Audio Interview with Peggy Engels, Playwright of Red HOT PATRIOT Now Playing in Austin

During South-by-Southwest Event.  "Completion Complex" Featured for Creativity

© Russ Barnes, 2011

Margaret Engels is a playwright, a journalist, and a twin. Listen to all about that stuff, the creative voice, freedom of speech, and more at MP3 audio interview at:  http://bonmeasure.org/engels.mp3 The play is performed through the South by Southwest festival in Austin through March 13.

Not only was I impressed with her stage play written alongside her sister, Allison, which is an interesting story in itself.  But I was also impressed with the Zach Theatre production of it in Austin, and the actress who played the one woman show, Barbara Chisolm.   Standing ovation.  I especially liked it when Peggy said that “creativity requires a completion complex.”  It’s not just ideas.  It’s also about getting them implemented.  Meeting a deadline.  Our country, the United States, needs that kind of action and that kind of thought.

Check out the interview.  If you have a difficulty opening it, let me know and I will try to fix it for you.  The interview is sponsored by the American Creativiy Association of Austin.  For information about this global organization on creativity, open to you, send me a line at: russ@bonmeasure.org and I will get you in touch with the right folks to sign up.  We need your creativity for a better society and better individual fulfillment.

Molly Ivins at Austin Theater.

Okay,

I am going to do something a little different here.  I'm going to send along some comments about the play, a review of "Red Hot Patriot," by ACA Austin board member, Roberta.  This piece loses my usual thread, but I think Roberta's comments are worth it.  I also agree with Phyllis that we should not be political.  Our purpose is to create creativity wherever it can be manifest.  And that's it.  Democrat and Republican be damned both.  And may both blessed be.  But Molly spoke her mind.  And for that we honor her.

ACA Crew at Casa de Lux. Photo by Heather Hart

So in an unusual blog post, here is what Roberta, now my (russ') colleague, says:

Hey Creativity champions for the revitalized ACA-Austin,

       Talked with Russ this AM, who encouraged me to polish up the following "creative flow" that just had to spout out, this early AM from our "launch" of our first creative ACA-A adventure at the ZACH Theatre yesterday afternoon............    Wanted you both, Connie and Bud, to "be with us," so here are some "creative minutes" of that meeting..........  Open to corrections and feedback, all.

      After threading our way through the traffic for South By South West, Mardi Gras Weekend and the first days the fruit trees burst into bloom, we got to Casa de Luz. Lots springing forth around Austin this weekend.......

    ZACH had to hold the curtain for over 15 minutes, for all those determined enough to get themselves to the sold out house...... Thanks to the contributions of Bud and Connie, who filled our group of 10. We were able to give two tickets away "back to the house" for which they were very grateful......... 

   My write-up below is my "report to all" about our creative adventure to "open the door" of ACA-A reactivated in the glow of the HOT PATRIOT.   Where shall I send this.............

    By the way, Phyllis realized that her daughter Kathy could capture a photo of us with Barbara Chisholm after the performance. The former ACA-A  treasurer, Melissa is in the photo, too.

      I wish to nominate Barbara Chisholm as our first ACA-A Honorary Member........... She loved the interview with Russ on Friday and spent a good deal of time with us after the show...... Russ thinks he will have both the interview and photos by his friend, Heather, up on e-screens today.......  Stay tuned.

     We are launched.................

Roberta 

      

==========

                     Molly Ivins Did Say That! Thank goodness!
RED HOT PATRIOT: The Kick-Ass Wit of Mollie Ivins: ZACH Theatre, Austin, TX

Molly Ivins speaks again! Molly has been theatrically reincarnated on the stage ofthe Zachary Scott Theater. This daughter of Texas returns to us thanks to awardwinning playwrites, Allison and Margaret Engel, who have given local Austinactress, Barbara Chisholm, a powerful and historically accurate script to deliver toAustin audiences. The Engels’ play is convincingly staged, right down to the antiqueteletype machine that beats out the rhythms of a press room that comes alive on theZACH stage.

Kudos to the depth of artistic skill that creates this brilliant theatricalmagic. Nothing is more powerful than a true story, especially when the backdrop ishistory-viewed-large, with actual photos from “newspaper morgues.” For 90minutes, the audience is fast paced from birth to death, and back again, through asignificant period of history for this politically problematic bio-region, knowaffectionately as Tex-ass.” Chisholm, a dynamic red-head of impressive stature, likeMolly Ivins, built the creative energy of this well-staged historical vignette to thecrescendo of a standing ovation at the end. Molly is back, at least on stage, at leastfor this week.

This Texas larger-than-life review of our local heroine transports the audience backto a transformative period in Texas history, around the historically significant typewriterof Molly Ivins. She “lived large” among us, observing and reporting for her state-mates,as editor of the Texas Observer. The humor and the irony of Texans loving and hatingthe “limelight of being published” were captured with her humorous voice, deliveredwith spunk and sass. Only the more private Smith College Molly, the elegant and classygentle-woman from the Prep School in Houston, was missing for some of her localfriends who attended. Still, her great heart was felt, as the audience could not resistreacting to the force of personality coming from stage central. Some of us felt tearful asglimpses of past Tex-ass characters flowed in front of our eyes.

Molly lived and worked near the capitol center of the great political shift fromthe ole Tejas Democratic government of the people changed by the bon fires of theRepublican barbecue stampede that brought the Shrub to office. “I named him that,” shesaid. Molly knowingly spoke the truth, as only a Texan-born writer could do. Hopefully,Molly’s year on the New York Times’ best seller list will bring this exquisitely capturedAmerican heroine to wider audiences, to those across America who admired this Texas-tall woman who knew the difference between a tall tale and the truth, who wished to be remembered as a leader of “freedom fighters for free speech.”

Multi-dimensional Molly recognized and reported both the difference, and the political significance between a caring Texas statesman and a horse trader who come to town “to do his business at the “leg”-islature. It was the final “call to action” by Chisholm’s Molly, “to speak the truth to the dishonest power-mongers” that brought us all to our feet. The beginning of Molly’s mythology lives this week at the Zachary Scott Theatre, where she “emerges as the fierce Venus” archetype that she embodied among us. This play is not to be missed and needs to be held over another week, and seen in theatrers across the America which Molly loved, traveled and worked

(c) Roberta Shoemaker-Beal, Wimberley, Texas; Creatas@aol.com

More on The Red Hot Patriot: Molly Ivins @

http://www.zachtheatre.org/sites/default/files/pdf/Molly-Ivins-play-at-ZACH-Theatre.pdf
http://www.npr.org/2011/02/17/133847166/Molly-Ivins-A-Red-Hot-Patriot

Kick-Ass Theater, Creativity and Molly Ivins

This is an unusual post for me.  It's not my usual post.  But it is extraordinary.  So I publish it.  Most of it comes from Roberta, a board member of the American Creativity Association of Austin Texas.  I publish her words.  Its a review of a stage play in Austin about a creative Journalist, Molly Ivans, a creative, a fierce, and a funny journalist.  We at ACA-Austin had a ball experiencing this play in Austin yesterday.  Now Molly was a Democrat.  She gave Republicans a hard time.  Phyllis, one of our board members, cautions us against playing up the "liberal" side because creativity comes up wherever it comes up. That's true. I'll just leave you with Roberta's words and review.  You can make up your mind.  We would like you to become part of us, whoever you happen to be: an entrepreneur, a quilter, a bricklayer, a writer, a jewelry maker, a psychotherapist, whatever.  You can reach me at russ@bonmeasure.org.  Here's Roberta.  Don't miss her perceptions: (Oh, a few pictures courtesy of Heather Hart.  More to come later.  Get yourself on the mailing list to see everything.)  Hey, y'all, comment.  We need your words.
-- Russ

From Roberta:

Hey Creativity champions for the revitalized ACA-Austin,

       Talked with Russ this AM, who encouraged me to polish up the following "creative flow" that just had to spout out,  this early AM from our the "launch of our first creative ACA-A adventure at the ZACH Theatre yesterday afternoon............    Wanted you both, Connie and Bud, to "be with us," so here are some "creative minutes" of that meeting..........  Open to corrections and feedback, all.

      After threading our way through the traffic for South By South West, Mardi Gras Weekend and the first days the fruit trees burst into bloom, we got to Casa. Lots springing forth around Austin this weekend.......

    ZACH had to hold the curtain for over 15 minutes, for all those determination enough got them to the sold out house...... Thanks to the contributions of Bud and Connie, who filled our group of 10. We were able to give two tickets "back to the house" for which they were very grateful......... 

   My write-up below is my "report to all" about our creative adventure to "open the door" of ACA-A reactivated in the glow of the HOT PATRIOT.   Where shall I send this.............

    By the way, Phyllis realized that her daughter Kathy could capture a photo of us with Barbara Chisholm after the performance. The former ACA-A  treasurer, Melissa is in the photo, too.

      I wish to nominate Barbara Chisholm as our first ACA-A Honorary Member........... She loved the interview with Russ on Friday and spent a good deal of time with us after the show...... Russ thinks he will have both the interview and photos by his friend heather, up on e-screens today.......  Stay tuned.

     We are launched.................

Roberta 

      

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

                            Molly Ivins Did Say That! Thank goodness!

  RED HOT PATRIOT: The Kick-Ass Wit of Mollie Ivins: ZACH Theatre, Austin, TX

        Molly Ivins speaks again! Molly has been theatrically reincarnated on the stage of the Zachary Scott Theater. The award wining play rights, Iowa twins Allison and Margaret Engel, have given local Austin actress, Barbara Chisholm, a powerful and historically accurate script to deliver to Austin audiences. The Engel’s write from the perspective of Molly Ivin’s national significance, as highly creative journalism teachers, themselves. The Engels’ play is convincingly staged, right down to the antique teletype machine that beats out the rhythms of the press room that came alive on the ZACH stage.  Kudos to the depth of artistic skill that creates this brilliant theatrical magic. Nothing is more powerful than a true story, especially when the backdrop is history-viewed-large, with actual photos from “newspaper morgues.”  For 90 minutes, the audience is fast paced from birth to death, and back again, through a significant period of history for this politically problematic bio-region, know affectionately as Tex-ass.”  Chisholm, a dynamic red-head of impressive stature, like Molly Ivins, built the creative energy of this well-staged historical vignette to the crescendo of a standing ovation at the end.  Molly is back, at least on stage, at least for this week.

     This Texas larger-than-life review of our local heroine transports the audience back to a transformative period in Texas history, around the historically significant typewriter of Molly Ivins.  She “lived large” among us, observing and reporting for her state-mates, as editor of the Texas Observer. The humor and the irony of Texans loving and hating the “limelight of being published” were captured with her humorous voice, delivered with spunk and sass.  Only the more private Smith College Molly, the elegant and classy gentle-woman from the Prep School in Houston, was missing for some of her local friends who attended. Still, her great heart was felt, as the audience could not resist reacting to the force of personality coming from stage central. Some of us felt tearful along the way, with glimpses Tex-ass characters flowing our history in front of our eyes.  

         Molly lived and worked near the capitol center of the great political shift from the ole Tejas Democratic government of the people changed by the bon fires of the Republican barbecue stampede that brought the Shrub to office. “I named him that,” she said. Molly knowingly spoke the truth, as only a Texan-born writer could do. Hopefully, Molly’s year on the New York Times’ best seller list will bring this exquisitely captured American heroine to wider audiences, to those across America who admired this Texas-tall woman who knew the difference between a tall tale and the truth, who wished to be remembered as a leader of  “freedom fighters” and free speech.  Multi-dimensional Molly recognized and reported both the difference, and the political significance between a caring Texas statesman and a horse trader who come to town “to do his business on the ledge.” It was the final call to action by Chisholm’s Molly, “to speak the truth to the dishonest power-mongers” that brought us all to our feet. The beginning of Molly’s mythology lives this week at the Zachary Scott Theatre, where she “emerges as the fierce Venus” archetype that she embodied among us.  This play is not to be missed and needs to be held over another week, and seen in theatres across the America which Molly loved, traveled and worked.  

A Remembrance of Molly Ivins

A CREATIVE TEXAN

[NOTE: Guest writer Bud Wurtz had the luck to spend an evening with Molly Ivins.  Here's his story.  It provides unique background to ACA Austin's event celebrating the new reach of the the Austin creativity association on Sunday, March 6 at Zach Theatre's "Red Hot Patriot: the Kick-Ass Wit of Molly Ivins."  For more information on ACA Austin go to: http://community.icontact.com/p/americancreativityassociation/newsletters/austin/posts/american-creativity-association-austin-launch. Thanks, Bud.]


By (c) William (“Bud”) Wurtz
Board Member, American Creativity Association - Austin

I had the privilege of spending an evening with Molly Ivins back in June 2005. Molly had come to College Station, Texas speak to the Brazos Valley chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union.

I was the chapter president at the time, and Molly’s appearance was a life-saver for the group. A few like-minded civil libertarians had banded together as Board members to revitalize the chapter, situated in the shadow of the George H.W. Bush Presidential Library on  the Texas A&M University campus.

Of course, it was the first President Bush who had famously stigmatized Michael Dukakis in the 1988 presidential campaign for being “a card-carrying ACLU member”; this, along with the notorious Willie Horton ad, is (probably) what helped Bush beat Dukakis.

The damage to the ACLU has lingered past that particular campaign, to some extent marginalizing the organization. It is though this group, devoted to defending the Bill of Rights and extending its protections to all Americans, became in the public’s mind somehow responsible for the putative breakdown in law-and-order. Mr. Bush’s was a popular view in the very conservative precincts of south central Texas and no doubt helps explain why the chapter had become moribund in the first place.  Molly, a proud member of and staunch advocate for the ACLU, was particularly scornful of her fellow Texans “tuff on crime” attitudes.

Our ACLU chapter was hoping that a “big-name” speaker of some sort would bring much needed attention and revenues to our struggling cause. Since we had no money to pay for travel or an honorarium, we needed someone who had some name recognition, was somehow at least vaguely associated with civil liberties, lived within driving distance, and would be willing to come to College Station and speak for free. These exacting requirements made for a very short list of possibilities, but Molly’s name was on it. And to our great surprise and delight, she readily agreed to do a presentation based on readings from her many books and articles.

I was to learn during the presentation why Molly accepted our offer. Though she won numerous prestigious awards for journalism over her lifetime, Molly claimed in her mischievous manner that thetwo greatest honors accorded her were 1) having the pig mascot of the Minneapolis police department named after her and 2) being banned from speaking on the campus of Texas A&M University. What could please a committed civil libertarian more than the opportunity to exercise her First Amendment rights within a couple of blocks of where she had been forbidden to speak?

(I should probably explain here that I was in College Station attending A&M at the time, and that I am an loyal Aggie grad – PhD 2008 – who is proud of my school’s outstanding record of academic excellence and its many grand traditions and spirit. That said, it must also be noted that no one is likely to confuse the political leanings, culture and lifestyle of the A&M campus and its environs, situated in the twin cities of Bryan-College Station, Texas with, say, the University of California – Berkeley and the Bay Area.)

With Molly booked, I and the other Board members confidently began our planning for the event.  Dreaming big, we projected the event would attract as many as 75 people, this despite the fact that  College Station would be in its typical summer lull at the end of the academic year. (Even a couple of Board members couldn’t attend because they had already booked foreign travel during the summer.)  So I trudged down to the College Station Hilton and put my credit card down to reserve a sliver of the mammoth ballroom.

We then began our sophisticated advertising campaign promoting Molly’s appearance with free promos on the progressive community radio station and with photocopied flyers posted on the bulletin boards of area retail stores and restaurants, along with plain old word-of-mouth. And the ticket requests started to roll in … and then more … and then more … until we had received a total of just under 400 orders. I had to go back to the hotel to book more space; eventually we booked the entire ballroom.

We were flabbergasted. So was the State ACLU staff who drove Molly – one of their most prized assets, whom they determinedly protected --over from Austin for the event. I had told the executive director in advance that Molly’s appearance was becoming the big social event of the summer in College Station.  But he remained skeptical until he escorted Molly into the ballroom and saw the hordes of people waiting to hear her. At that point his jaw dropped, followed by a grin as large as Texas.

I first actually met Molly after introducing her and welcoming her to the lectern. She was slender, her hair curly and short that particular evening, dressed simply in recognition of having to endure the 180-mile round trip between Austin and College Station in a crowded van on a typically hot-and-humid Texas
summer day.

She captivated the audience from the very start, reading her pieces in that distinctive Texas accent, seasoned with her sly, low key wit. The end of each reading was greeted with loud guffaws and enthusiastic applause.

My favorite reading performed by Molly that evening was this one, found in her book, Who Let the Dogs In?: Incredible Political Animals I Have Known (New York: Random House, 2004, pp. 246-7).

“On a blazing hot summer day last year, the director of the Central Texas chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union was frantically phoning members to announce that the First Amendment was in peril from the Austin City Plan Commission. The First Amendment tends to be under steady fire in the Great State, but the Austin City Plan Commission is rarely found on the side of jackbooted fascism. What happened was, the Reverend Mark Weaver, a  fundamentalist divine with a strong local following, hell-bent on driving all the dirty bookstores out of town – he had come up with a zoning scheme by which this was to be accomplished.

The Plan Commission held a hearing that night attended by more than three hundred members of Weaver’s group, Citizens Against Pornography, and by six members of the Civil Liberties Union. The Libertarians flocked together. Nothing like sitting in the midst of sea of Citizens Against Pornography to make you notice that your friends all look like perverts.

“The Reverend Weaver rose to address the Commission. An eloquent preacher, he took right off into the tale of a woman who lives directly behind the pornography theater on South Congress Avenue. The very day before, she had watched a man come out of that theater after the five-o’clock show, go into the alley behind the theater, right behind her house, and … masturbate.

Three hundred Citizens Against and the members of the Plan Commission all sucked in their breath in horror. Made a very odd sound. “YES,” continued the Reverend Weaver, “that man MASTURBATED right in the alley, right BEHIND that lady’s house. And she has two little who might have SEEN it – if it weren’t for the wooden fence around her yard.” And with that the Reverend Weaver jerked the stopper and cussed sin up a storm. It looked bad for the First Amendment.

“When it came their turn, the Libertarians huddled together and decided to send up their oldest living member. He shuffled to the mike, gray hair thin on top, a face marked with age spots and old skin cancers, one eye long since. He spoke with a courtly Southern accent. “Members of the Plan Commission, Reverend Weaver, Citizens Against, ladies and gentlemen. My name is John Henry Faulk. I am seventy-four years old. I was born and raised in South Austin, not a quarter ofa mile from where the pornography theater stands today. I think y’all know that there was a lot of masturbation in South Austin before there was ever a pornography theater there.” Even the Citizens Against laughed, and the First was saved for another day.

“Thirty years ago John Henry Faulk destroyed the blacklisting system that had terrified the
entertainment industry during the McCarthy era. His was one of the spectacular show trials of
that sorry time; he won the largest libel award that had been granted in the United States ($3.5 million) and was honored up to his eyebrows by freedom lovers everywhere. Then he went back to Texas – broke, his career still ruined – never saw any of the money, and learned you can’t eat honor. This is the story of John Henry Faulk’s life since Louis Nizer won out over Roy Cohn in their courtroom battle about whether the man called the Will Rogers of his generation was actually a communist.”

It is a classic Molly story, told in her inimitable style. She captures the distinctive dialect of Texans, along with the pomposity of the Great State, driven by a writing style that is understated yet somehow florid at the same time. There is playfulness, along with a hint of naughtiness, but also a more serious purpose. For, of course, once you get past all of the hilarity of people at their silliest, the story is about the tragedy of a good and decent man, a man who despite past defeats continues to stand up for what he believes in well into old age. Molly suckers us in, lowering our defenses with the humor, and then wallops us with a very powerful and pointed punch.

After the reading ended, many of the audience came up to greet Molly, some to get her to autograph their copy of one of Molly’s books. People milled around the ballroom chatting loudly and excitedly for quite some time, a reliable indicator of a successful event. But, finally, as people started to leave and the crowd dwindled, Molly, the ACLU staffers and I adjourned to the hotel bar.

I can’t recall who or when, but sometime that evening someone had whispered to me that there were growing concerns about Molly’s health, fears that her breast cancer, which had twice been battled into remission, might be recurring. (In fact, that diagnosis was confirmed later in the year; she died on January 31, 2007.) Yet Molly was the same bright, funny, sassy person hoisting a few with a small group of friends and supporters as she was on stage. About the only noticeable change was that her disparaging opinions of certain political figures were not quite as understated as in print or at the lectern.

Like her good friend and hero, John Henry Faulk, Molly Ivins fought to the end for what she believed in, for civil liberties and human freedom. Molly fought the good fight, with humor not hatred. She recognized that all people are prone to folly, and the most appropriate remedy is to lampoon it, all the while reveling in and celebrating the great human comedy.

Since graduating and leaving Texas, my energies have been poured more and more into promoting creativity development. I remain a committed ACLU member, though not as active as before, guilty of frequently being late with my membership dues as many impatient renewal notices remind me. But I recognize that the link between civil liberties and creativity is inextricable: you can only be creative to the extent that you are free. The fight is the same. Molly Ivins taught me that you can have one hell of a good time fighting that fight.

Molly Ivins, World Creativity, and Austin

 By (c) Russ Barnes

AUSTIN, Texas.   It seems anyone who loves to travel also loves other creative solutions -- whether it be a simple puzzle, a recipe, or an international perplexity.  There is a common thread to all.

I’ll make this personal.  I love to travel.  Travel forces me to bring together things in my brain I would never have associated otherwise.  Bringing disparate things together in a disciplined way is both pleasant and -- guess what? -- it helps not only with survival, but prosperity.  Interested?

Iconoclast and creative, Molly Ivins

About creativity (of which travel can be a subset if rightly pursued). In the past I served on the board of directors for the American Creativity Association.  I since went on to other committed responsibilities having to do with advocating creative discipline and fulfillment.  During that time, I stayed in touch with my old ACA colleagues, Bud Wurtz and Marilyn Schoeman, both past presidents of ACA.  When the two of them approached me recently about expanding the reach of the Austin, Texas chapter of ACA to a national and global dimension, I was hooked.

Why?  Because I love the peculiar (what Austinites call “wierd”) creativity of Austin.  Somehow that wierd sort of creativity seems to fit the modern world: from Bangor to Tallahassee, from Philly to ‘Frisco, from Minneapolis to Sante Fe, from Kansas City to San Diego.  Ever further, from London to Shanghai, from Moscow to Cairo, from Nairobi to Capetown, from Sydney to Buenos Aires.

You get the idea.  Austin’s unusual, funky, democratic creative spirit, pluck, and industry has something singular in store for all these places, and, of course, more.  That may be one of the reasons The Atlantic Monthly magazine published a ranking of the thirty most dynamic cities in the world.  Austin was one of them and the only one so ranked in the United States.

ACA Austin wants, I think, to be the global conduit for practical and personally fulfilling creativity.

You gotta start somewhere.  Hey, what about Austin?

And ACA Austin begins this weekend here with a kick-off “social” centered around Zach Theatre.  Just to demonstrate our style, our panache.  Old Austin creative advocates and practitioners will be there.  And so will new devotees from other parts.  A band of creative brothers and sisters will assemble at 1:00 p.m., March 6 for a “social” at Cafe de Luz and then to witness across the street the stage production (at 2:30 p.m.) of “Red Hot Patriot: The Kick-Ass Wit of Molly Ivins.”  Molly is an Austin icon, (or should I say, “iconoclast”) and, as heroine in the popular stage play, she will set the tone and the stage for many surprising materials and events upcoming from ACA  Austin.

ACA Austin is scheduled to interview the actress who performs the one-woman stage play, the artistic director of the theater, and the two (twin) playwrights of the play.  Let us know if you are interested in witnessing these vibrant interviews drilling down on the essence of creativity and its special relationship to Austin and the world. Inform us if you would like to know how to get affiliated with future ACA Austin events and materials.

We would like to have you around.  We advocate many benefits generated by creativity.  But one of the effective qualities we like about creative discipline and personal creative fulfillment is “heart.”   We like each other, and we like to reach others through “heart.”  We know that “heart,” love of our own materials, our game, our passion, our creativity, our art is universal and that is what the world needs encouragement from us now.

Look for the next ACA Austin’s events.  They may pleasantly surprise you and challenge you.  Drop us a line at ACA Austin (russ@bonmeasure.org).  We’ll set you up with the communications we have at hand for your preferences and desires.

One thing Molly said, and I listened, “If you’re in a hole, stop digging.”  Creativity helps you to stop diggin’.  P. S.  If you are going to the play another time, or just can’t get to it right now, come to the “social” at Casa de Luz.  Just mosey right in.  You will be welcomed by creatives.
=====================================
Some links you might want to consider looking at are:
ACA Austin newsletter -- http://community.icontact.com/p/americancreativityassociation/newsletters/austin/posts/american-creativity-association-austin-launch
Connie Harryman, President, audio address -- http://bonmeasure.org/ConnieHarryman.mov
Press Release for journalists and newsletter editors -- http://bonmeasure.org/PRCreativeAustin.pdf
For a review of “Red Hot Patriot” -- http://www.austinchronicle.com/arts/2011-02-04/red-hot-patriot-the-kick-ass-wit-of-molly-ivins.
For more information on Zach Theatre -- http://www.zachtheatre.org
Questions? -- russ@bonmeasure.org

HICKORY PASS RANCH #14

THE REST IS ANOTHER STORY

LAST DAYS

By (c) Russ Barnes. All rights reserved: text.

NOTE:  Today is my birthday, 2010, and I conclude the journals of my stay at Hickory Pass Ranch near Marble Falls, Texas.  The story follows and concludes:

By MID AUGUST,  I was nearing the end of my stay at Hickory Pass Ranch.  Back to my urban life –- not born again, but with an incremental difference. 

Sirius, the Big Dog star

On one of my last nights at the ranch, Jacquelyn and the three girls were staying in the Big House.  I heard them fire up three of their four-wheelers.  And one of the girls, the eleven-year-old, Ava, steered by the guesthouse to invite me out with them to see the annual August meteor shower.  Shooting stars over Texas skies.

I got on the back of the four-wheeler Ava was driving, and we followed everyone else down the ranch road.  Murphy ran back and forth between the vehicles, biting at the tires.  

Jacquelyn had brought along blankets and pillows and all five of us lay out beneath the Texas sky and watched the celestial extravaganza.  We identified constellations: Scorpius, Sagittarius, Aquilla, the Big Dipper pointing toward the North Star, Polaris. And of course there was Sirius, that star known in English as the Big Dog.  Well, we had him right there among us, Murphy, sniffing around and wondering what this camp-out was all about.

One of the girls said to me, "I think Murphy likes you better than he likes us."  I replied, " I don’t think so.  He seems really happy when you all come to the ranch." Her mother commented -- with wise diplomacy, "That’s true."

Sensing my downhearted feelings about leaving Murphy behind, Joe said to me, "Dogs are good people."

Next morning, Karen made a visit on my next to the last day at the ranch.  She sat on a couch in the guesthouse. Murph was stretched out beside me, tail wagging slowly while keeping one sleepy eye on me to make sure I didn’t make a move.  Karen had arrived for a last visit.  As she sat on the couch in the guesthouse, I patted Murphy on his flank and impulsively spoke to him, "My bud."  Karen tilted her head to the right.   And sighed.  And smiled a half understanding smile.

It is my last day.  All packed.  I’m back now in Austin at Karen and Joe’s.

I go to the Seminary of the Southwest two days in a row for two separate counsels which I need.  I hear the same message,  “Follow the spirit.”  Doesn’t sound like it, but it is practical advice.  Still have anxiety.  But I feel secure.

I wait to catch my plane back to Washington.  As I pack my things into Karen’s red Miata, Ken, my new friend, from across the way shouts across the street, “Goodbye, Russ.“  Joe is at work.  Karen drives me to the airport.  I take my two bags out of her car’s back storage space.  Karen hugs me.  Then I turn my back and walk away.  The rest is another story.

--THE END--

=====================================

CREDITS

My gratitude to the Mouton family: Jacquelyn and David; Lia , Ava, and Maddie -- for their hospitality, generosity, humor, fun, parties, rocks, whimsicality, and for man’s best friend -- for a while -- Murphy, who was a challenge -- but I loved him.

My gratitude also to Karen Alexander and Joe Heidelmeier:  

Karen for her loyalty, her subtle penetrating and realistic intelligence, her drop-dead accurate advice, her true aesthetic values and sense, her beauty as a person, and her cool femininity.

And Joe for his stories, his masculine guidance, his friendship, his fun, the maturity of his understanding, his power as an outdoorsman, his humor, and for his astonishingly equipped old truck, Silver, of which I also became fond.


My many thanks also to Anne Tongren who has expertly edited these posts and without whose help I could have never come to the perceptions I have arrived at in this series of posts.

HICKORY PASS RANCH #13

WAFFLES, MAPLE SYRUP, & A HARMONICA

-- DAY 21

By (c) Russ Barnes.  All rights reserved: text & photo

July 28, 2008, Monday.  My actual birthday.  The girls make me waffles.  These little girls treat me like a king.  I am serene. They give me the best maple syrup.   I am hale and hearty. 

Gifts from Anne

I open Anne’s presents from a pretty box I bring all the way from Washington.  There is a harmonica.  Perfect for “Home on the Range.”   The dog goes wild when he hears that harmony.  I love the Byron Katie stuff on the CD Anne packs.  [“Is that true?” Byron Katie asks.]  And a jar of Indian herbs good for making squash soup. 

Taking it easy today.  No writing.  Just meditating, pacing.

I’m thinking about what Joe says.  He says, Karen never could work with a man.  I countered, “She could work with me."  Joe said, “You were different.  You made her feel good about herself.”  I said to Joe, “She was good about herself .” He says, “Yes, that's true.”

NEVER MARRY THE CHEERLEADER

Joe tells me much about the troubles in his first marriage, which was brief.  His advice: “Never marry the cheerleader.” 

The dog is not around me today.  He’s been with the girls all day and they put him through different sorts of paces.  I’ll let him rest and then I’ll run his butt off again.

I realize I have only nine or ten days before my plane returns to Baltimore.  I have been a happy camper here at Hickory Pass Ranch.  I have no idea what my situation will be like when I get back to Washington.  In preparation, I contact Trinity Episcopal Church in Marble Falls and the Seminary of the Southwest in Austin for possible counseling about my return.  Graciously, they make arrangements for meetings scheduled for the two days I will spend in Austin before my departure.

It’s a scary time for me.  But I have had such a positive experience here, have gotten so much work done, have had so much friendship, so much fun -- even joy --  and cooperation that I feel energized even in the face of uncertainty.

I remember in another context saying to myself in a moment of doubt, “My heart is beating and I am a free man.”  For all the trouble in life, there is nothing better than that.

To be continued tomorrow.

Go to sequel #1, #2, #3, #4, #5, #6 ,#7, #8, #9, #10, #11 #12, #13

HICKORY PASS RANCH #12

ROCKS, FOSSILS, & A CAMERA

-- DAY 20

By (c) Russ Barnes.  All rights reserved: Text.

July 27, 2008, Sunday.  This is the actual celebration of my birthday.  The real birthday is tomorrow.  This date is usual because my brother Doug’s birthday is July 26, and we always celebrated in between the two birthdays, July 27.  And it is a great day.  Blue sky.  Tall sky over central Texas.  We’ve got the girls, the three daughters, who arrive.   They play monopoly.  They give me rocks for my birthday.  Fossils.  I adore these.  Even heavy, I will take them back to Rockville in my luggage.  Joe and I go out to a new tank.  Big holes.  Beavers.  Jacquelyn brings the best cut of steak anyone can imagine.  Joe ages it.  Herbs it.  Barbecues it slowly.  It is a feast.  Joe picks up the religious imagery laughing,  “And God said it was a pleasing scent.”

Bell, poblano, & serrano peppers

Karen can’t make it as she has to work in the sewing machine shop today.  But she sends a scrumptious chocolate cake.

THE CREW PERFORMS ON STAGE

Now I engineer a reading of CRABS ALIVE!  Somehow I know Texans will understand this play which is the one I need to work on next.  So the whole crew comes down to my guest house.  I set up the computer.  I sit in the background.  I am not the star.  My desire is to make them stars.  The three daughters take turns reading the female character, Jovita.  Joe reads the part of Captain Charlie.

Somehow George Washington, “father” of our country, occurs to me on this day.  Washington was a solid man with character.  Mary Custis, his wife, had a fortune, land, and slaves.   It was in some ways, her fortune that brought the United States of America into being.  She had some kind of powerful faith in her husband, George Washington.  And her inheritance and plantation land fueled the founding of an idea that reverberates around the world even today.  George would have been nothing without his lady.  He was tough.  But not self-sufficient.

WHAT IS THE GREATEST?

I opened my present from Robbin.  It  makes me weep to see it and the affection I feel for her over it.  I have wanted a digital camera for over ten years.  Because photos are an important part of reporting.  I’m not the greatest eye for the camera, but I am pretty good,  I am not the best piano player in the world, but I do have a bit of soul.  I am not the best lover in the world, but there are some who like what I do because I really do love them, appreciate them.  And I show that within the best of my power.

Coals for a portion of the barbecue

I can write.  Especially plays.  They are not the best ever written.  But in the human catalogue of communication, they will be among the best.  For somewhere, someone in time, my words will be salvation or at least enlightenment.  Not the biggest deal in the world.  But will get someone through where they need to get to.  And this may be for centuries.  And they are for people whom we need to get empowered upon our earth.  That’s why I’m here.  I’m here to empower people.

I talk with Robbin later in the evening about Stacey and David.  Appalling behavior.  Makes me sad.  Tender for Stacey.  She has been, I perceive, trying.

Getting near the end of my stay at Hickory Pass Ranch.

To be continued tomorrow.

Go to sequel #1, #2, #3, #4, #5, #6 ,#7, #8, #9, #10, #11

HICKORY PASS RANCH #11

BIRTHDAYS ARE A-COMIN' 
-- DAYS 18 & 19

By (c) Russ Barnes.  All rights reserved: Text.

July 24, 2008, Thursday.  I write like crazy. Plumbers arrive about 9:15.  Hurricane rain starts.  Gets heavy.  Streams all over the place.  Texas has no sewers or gutters for run-off.  Plumbers work in the rain. Joe shows up about 11:30 a.m.  We talk and talk.  Story after story.  He scrutinizes Murphy.  He says, “This dog has improved.  Needs to be around a man.  Stays outside.  Follows tracks.  Girls are 'good people'.  But a dog needs a man.  Any animal that licks its own ass for pleasure can’t be all bad.”

Jacquelyn shows up with four girls.  It's Maddy's thirteenth birthday and three friends have come along to celebrate.  Joe and I go down to the tank and look for pigs.  Nothing moving but the jumping fish.  We come back up to the guesthouse.  We talk until 11:30 p.m. about aging.  He talks about hard-scrabble growing up.  About the chicken farm in West Virginia.  And the fish in Florida.  He talks about growing up hard-scrabble, but it’s really not that different when it really comes down to life, its pleasures and its troubles.  

Joe talks about his dad dying.  His mother wouldn’t take care of him then.  He had a heart attack in a bar.  And a guy resuscitated him and broke a rib doing so.  Then he had a cancerous pancreas.  Joe and Karen were living in Las Vegas at the time.  Joe drove all the way to Florida.  Put his dad in the back seat with everything he owned, and drove his him all the way back to Las Vegas.  Karen and Joe took care of him for a year and a half.  He was “a tough mother-f**ker,” Joe says.  When his dad died, it It was the hardest thing in his life.  


WE DISCUSS DEPRESSION

I describe my depression at the death of my parents in 1991.  Joe says, “depression doesn’t describe it.  I have not recovered yet.  I just don’t have the faculties I used to.  I can shoot a deer at three-hundred yards right between the eyes.  But I have trouble gettin’ outa the truck. You know, Russ, this is all just fun.  When the fun is gone -- that’s it.  The switch will turn off.  I said, ”I think I have at least a good twenty years left.”  Joe said, “You run that road on your bicycle like you do and you might just make it, Captain.”

“I just don’t want to have to start over again,” Joe said, rather mournfully.

I told him about how I got over my depression. At that time it had to do with the smiles from girls while I crossed over Key Bridge on the sidewalk to Georgetown one day, and then eating two plates of mussels.  Appetite back.  Joe says, “That's like New Orleans, Russ.”

We talk into the night about girlfriends.  Joe says, “Listen to that shit over there in the big ranch house.  They’re watching a dancing movie.  But it’s a bonding thing goin’ on over there.  Those little girls with a mother, giggling and stuff.  That’s happy stuff.”

Joe wants to know what was the love of my life.  I am puzzled.  He says, ”This one woman.  Now listen up.  I had a practice marriage.  Then I married this blond Texas woman, and it is good. I mean good.  She is my partner and I love her dearly.  Forever.  But there was one woman. I’ll never forget her even till I breathe my last breath.  I still communicate with her sometime.  Unforgettable, Captain.”

FISH, ANIMALS, WOMEN, GRASS, TREES, & DIRT

One thing I realize.  I can write better in Texas than I can in Washington.  The language is so direct here.  It’s fish, animals, women, grass, trees, dirt, water, sky, snakes, food, and the blues.  In Washington, language is circuitous.  It beats around the bush by passive voice and jargon.  Joe says every day, “Life is good in the brush.”  And the language reflects that simplicity.  I am writing better here.

July 26, 2008, Saturday.  I take the dog, Murphy, on a big hike.  Take him again down the road to Cow Creek.  Me on my bicycle.  He heels to my right, next to the front tire.  Just fine.  It is a stretch for him as he is a back yard dog.  I have him way out in the country as I have done with all my dogs.  He was so nifty as he was smart enough to get over all the cattle crossings -- which Joe says takes intelligence in an animal.  

COW CREEK

This was like a twelve mile trip both ways over big hills.  I bring water and a bowl for Murphy in my little blue bike carton.  We get down to the swimming hole.  I strip off my clothes and wade in. Up to my neck.  Do the back stroke.  Murphy tentative.  But he takes the plunge.  Swimming all over the place.  Jumping back onto land.  Shaking off and jumping back in.  I am encouraging:  “Yee-haa!  Go Murphy! Swim!”  

We go back uphill.  It is a hard pull through this hill country.  The sky is tall blue and the green yellow leaves of the live oak make a contrast against the blue sky you can gaze at it all day.  These trees are not like dark tall oaks of the east, but rather are all craggy and twiggy and kind of snarly with air-plants living on the limbs.  I wave to all the motorists along the way raising four fingers off the right handlebar.  That salutation means you know Texas friendly.  Murphy and I go through the ranch gate.  Up another 1/2 mile.  Tough ride for dog and man.  Murphy is out like a light after a cool draught of water.

WANNA TAKE MURPHY HOME WITH YOU???

Jacquelyn’s husband, David, shows up to check out the ranch plumbing.  He says, “That dog seems awful relaxed.”  Well, I guess so.  He says, “You can take him back to Washington.  Why don’t you?  We’ll pay for his airfare.”  I say.  “Love this dog.  But where I live I would have to put him on a leash, and I don’t believe in doing that with a dog.  I feel it is cruel.  Furthermore he would attack policemen on the street.”

Jacquelyn arrives with her brood and is a bit concerned that I took Murphy on such a hard ride.  So is the ranch manager.  Well, I think, I friggin' made the journey at 65 years old.  So can Murphy at eight and a half months.  I say, "The dog is working out.  I mean we’re improving his cardiovascular system.  He will get better going on these trips.  Dogs need to run!"  Then Maddy says, "Yeah, it’s just like basketball.  He’ll get in better shape."  Murphy sleeps practically for two days.  Good for him.  Texans are known to be tough.  But I perceive we guys from western Pennsylvania are pretty tough too.

To be continued tomorrow.

Go to sequel #1, #2, #3, #4, #5, #6, #7, #8, #9, #10, #12