine in Texas for those of us on the left side of the political spectrum. Sure, this is still the reddest of the red states. But if we engage and get involved in this next election cycle, maybe we can begin to turn some things around here in the Lone Star State.

I'm Buying a Lotto Ticket NOW

Because I know what I will spend it on -- this coolio pad in downtown Austin.

Breakfast with Burnham

I got an e-mail from my new e-friend, Lon Burnham -- or at least the person who answers Lon’s e-mails. Mark your calendars now for Breakfast with Burnham – at 8:30 a.m. this coming Saturday, June 2, at Tunero Mexican Restaurant, 1549 N. Main Street, in the 76106. If you have questions, call 817.924.1887. The discussion will be on the highlights (or lowlights) of the 80th Legislative Session. Lon is one of the consistent liberal voices in Austin who still believes in accountable government and civil liberties matter. I’m looking forward to thanking him in person for killing HB 13.

UPDATE: Ooops! I just thought HB 13 died. You know, Scott. I love your blog but I just scares the shit out of me every damn day.

Kurth Sprague, 1934-2007

I was with immense sadness that I learned today of the passing of one of the great teachers in my life, Kurth Sprague. If I ever learned anything of writing in my life -- and those who read this blog may find that claim to be debatable -- then Kurth and Bill Stott and F.J. Schaack were certainly, in part, responsible.

Kurth Sprague taught me to write simply and clearly and with a confident voice. He taught me that writing was real work, and like real work, an important part is showing up every day and doing it. He taught me that whatever it took to make it happen -- having exactly eight sharp pencils or a well-oiled typewriter or a bottle of bourbon or a pot of coffee or a pack of Luckies or a Chopin record -- whatever got you in the zone to write, do it and get about the business of writing.

He was the first person who led me to believe that I could actually make a living being a writer. He encouraged me to listen to myself, take some chances and -- sometimes -- ignore what other people said because what did they know anyway. He helped me greatly on the journey to becoming myself.

He was a true gentleman, a product of the the Eastern establishment who would have been right at home in the Oak Room with the Algonquin Roundtable. I remember the first day he strode into class, a tall imposing figure in a seersucker suit with a straw boater. He looked like a mix of John Wayne and Tom Wolfe, which he, in fact, was. He could recite Swinburne and Shakespeare by heart, but was also proud to say that he was a member of the last horse cavalry unit in the U.S. Army. I will always treasure the memories of sitting in his basement office, smoking cigarettes and absorbing his wisdom. He would start sentences using phrases like, "Ah, yes, I remember back in the bourbon days ...."

Since I found out about Kurth's passing, I've been pouring over over my old notes and writings from his class. One thing I had forgetten -- I used to write everything in longhand. I've found tons of old yellow legal pads. Boy, those days are way over. I've also been trying to find my old journals to use the words I wrote down back then. But those words are buried somewhere in my office here, and I suppose it doesn't really matter, because, like another old prof, Bill Goetzmann taught me, it's not about what happened, it's about what I think happened. And so here it is.

After all these years, I still can't believe how sad this makes me. The worst part for me is that Kurth was living right here in Fort Worth when he died. I wish I could have talked to him one last time to say thanks. But this will have to do.

Kurth, thanks for everything. You will be missed. To read his colleagues' rememberances, check out Bill Stott's blog.

Black Tie Dynasty Go Old Skool

Fort Worth's Black Tie Dynasty will be taking a trip back to the 80s as they play with former Smiths bassist Andy Rourke at a Morrissey Pre-Party at the Mohawk in Austin tomorrow night. Then on June 2, they play with former Bauhaus frontman Daniel Ash at the Cavern in Dallas.

Roadtrip To Austin for Tom Waits "Peepshow"

If you can't see Tom Waits himself, seeing how other people interpret his work is just as entertaining. Coming soon to Austin: Inside a Broken Clock: A Tom Waits Peepshow is a small-scale spectacular featuring dance, puppetry, and risqué vaudeville weirdness, set to the music of Tom Waits and played live by Austin's No Salvation Army Band.

If your daily diet of Waits, Weill and Brecht is deficient, this show should leave you fortified. As the Web site sez: "This is not a literal peepshow, but instead a peek through the keyhole at the sin and salvation, the sweet nothings and sour grapes that make up the Tom Waits universe as we see it. In the Broken Clock Cabaret you'll see one dancing bear, two fallen showgirls, three disgruntled gravediggers, and dozens of other oddities. From the big top to the back alley, we proudly present the arcane visions for numerous songs--concentrating on the strange world created by Waits and his wife Kathleen Brennan, from 1983 through the present."

Performances will be at The Parish, 214 E. 6th Street, Thursday, June 14 and Friday, June 15. Be aware that every previous performance of the Peepshow (12 in all) have sold out in advance so buy early.

For those Rain Dogs not in the Lone Star State, the show goes on the road to California later that month, with performances in Winters, San Francisco, Santa Cruz and Santa Rosa. Visit the peepshow for more details.

I can't wait to go, and I'll be buying my tickets tonight!

It's Almost Over

The Texas Legislature is wrapping up it's session this week, which means there's all kinds of nonsense going on. If you are interested in reading more about that kind of thing, please refer to one of my new favorite blogs, Grits for Breakfast where Scott Henson has a great roundup on the status of criminal justice related bills.

The Week That Was in Cowtown

Enjoyed a great dinner with a dear old friend, Rick Poss and his lovely wife, Marianne, at Benito's on Magnolia last night. Rick is pretty well known in Austin music circles for his guitar work with Jimmy LaFave, Alejandro Escovedo and others. Now he has his solo CD coming out in July. I got a first listen last night and I LOVE IT!

Not to sound like a broken record, but I want to encourage everyone in District 9 to get out and vote for Bernie Scheffler. He's an important candidate that we need on the city council. Bernie e-mailed the other day to tell me they will be walking neighborhoods on Sunday, starting at 4 p.m. Visit his blog for more info. If you can't do anything else, do these two things: 1) Vote early at these locations. 2) Send an e-mail to everybody you know in Fort Worth, and ask them to vote in this city election. There were a total of 1349 votes in the last District 9 election. It is not a cliche to say every vote counts. Also, if you are so inclined, grab a Bernie yard sign or print your own Bernie flyers.

The Stash Dauber knows the real reason Willie's picnic isn't coming back to Cowtown.

There's an old joke that goes everybody talks about the weather, but no one ever does anything about it. Not true for Tammy Gomez. I talk about it, but she turns it into art. She also had another fantastic poem this week on one of my favorite topics: what does it mean to be a Texan.

Once again on the weather, I'd like to thank Pete at Cowtown Chronicles for confirming that our weather this week was typhoon-like in its intensity. Hope your power's back on, Pete. Mine is.

Check out Big D little d for a bad-ass podcast featuring, among others, The Theater Fire, Midlake, and Bosque Brown. It's got 20 hard-to-find, rare or otherwise obscure tracks total from local artists.

Alejandro Escovedo Update

If you want to catch Alejandro Escovedo in the Lone Star State, Friday at UT's Cactus Cafe is the last chance you'll have for a while.

BTW, check out this feature on Al. It's a good overview on the past four years battling health problems and his holistic approach to dealing with them. Also, Al's writing music for the soundtrack to Jonathan Demme’s forthcoming documentary on former President Jimmy Carter.

Mamet Papers Headed to Austin

Score another one for The Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center at UT-Austin. The HRC has acquired the papers of playwright, writer and film director David Mamet, author of more than 50 plays and 25 screenplays that have earned him a Pulitzer Prize, Oscar nominations and a Tony Award.

Let me just say this: "Coffee is for closers."

Have a cup of coffee, HRC. And maybe some steak knives.

Joe Ely Book Signing

The great Fort Worth writer Jay Milner once said about Joe Ely that just by looking at a picture of him and not knowing anything about him, he knew Joe was from West Texas. Joe just exudes that sense of place. And although I've seen him many times over the past 20 years, Joe's sense of authenticity never grows old.

On Saturday, I got to see a different side of Joe. Although he's best known as a musician and a songwriter, he's also a poet with a voice and a love of everyday life like Jack Kerouac. And although he will always be connected with Austin and Lubbock, he used to live in Fort Worth and still has connections to the place.

"I used to play in Fort Worth when I was just starting out," he said. "I played at the old Cellar club downtown opening for a band called the American Blues that later became ZZ Top. Well, I had some other opportunities and I decided I needed to be moving on, so went to talk to the manager of the Cellar, a guy named Bad Bob. He pulled a gun and pointed it at my head and said, 'No one quits the Cellar.'"

"He was one bad mother."

Still, Joe quit the Cellar and lived to tell and even come back to Fort Worth. He played a few songs, "On the Run Again" and "All Just To Get To You." He read from the book and talked about the process of keeping a journal, about losing years along the way when a cab drove off with several years while he unloaded equipment at the Chelsea Hotel in New York City or a few more years floated away during a flood in New Braunfels.

"But enough stayed together that I was able to put together a book." The result was Bonfire of Roadmaps. Check it out. What I've read so far is quite good.