Found: Lost Soul Revue
February 28th, 2011 § 1 Comment
The Lost Soul Revue is a 10-man band that covers hits by everyone from Elvis Presley to Tina Turner. Fellow Austin dwellers should check them out at their next show and here’s why.
- The dancing. I dare you not to at least tap your toes at one of their shows, if not break out completely into a full-body gyration. The tempos that come roaring out of this ensemble are completely irresistible.
- The set list. Say what you will about cover bands, but everyone once in a while you need to hear a familiar tune and this group plays them right, bringing all the soul of the originals and then some. It’s great to be able to sing along with old classics that get your heart pounding and feet moving.
- The vocals. Two ladies and one fella make up the vocal part of this group and each vocalist is sensational. Their stage presence leaves little to be desired and their voices can carry across the room, even over the intense vibrations of a guitar, bass, drums, keyboard, saxophone and trombone. No muffled voices or garbled lyrics here.
Check them out. You will be glad you did.
Don’t bite the hand that feeds you
February 27th, 2011 § 10 Comments
Especially if the hand is Heath’s and the biter is a rooster named Ruby.
Ruby was the chicken that turned out to be a rooster. The discovery of Ruby’s manliness was at first a little exciting; it meant the possibility of hatching eggs and having a beautiful bird patrolling the perimeter of our yard. But overtime the excitement turned to frustration and worry. Ruby (or Ruben as we began to call him) was both loud and aggressive. We woke every morning to a rooster’s call and feared every trip into the back yard as Ruben started attacking visitors with his developing spurs. Before refilling the chicken feed in the coop, we had to be armed with a stick to keep young Ruben at bay. Fingers were crossed that perhaps this newfound aggression was a teenage phase, but book after book on the subject urged only one solution for such a circumstance. We had to make jerk chicken out of our jerk chicken.
On Friday Heath approached the coop, Star War’s Imperial March playing in his head. With the wack of a stick and slit of the throat, Ruby was no longer of this world. On Saturday we ate fresh, organic, fried chicken.
We are not hoping to make a habit out of eating our pets, but this one sure was good–tasted like chicken. Rest in peace, Rubster. It was fun while it lasted.
Powerlifting
February 26th, 2011 § 3 Comments
I can appreciate a 15-year-old boy’s ability to lift 445 pounds of weight off the ground, but I can’t help but ask myself why?
I spent the better part of Saturday marking scores for my high school’s powerlifting meet. I don’t know how I was selected for this task or what makes me a qualified candidate to perform such an activity, but I do know I witnessed an event that had me simultaneously applauding and scratching my head.
Basically a high school powerlifting meet goes something like this.
1) Several weight stations are set up around a gymnasium that can accommodate the activities of bench pressing, squatting and dead lifting.
2) Teenage boys show up in droves, clad in spandex uniforms (which leave little to the imagination) and attempt to out perform one another in muscle flexing and grunting.
3) Each student gets three attempts in each of the three weight lifting events to prove they can, in fact, hold more weight than their peers for about a two-second time period.
As you can imagine, powerlifting is not a burgeoning spectator sport, but I did find myself rooting for each student to succeed in meeting their weightlifting goal, partly because I wanted them all to do well and partly because to fail to lift the weight properly can easily result in serious injury.
The competitors would approach their weight lifting station with such determination, such prowess for the heavy lifting that lay before them. Some struggled with their loads, muscles shaking as they moved the weight over their heads or down to the ground. Others would gracefully move the bar back and forth with ease, like it was nothing more than a milk jug. While I admired their dedication, I still can’t figure out what motivates someone to sign up for an activity with such a high risk or explosion.
Yeah, explosion.
Competitors don’t just approach their stations in spandex and a smile. Their knees come wrapped in support bandages so tight, their thighs turn purple from lack of blood circulation and their walks turn from an expected bipedal stride to that of a G.I. Joe action figure with no hip joints. And their waists are adorned in back-supporting belts that are cinched so tight they look like 19th century women laced in corsets. All of these precautions to ensure that, while lifting these weights, their knee caps don’t go flying through their leg meat or their backs don’t crumble from the stress. I won’t even walk on a floor barefoot if I think I can get a splinter and these teenagers are risking their ability to walk with out a cane when they are 25. I say again, why?
Strength is a valuable commodity and a quality that I certainly appreciate and promote. After all, I go to Heath frequently to carry my heavy boxes or open those unopenable jars. But as far as powerlifting competitions go, they are about on par with a hot dog eating contest, power hour. or running a marathon. Just because your body can do something, doesn’t mean it should.
a VERY good read
February 23rd, 2011 § 1 Comment
Check out a great story by Melissa Mixon in the Austin American Statesman.
You can read it here.
Hope you enjoy it as much as we did.
Return of the Waxwing
February 21st, 2011 § Leave a Comment
It happens every year like clockwork. The weather warms, the trees being to bud and the sky rains poop.
Specifically poop of the Cedar Waxwing.
I was first introduced to the massive migratory groups of Waxwing last winter when, one day before heading out to work I grabbed an umbrella because I assumed, based on the consistent sound of light sprinklings, that the sky was falling in the H20 sense. Only when I actually stepped outside did I discover it was the constant, never-ending noise of roosting Waxwings. It seems when the weather starts warming, our pecan trees make the perfect home for these pretty yellow birds and their not-so-pretty brown poop.
Much as I appreciate their visit, I am looking forward to the days where I can safely walk to my car without the fear of being “rained” on.
You see me eat your children, you know what I am capable of.
February 16th, 2011 § Leave a Comment
This is my threat to Rueben (Ruby) the rooster after he attacked me this week. Mark my words, pretty soon there will be a BBQ at the doodle house featuring fresh chicken.
Wild At Heart
February 16th, 2011 § 1 Comment
Last Friday provided us with a brand new Austin experience—namely the opening of a new exhibit at the Harry Ransom Center.
The museum is located on The University of Texas campus and routinely features exhibits that offer expanded and intriguing looks at the most interesting bits of American culture. While I’ve frequented the museum on several occasions, this was my first opportunity to attend an opening. The event, Wild at Heart, celebrated the opening of two new exhibits: Becoming Tenessee Williams (a display of the playwrite’s notes, correspondence, photographs and manuscripts which provide insight into how the author came to be) and Culture Unbound: Collecting in the 21st Century.
An admiring fan of works like A Streetcar Named Desire (for which Stella is named) andThe Glass Menagerie, I was eager to see what new insights the exhibit could provide, and the HRC does openings right.
Approach the spectacular structure and expect to find some kind of event-appropriate emblem that welcomes guests. In this case an antique streetcar accompanied by a nearby string quartet that serenaded patrons with familiar tunes from the ’20s. Inside guests are treated to light hors d’oeuvres, wine and a signature cocktail. This one was a special brew created by the Balcones Distillery that proved to be delightfully toxic. “The New Orleans” was a sweet corn-mash whiskey which was equal parts irresistable and deadly. So deadly, in fact, that we somehow never made it through the entire exhibit.
Nevertheless! The event was wealthy in mingling opportunities, delightful delicacies and a reading of Night of the Iguana by Different Stages Theatre Company.
Of course, as is customary, the best part of the event is the parting goody bag.
Now we have enough books to keep us occupied until the next HRC extravaganza; there will be more in our future.
The food you love with the one(s) you love
February 13th, 2011 § Leave a Comment
Valentine’s Day has important meaning to we Robinsons. Yes, of course, like everyone else we like to celebrate our love by showing abundant affection for one another, but it’s also the anniversary of Bryan’s death. So we committed to taking that day to celebrate with many of the people we love and not just each other because life is short. And so was born the Valentine’s Dinner.
Last year was the first event. It included an evening at The Lighthouse with fondue and fixings and a brief viewing of Tyrannosaurus Sex on The Discovery Channel. This year we upped the guest list, lost the dino porn and hosted at The Doodle House. The event is on its way to becoming one of my favorite traditions.
This year’s guest list:
Eric & Lisa
Santiago & Alex
Rob & Kat
Mark & Ranjana (in spirit)
The menu:
Wedge salad
Olive oil mashed potatoes
Homemade honeywheat bread
Steamed veggies
Shrimp kabobs
Banana pudding
The six-hour wine and dine fiesta was filling both in conversation and food. Everything fromThe Game to peanut butter and onion sandwiches was up for discussion and the laughter and loving was ample. Why take a day and celebrate with one when you can celebrate with many?
