Austin360 blogs > Out & About > Archives > 2010 > July
July 2010
Young Women’s Alliance’s Fashion Evolution at the Driskill Hotel
Young Women’s Alliance’s Fashion Evolution reminds us that models stalk the runway at least once a week in Austin these days. It’s possible to classify these sartorial displays in an Aristotelian manner.
Alessandra Robles and Yuvraj Pahuja
Most informal are the club shows, designed for the youngest fashion followers, although sometimes quite polished, as in swimwear designer Stacy Kenyon’s fluid assemblage at the Phoenix earlier this season. On the other end of the spectrum, you pick up the sleek charity and luxury retail shows. These include frequent events at Neiman Marcus, Saks and Nordstrom, as well as established nonprofit galas, such as the buttoned-down Crystal Ball for Helping Hands Home for Children and the unbuttoned Viva Las Vegas for AIDS Services of Austin.
Kappie Bliss and Tracy Tenpenny
In between, Austin fashionistas can enjoy shows at boutiques and smaller charity parties, or even on sidewalks, as was recently the case on West Second Street. The Fashion Evolution for Young Women’s Alliance falls smack in the middle. It’s large enough to attract a mob of several hundred admirers to the upper lobby at the grand Driskill Hotel, filling the coffers for its foundation run by young leaders. And yet it’s not so formal that one might mistake it for something out of New York’s fashion week.
John Resendez and Mary Catlin
The first clue is the male attendees. Friday, many looked dragged to the party, directly from unexpected places. (No, I didn’t document these misfortunes in photographs.) To be fair, other men were dressed in soft, summer attire that would look appropriate in any Austin restaurant or club. The women, of course, put on the glam — on the cocktail end of the scale.
Andrew Dickson Lindsey Finken
The less said about the food and drinks the better. Anyway, the rooms were full of fascinating people willing to engage in fascinating conversations. The fresh social stars of the evening were Alessandra Robles & Yuvraj Pahuja, recently moved from Dubai and both in the jewelry business. Escorted by connector Allen Beuershausen, they met almost everyone.
Eventually, the show began. As is my wont, I stood near a wall, not up close, sharing observations with new acquaintance Austin Presley, who asked the most adroit questions about the show and my role covering it. (Some people have a gift for curiosity.) Rachelle Briton’s mixed wear led the parade, showing off the lanky Wilhelmina Brown models, who seem to have cornered the market on legs in this town.
Brittany Moore and Austin Presley
Then mod menswear from Alonzo. Languid presentation, although the women in the audience responded as if the male models were going to take off much more than an accessory or two. (Can we drop this practice in Austin?) Like a vision, out came the Linda Asaf creations, smoothly draped, flowing, derived from fun fabrics and kicky cuts. The models appeared to swim through the night in Asaf’s dreamy clothes.
Despite some bumps, it turned out to be a thoroughly enjoyable evening. Again, scored right there in the middle regions of Austin’s fashion range.
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Report: Anti-Defamation League True Colors of Diversity Party at Bouldin residence
Just down the street, Club Red was rallying its young leaders for the Red Cross of Central Texas at the Gibson Bar. Meanwhile, the party at Jason Berkowitz’s high-design Bouldin house was just getting underway. This raised money from the young leaders of the Austin Anti-Defamation League.
Ben Kogut and Jennifer Kim
The party was carefully planned. Guests gathered in the cool front yard of Berkowitz’s metal-accented house. A singer in one corner, a bar in the other. The house remained mysteriously closed. Eventually, servers arrived with voluptuous sushi and other delicacies to excite this strikingly handsome and well groomed crew.
Karen Kelly and Karen Gross
Short speeches were made. Then the house opened and a meal was served in the unexpectedly ample back yard. Almost everybody journeyed through the narrow, high, ramped rooms to the circular staircase and the commodious rooftop patio.
Shauna Metcalf and Jason Mittman
I spoke at some length with Mike Hall about fencing and camping; with Shauna Metcalf about the triumph of Apple products; with Jason Mittman about the young leaders of the ADL, with Steve Adler about the secure future of the ADL; with Diane Land about the miraculous diversity and openness of the younger generation; with Jason’s mother about her life in Chicago, Harlingen and here.
Also touched based with Andy Brown, Jennifer Kim, Alex Winkelman, Eugene Sepulveda, Ben Kogut (now headed to the Acton School), Doug Ulman (what a mensch!) and numerous new friends.
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Report: Club Red party for Red Cross at the Gibson Bar
The term “young leaders” is more elegant than “young professionals.” The Red Cross of Central Texas, a venerable charity despite recent fines for sloppy blood screening on the national level, now supports a young leaders group. Thursday, Club Red — sparky name — held its first-ever happy hour at the Gibson Bar on South Lamar Boulevard.
Terri Broussard and Andrea Stout
The cool, dark Joel Mozersky-designed hang-out is just right for such informal get-togethers. Parking may at first seem tricky, but perfectly legal off-street spots abound on that side of Lamar. The bar itself is grown-up without being the least bit stuffy. Very New Austin.
Lauren Galindo and Armando Breceda
The assembly glowed. Although varied, it took the form of smartly dressed folks, mostly under 40, friendly and informative about their cause. A quiet charity raffle — or maybe a door prize — seemed to be in the works. Still, no boring speeches or hard sells.
Lori Hodge and Robbi Millest
These are young leaders to watch. In more private conversations, Lori Hodge talked with me at length about pets and zoos (she pulled out a smart-phone image of her petting a cheetah at the San Diego Zoo), while civic publicist Dave Shaw traded views about a new Texas Cultural Trust project to coordinate arts efforts in small cities and towns.
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Austintatious Deals Launch at Dragon Gate by Phoenix
Each party comes with its singular social gifts. First, who knew about Dragon Gate by Phoenix, a sweet Asian spot tucked into Davenport Village on Loop 360?
Tuesday Williams, Jess Decelle and Jon Ray
This particular party introduced Austintatious Deals, a digital coupon site that appears to be like Groupon, but specific to our land. Business co-owner Susana Jimenez Garza explained that notices of deals will go out over social media of various stripes.
Susana Garza and Ize Drouin
Most surprising, however, was how the main room was filled with socializers usually associated with hip downtown events. Models, investors, designers, musicians, marketers — you get the creative type. So refreshing to see them in a suburban setting, mixing easily with the those not thus socially inclined.
Oscar Davila and Steely Dipuccio
OK. Pause. Time to hit the Apple store for a One to One genius session. My iPhone notebook function ate all my IDs. (Could it be full?) Maybe one of the party organizers can help with this bunch of images.
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Young Women’s Alliance Designers + Models Meet and Greet at Quattro Gatti
I’ll be honest: I attended for the models. As a columnist who depends on party pictures to adorn the Thursday edition of this column, I sometimes need subjects who are made to pose. I was not disappointed Tuesday at Quattro Gatti Ristorante on Congress Avenue.
Lindsey White and Kodi Dittmann
I actually spent much more time with the designers, cooks and their companions at this Young Women’s Alliance event. Friday, this group reassembles for its Fashion Evolution show at the Driskill Hotel. This preview party proved enormously helpful for the media, who often lose the news in the crush at big style events.
Linda Asaf and Connie Bakonyi
I spoke with a man from Salerno, Italy who appeared to be the pater familias for Quattro Gatti family. He said he had cooked for the pope and the United Nations. Might make a zingy column profile some day.
Brian J. Miller and Rachelle Briton
Chatted with Austin designers Linda Asaf and Rachelle Briton, who were delightful. Also took a “party pitch” from Briton’s fiance, Brian J. Miller, who is entering the field of public relations. What’s a party pitch? It’s like an elevator pitch — short, to the point, but playful, fun, since you are both at a social event.
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Austin Monthly Bachelor Issue Party at Gables Park Plaza
It’s a towering group. Six of the nine bachelors on Austin Monthly’s latest Most Eligible Men list are significantly taller than me (6 feet, 1 inch). I learned this socializing inside a model apartment at the Gables Park Plaza complex. The occasion was a pre-party before the magazine’s issue launch bash on Tuesday.
Clayton Christopher and Cindy Young
While women crushed into the lobby of the swank building on Sandra Muraida Way, the media were given a preview of the single men, most of whom had already bonded over a happy hour hosted by Austin City Living’s Fred Meyers (a listee) earlier in the week. Other stags included firefighter John Marney, business founder Clayton Christopher, personal trainer Edwardo Williams, Föda Studio founder and owner Jett Butler, festival coordinator and eatery manager Brendan Hannah, internet security company president Joe Ross, company founder Clay Colwell, Adlucent CEO Jon Armstrong and software consultant Keith Otero.
Jett Butler and, please help me ID here, I experienced an iPhone notebook crash
Some of the bachelors proved quite thoughtful on the subject of modern socializing. “I really believe we are moving closer to an age where social and professional networking regularly intertwine,” says Colwell of Blue Wheel Design and Vuse Media, his latest startup. “Identifying the right people to work with is critical, but I’m also concerned with pursuing meaningful work that is fun. From a social standpoint, I simply enjoy meeting new people, and certainly welcome the opportunity to meet some nice girls along the way.”
Fred Meyers and Edwardo Williams
Will Most Eligible status change the lives of our assembled men? “I have no idea,” says Meyers, who, at age 55, calls himself the “elder statesman” of the group. “For me, this whole thing came from left field and I decided I might as well have fun with it. Who knows I may even get a stalker or two.”
Christopher, formerly of Sweet Leaf Tea, now with Deep Eddy Sweet Tea Vodka, joked: “I’m changing my cell phone number right now.”
UPDATE: In an earlier version of this post, Jett Butler’s name was misspelled. Also, his Föda Studio was added later.
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House of Songs Scandinavian Summer Showcase at Momo’s
On a microscopic level, the world comes to Austin thanks to various musical campaigns from Dart Music International, KUT, South by Southwest and the House of Songs. Tuesday, the last of these presented its Scandinavian Summer Showcase at Momo’s with Danish artists Strawberry Blonde and Anna Rosenkilde.
Erin Ivey and Brian H. Conway
Music industry insiders populated the early hours of the line-up, which included Austin artists such as Erin Ivey, Troy Campbell and David Garza. House of Songs pairs locals with visitors to write new material, but also to perform in Austin venues. (I caught a wild Irish-tinged House of Songs party during SXSW at the Gingerman.)
Aimee Bobruk and Nathan Felix
Gracious Nathan Felix invited me to this particular showcase, blessed by singer/songwriter Rosenkilde’s shadowy, ethereal voice and Ivey’s slow, sweet allurements.
Anja Følleslev and Betina Følleslev
My unanswered question: Will KUT’s World Music Night move to the Cactus Cafe from Momo’s now that the radio station has taken over management there?
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Austin City Limits picture book evokes city’s other shrines
Paging through “Austin City Limits: 35 Years in Photographs,” Scott Newton’s devotional record of the PBS show, transported me to the concerts.
The new book also made me think: I’ve never actually attended an ACL taping. I’ve enjoyed musical acts on the ACL stage on the University of Texas campus. But never a taping.
Maybe I’ll resolve that failing at show’s striking new studio in the W Hotel & Residences. (Intimate despite the room’s size.) It’s a short walk from the newsroom, after all.
The book also reminded me of the Central Texas shrines and traditional events I’ve never experienced.
B. Buda Wiener Dog Races
C. Cathedral of Junk
D. House Park Stadium (Aztex); Cedar Park Center (Texas Stars)
E. Oktoberfest in New Braunfels
F. Austin Powwow and American Indian Heritage Festival
G. Kerrville Folk Festival
H. Luling Watermelon Thump
I. Texas Music Museum
J. National Museum of the Pacific War (Fredericksburg)
L. Palm House Museum (Round Rock)
M. Republic of Texas Museum
N. Texas Military Forces Museum
O. Austin Steam Train (or MetroRail for that matter)
P. Playland Skate Center
Q. Wonder World (San Marcos)
S. Fantastic Fest
T. Reggae Fest
U. Southside Market (Elgin)
V. The Backyard (new edition)
W. Segway Nation tour
X. Lake Austin Spa
Y. Fall Creek Vineyards
Z. Lorenzo de Zavala State Archives and Library
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Social pilgrims in our midst: Sean Massey & Joshua B. Ludzki do Austin
Last week, Sean Massey and Joshua B. Ludzki, two friends from Upstate New York, visited Austin. Since I was absent during their first days here, I asked Christopher Carbone, associate editor of L Style G Style, to introduce them to Austin social life.
The result was a full week of activity during what is usually considered a dead time of year. The traveling companions — Ludzki, a radio personality and community leader, and Massey, a university professor, city council member and business owner in Binghamton, N.Y. — shared some social observations harvested at the Oasis, Hike & Bike Trail at Lady Bird Lake, Hotel San Jose, Alamo Drafthouse, Max’s Wine Dive, Vespaio, Azul Tequila, M Two, 24 Diner, Oilcan Harry’s, Halcyon, Taco Shack, Guero’s, Rusty Spurs, Rain, Madame Mam’s, Elysium and Barbarella.
JOSHUA: What struck me about Austin in the dead of summer was how walkable it still is. We’ve gone to the hike and bike trail almost every day since we’ve gotten here. It’s been packed with people. And friendly people. People that hot and sticky and tired and well-exercised shouldn’t be that friendly. It occurred to me that Sean and I actually took up quite a bit of room strolling along on the trail; Being from the Northeast, I kept expecting some bitter biker to swing his head around and shoot us a dirty look, but people seemed to generally just get along—the bikers swerving around the runners, the runners weaving through the walkers, and so forth. And with all the shade, it’s actually been a pretty comfortable series of walks.”
SEAN: “I often use Austin as an exemplar for creative class cities. Binghamton has many of the potential strengths that Austin does (high tech industry, large creative class, growing arts scene, a university, and is located at the convergence of two rivers amid lush green hills). And yet, Binghamton still hasn’t realized its full potential.”
JOSHUA: “One of the first things I noticed … was the degree to which local businesses really seem to tend to the aesthetics. And I’m not talking about high-end restaurants and cute little independent coffeeshops. I’m talking about lots of businesses you wouldn’t expect—the liquor shop on the corner or the laundry mat down the block.The graphic design geek in me really appreciated the amount of time spent giving even the less glamorous buildings a look. It’s definitely a distinguishing factor from everywhere I’ve lived in the northeast, and helps you appreciate independent business even more.”
SEAN: “Our new gang of friends made us feel completely welcome and an immediate part of their scene. Conversations were easy and varied. The men were all attractive, smart and successful.”
JOSHUA: “The people here have been incredibly warm. Almost everyone I met and chatted with asked me how long I’d be in town and said we should grab a drink later in the week. Not long after hooking up with a new group of people, we were invited to brunch at Max’s Wine Dive. What I thought would be a small group of 5 or 6 turned into a party of 22, many of whom were strangers to each other. … And, of course, I had 10 new Facebook friends by the end of the meal; everybody pulled out their smartphones to make sure we were digitally linked forevermore. I shouldn’t underplay the degree to which that’s helped us stay linked to our new Austin friends.”
JOSHUA: “I suppose what I’ve loved most about my time here is discovering all the unique little twists that Austin residents apply to things I already know and love; the urban brunch I’ve experience in New York and San Francisco had an endless fried chicken and waffle option on the menu here in Austin. A night out at the Alamo Drafthouse was like some mad combination of dinner theater and the cinema. And there’s art absolutely everywhere—from the smallest breakfast diner to the nicest restaurant.”
SEAN: “One of our observations was that in many other cities a group of this sort would be much more hesitant to allow two outsiders to break in without some amount of vetting first. Perhaps it was Michael’s or Christopher’s referral, or perhaps it was just Austin charm. Brunch ended with a promise to meet up again later in the day.”
JOSHUA: One of the things that marked our visit was how many social connectors we met. More than half the people we were introduced to were described by their friends as “knowing everybody in town”. I don’t think it had to do with the group we stumbled into, or the generosity of the people describing their friends, so much as the fact that Austinites in general seem so willing to make social connections.”
JOSHUA: For my birthday, we decided to eat at Vespaio on South Congress. The atmosphere was fantastic; hip, understated, comfortable. And everything on the menu appealed. But the thing that immediately drew me in was perhaps the very simplest thing offered. In my experience, every quality restaurant offers one fairly vanilla option for non-foodies. Well I have a long and enduring love affair with very simply prepared pasta—so the pasta with pesto seemed like ideal birthday comfort food. I nibbled at my dinnermates tuna tatare and crab bisque. But I devoured my meal—which, simple as it was, turned out to be delicious.”
SEAN: “Rain has all the basics, a bar in the front as you walk in with TVs and a big video screen, another bar in the middle of the space with a dance floor, and then a spacious partially covered patio (very busy, even on a Sunday) with plenty of seating and another small bar.”
JOSHUA: Being new to town, we were perfectly willing to introduce ourselves to just about anybody. A youngish and fun-looking free spirit standing next to be was holding a tote back from San Francisco’s well-loved record store Amoeba Music. A bit tipsy, I exclaimed that I loved Amoeba music—that I’d lived in San Francisco 10 years ago, missed it incredibly, and spent most of my time there with electronica scenesters who were constantly shopping for vinyl. A grin spread across her face, she unloaded her belongings from the tote, and she absolutely insisted that I take it home with me. I will never forget the birthday present I received from that kind stranger”
SEAN: “We got to the neighborhood a bit early and had the good fortune to walk by Guero’s Oak Garden and hear the band Johnny Gimble and Texas Swing. We both remarked on how easy it was to just walk up to music in Austin. We enjoyed a frozen margarita and the band’s fun mix of jazz and country.”
JOSHUA: “I was somewhat sensitive to the fact that I was visiting Austin and might be getting a rosy impression of the city, so I paid close attention to any negative comments I heard as well. And there were truly only two. One new friend who accompanied us to Oasis whined a bit that the city was too hot—duh. And another commented that the public transportation system isn’t what it should be. I did end up riding the bus once and found it to be a positive experience; well air-conditioned, thank God, and with a very friendly driver.”
SEAN: “Tuesday night was “Tuezgayz” at Barbarella. This Red River bar was a big change from West Fourth Street with its dive-bar-hipster-meets-video-dance-club atmosphere. I’m pretty sure most of the kids (including Joshua, who I’m ironically referring to here as a “kid” because his birthday is on Friday) had no idea who Barbarella actually was — even with this big poster on the wall.”
JOSHUA: Being a big tech geek, I also took a moment to check out the computers and smart phones in the room. If that experience was anything to judge by, Austin in definitely an Apple city. I literally couldn’t see one person in the room that WASN’T on an IPhone. It was like part of the uniform.”
SEAN: “Attended the Austin Gay & Lesbian Film Festival’s Bloom fundraiser (at Action Figure Studios). … Performance artists danced in one room, and people wandered through the collection of paintings, photographs and sculptures donated for the silent auction in the other. Those attending were quite diverse in age and scene: Hipsters, middle-aged parents, circuit boys, artists, etc. all there to support the organization and have fun.”
JOSHUA: “The bottom line for me is that just about any major city you visit in the United States will have great restaurants, great music, great clubs, great art… but there’s definitely something pretty great—and pretty unique—about the people in Austin.”
SEAN: “We ended the trip a bit like we started, a dancing marathon at Rain with our new best friends. Our epic adventure came to a close with a dramatic send off rendition of a dance remix of the ‘Glee version’ of Journey’s ‘Don’t Stop Believin’.’ It was fabulous!”
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2010 Out & About 500 Style Update
To most readers, the Out & About 500 — formerly the Fortunate 500 — comes but once a year.
For example, the 2010 Out & About Style list has been updated to include external links to the nonprofits and profits affiliated with the socializers.
Also, additional reader nominations for 2011 have been appended. (Several readers endorsed hair stylist Ricky Hodge, already on the 2010 list, so a candidate for 2011. Good to have the extra bump, though, from Hodge fans. Photo by Marques Harper.)
One more thing: I’d happily update Kappie Bliss’ photograph if someone wants to donate one not taken with my point and shoot.
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A Texan in Minnesota, Part 3
Stray notes from a summer road trip …
Eye pox (billboards, junk) pock Interstate 35 straight through Texas, but particularly around Waco and Fort Worth. The roadside ugly in Central Texas is somewhat softened by the required tree plantings.
The ugly picks up again with a vengeance in Oklahoma City, while Kansas City is another story, where the industrial past is both a blessing and a curse.
Rural Kansas, Iowa and Minnesota are relatively eye-pox free, especially the gorgeous, rippling Flint Hills in Kansas.
We lucked into the right location for our Kansas City stops up and back: Southwest Boulevard. This former industrial strip is now a nightlife magnet. We ate at Ponak’s and Lulu’s, both creative, memorable.
Des Moines made the right choice by routing Interstate 35 away from downtown. Decreases traffic and saves the urban core.
Perhaps because the state offers comparatively fewer natural attractions, Iowa has invested heavily in themed rest areas. Stop here. It’s worth it.
Approaching St. Peter, Minn. in the winter from the north, I was unaware how much it is an extension of Mankato, home of Minnesota State University.
As in much of the upper Midwest, the farms in Minnesota tend to be tidy, carefully maintained. Even the mobile homes look trim.
Corn. Soybeans. Corn. Soybeans. Corn. Soybeans. Wonder what the federal government is subsidizing these days?
Actually, we bit into juicy sweet corn almost every night in the cabin. Quite a high summer treat.
Conversation about 30 miles outside Duluth, Minn.: “So you’ve come a long way from Texas.” “1,500 or so miles.” “Must be cooler here.” “About 30 degrees.” “Where you heading?” “Lutsen.” “You’re almost there. Have a great time.” “Thanks.”
It wasn’t till later that I realized there were almost no other Texas license plates on the northern shore of Lake Superior. Our secret place.
Duluth is a battle zone of highway construction. Might revisit this city when all that’s done.
As in all rural places, numbered roads or addresses mean little. We found our cabin partly by accident, but also by deciphering the hand-drawn directions of locals.
The rocky North Shore looks a lot like Maine, if Lake Superior is viewed as a sea. Lots of state parks and “wayside rests.” Waterfalls and rapids tumble down from the Sawtooth Mountains, pooling the color of root beer (from the iron ore).
Where the snow covers the ground for eight months, the summer accelerates with green life. Flowers near our hidden cabin: Daisies, lupines, dark-eyed Susans, Queen Anne’s lace, wild raspberries, and various unidentified yellow blossoms.
Trees: Mainly birch, but also spruce, hickory, maple and a few remaining white pines. Mammals: Moose, fox, wolf (or coyote), chipmunks, fresh evidence of beavers. Crowning wildlife moment: Two moose calves tarrying on the road near Cascade Lake.
Birds: Bald eagles, Canada jays, sapsuckers, goldfinch, blackbirds, ravens, crows, field sparrows, ruffed grouse.
The lakes in the Border Waters region are unfailingly picturesque. We swam, canoed, kayaked. Swimming was complicated by lake bottoms either of sharp rock or icky goo.
If only the pace of these Reading Weeks could be extended throughout the year, especially in regard to numbers of book pages turned.
Rob and Paul ruled the kitchen. Joe enjoyed short reigns, as did I. Kip, Doug and Lawrence mostly helped. And, of course, led the endless cleaning.
Despite my previous post, I want to emphasize that 99 percent of the time, we seven got along swimmingly. It was a perfectly pitched vacation for me. Except for the extremely long stints in the rented SUV. It might make more sense in the future to start out at a location closer to the terminus.
The dogs probably won’t join us on the next cabin iteration. They get in the way of our companions, indoors and out. Still, they were dolls in the car and at motel rooms.
We stopped by the Minnesota Zoo on the way home. Not broad, but rather deep collections built around trails. We explored Minnesota (see turkeys), Northern, Russia’s Grizzly Coast and Tropical. Enormous enclosures. As good or better than any Texas zoo. Amur leopards and tigers. Enough said.
Past Summer Reading Weeks: Durango, Col., West Glacier, Mont., Burgundy, France, Upstate New York, Northern California (actually multiple trips in Octobers).
Suggested Summer Reading Weeks: Montana (Rob); Maine (Joe); Savannah and Charleston (Lawrence); Alaska (Michael); Hawaii (Kip). Of course, with flight benefits, Paul and Doug could choose anywhere.
Photos by Joe Starr.
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A Texan in Minnesota, Part 2
Dusk virtually kisses dawn during the short nights in northern latitudes.
On vacation, this diurnal reality affects late revelers and early risers, especially if quartered together in a forest cabin, as we recently were on the north shore of Lake Superior.
Personally straddling those social worlds, I found myself tiptoeing around the tensions among our party of seven old friends, plus two large dogs.
Vacations like this one tend to intensify social pleasures and problems. On road trips, families of all descriptions must negotiate new spaces, shared amenities and altered expectations about planned activities, personal intrusions and domestic duties.
Along on this trip to Lutsen, Minn. — arriving in two large vehicles — were my husband, book editor Kip Keller, Griffin School teacher Lawrence Morgan, Houston Community College teacher Joe Starr, airline steward Doug Sparke, California tech guru Paul Talley and Gustavus Adolphus College professor Robert Kendrick.
Complicating matters were our blond and chocolate Labs, Nick and Nora, who behaved beautifully in the rented SUV and the pet-friendly motels along the way, but lapsed on rules about begging and blocking indoors, foraging and flinging themselves about outdoors.
Yet the specific points of contention evolved around the loft-arranged cabin, landed through Austin’s HomeAway vacation rental service. A general absence of doors made the card players the kings at night; while the inveterate taskmasters ruled the mornings.
And those two tribes collided.
At approximately 5 a.m., the morning group rustled into the kitchen, filling the French press coffee makers, reading The Economist instead of local newspapers, and heading out for cool strolls along woodsy tracks smeared with lupines, daisies, dark-eyed Susans, Queen Anne’s lace and wild raspberries. They (we) startled ruffed grouse, Canada jays, sapsuckers, goldfinches and blackbirds.
At 7 a.m., the three of us — remember I joined both groups — headed to the Moondance Coffee House along scenic Minnesota Highway 61, just above Lake Superior. There, we spent one languid hour managing social media, answering e-mails and checking to make sure Texas didn’t slip into the oily Gulf of Mexico.
By the time we returned, the late party was beginning to stir. Or not. Sometimes a twitchy “quiet time” extended into the afternoon. Preparing brunch — never breakfast — presented special challenges. Somehow in the end, we all enjoyed the egg casseroles, pancakes, French toast and breakfast tacos at some point or another.
Early afternoon, we set off on adventures: Hiking Cascade River State Park, wading in frigid Lake Superior, swimming in Caribou Lake and Clara Lake, canoeing and kayaking on Holly Lake, heading up Eagle Mountain (the highest point in Minnesota) or down the slopes of the Lutsen Mountains aboard the Alpine Slide attraction (oh no, not me).
Before dinner got underway: A long reading siesta. On our summer and winter reading weeks, my friends don’t take up the same books by design, but three chose the delightful novel “The Siege of Krishnapur” by J. G. Farrell.
Overlapped for me were Katharine Graham’s “Personal History” (complex woman, tale well told); Edmund Wilson’s “To the Finland Station” (history of Marxism, reads like a thriller); Alistair Horne’s “A Savage War of Peace: Algeria 1954-1962” (will we ever learn?); Dashiell Hammet’s “Crime Stories and Other Writings” (blunt words, punchy stories), Donald C. Farber and Robert Viagas’ “The Amazing Story of The Fantasticks” (tons of Austin lore); Jacques Gernet’s “A History of the Chinese Civilization” (overwhelming for a Westerner): and Jacques Barzun’s “From Dawn to Decadence: 500 Years of Western Cultural Life” (astounding erudition).
Don’t be fooled into thinking I finished these works. (Heavens!) My goal on vacation is to consume 100 pages in each volume, thereby assuring I’ll complete them upon return to Austin.
Reading was often interrupted by a little social dance: Should we market in one of the coastal towns? Who would cook what? Could we agree on a time to eat?
Five of the gathered seven cabin-mates are pretty accomplished cooks with definite ideas about how to grill, steam, bake, fry or sear. Minor sparks flew. Some pressure was relieved by a birthday dinner out at the ultra-green Angry Trout in Grand Marais.
After dinner, a few votes would be cast for movies, but more often than not, Hand and Foot, a Canasta-based card game, won out. This fiendish distraction was introduced to the group in a Durango, Colo. cabin last summer and brooks no interruption. Still, not everyone wanted to play, at least not until 4 a.m., just before dawn.
Eventually, the hardiest revelers, who happened to double as the thrill-seekers during daytime adventures, rubbed up against the earliest risers, who preferred gentle walks and drives through nature that brought us in contact with moose, fox, chipmunks, beavers (or their dams) and a lanky canid that I identified as an adolescent wolf, but a companion assured me was just another coyote.
Eruptions were inevitable.
“Why don’t you expand your known universe?”
“Why don’t you read something more substantial?”
“Well, why don’t you use an indoor voice in the morning?”
It all worked out. We remain old friends, after all. You don’t let minor frictions affect old friendships any more than family relations. At least, not without real cause.
Now about that wolf …
Photos by Joe Starr
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A Texan in Minnesota, Part 1
Austinites share with Minnesotans an informal and admirably civic sensibility.
Yet, unlike Texans in general, our friends to the north can be socially reserved, mild-mannered — a condition Garrison Keillor diagnoses as “Minnesota nice” during “News from Lake Wobegon” reports on “A Prairie Home Companion.”
Almost every interaction shared with locals during our recent vacation along the north shore of Lake Superior ended with eyes averted, conversational threads dropped.
In Lutsen, Tofte or Grand Marais, the outfitter, the barista, the shop owner, even the real estate agent retreated into “Wobegonics,” using “no confrontational verbs or statements of strong personal preference, you know” (“Prairie Home Companion,” April 19, 1997).
If we demonstrated the merest knowledge of local mores — strapping a kayak properly across the top of a Suburban, or making sure we didn’t steer the grocery cart into the parking lot, where it could roll into the street, you know — some of that icy northern reserve melted.
(This handy trick will work anywhere in the world, by the way. Speak six words of modern Greek in Greece and you’ll be treated with respect and even good cheer by the crustiest island Nereus.)
City Minnesotans are more gregarious than those living among the birch-blanketed mountains aside the milk-blue Great Lakes.
An afternoon at the Minnesota Zoo in suburban Apple Valley, for instance, put us in contact with dozens of eager volunteers, pointing out the subtleties of charismatic mammals on four broadly-spaced, tightly themed trails (Northern, Minnesota, Tropical and Russia’s Grizzly Coast). With sunny highs reaching 80 degrees or so, these fit urbanites abandoned caution, jostling sweetly with strangers, cooling off at the zoo’s convenient misters.
During an earlier winter visit to Minneapolis, I found that persistent friendliness helps. Lounging at a bar on Hennepin Avenue, I chatted with everyone present — everyone! — including owner and bartender. It helps when the locals are even shyer than you are. One’s inner Texan emerges.
Why two trips to the Land of 10,000 Lakes in one year? Our dear friend — and former Austinite — Robert Kendrick now teaches English at Gustavus Adolphus College in St. Peter, about an hour southwest of the Twin Cities.
A typical Texan, he has made many fast friends there. Yet these faculty members come from all over the country, having graduated from noisy places like University of Arizona, University of Southern California and Columbia University. By all reports, the Gustavus students, on the other hand, remain courteous, quiet and, for the most part, well-behaved.
Perhaps the school’s athletic teams should change their names from the “Golden Gusties” to the “Minnesota Nice.”
Photos by Joe Starr
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A peek inside Colt McCoy’s wedding to Rachel Glandorf
Photo by Kate Mefford
After a lot of speculation about when and where the wedding would happen, University of Texas quarterback Colt McCoy and Rachel Glandorf were married Saturday. According to Caplan Miller Events, which designed and produced the wedding, the ceremony at Westover Hills Church of Christ was followed by a reception at the TDS Exotic Game Ranch for about 550 guests, including Gov. Rick Perry, Major Applewhite and Roger Staubach. Many UT coaches and teammates were also in attendance, and Jordan Shipley served as best man. McCoy met Baylor grad Glandorf, 23, two years ago, and they got engaged a week after January’s national championship loss to Alabama. After their Bahamas honeymoon, they’ll move to Cleveland in time for McCoy to start training camp with the Cleveland Browns.
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The Age of Tweets
Summer 2003, I posted my first blog entry.
It was during our road trip to salute the 200th anniversary of Lewis and Clark’s expedition. On vacation, we followed the explorers’ trail from St. Louis to the Oregon coast, then came back along the Oregon Trail, posting at every turn. It turned into the three-week North American road trip of a lifetime for us.
Back then, it was all hard-coding and endless uploading of images. Most motels and outdoor spots in Montana and elsewhere offered dial-up at best. Poor phone service at worst.
(Previous summer retreats for this small group in cool, rural locations: Upstate New York, Northern California, Glacier National Park, Burgundy, France and Durango, Colo.)
This will be the first time in years I have not blogged a vacation in this space. The Superior National Forest is just too remote. And the effort is just not worth it.
So I’ll tweet and update our activities on my Facebook page. If you follow Out & About primarily in this space, just scroll down to the Twitter box for a few weeks.
If not, follow me at @outandabout on Twitter or head to the new Out & About fan page on Facebook. I promise to maintain the storyline. And I’ll be back July 22.
Photo: Our “cabin” rented through Austin’s HomeAway.
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Traces of Socializing Before Vacation
This last week before vacation, it got personal. Meaning, I devoted my time to intimate social connections.
Joanna Linden and Oliver Everette
I don’t know Joanna Linden that well. We’ve spent time together. It’s always been more than pleasant. I trust her. She’s advised me about the donor community with discretion.
So I was delighted to attend her birthday party Sunday at the home of Dr. John Hogg and David Garza, breakout social stars this season. It was a splendid affair in pink. No big speeches. Just sweet fun.
Justin Shook and Kim Potts
And loads of Out & About 500 honorees. Monday, we joined Suzie and Randy Harriman at Sushi Zushi for Suzie’s 60th birthday. Since we had not seen this pair for many weeks, it turned into a furious hurricane of food, drink and conversation.
I so look forward to their permanent relocation to Austin, though I’m sad for them they are giving up their gorgeous second home in San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato.
Courtney Sanchez and Kendall Sanchez
Tuesday, I tried to attend two social gatherings, but the flash flood warnings kept me at bay. Wednesday, we met famous social all-stars Carla and Jack McDonald at El Arbol. This Argentinian restaurant is all the rage, and we can see why. I had an incredibly tender brined half chicken, on the advice of a reader. Wasn’t sorry.
It’s hard to imagine a smarter, more engaged or less pretentious couple than the McDonalds. We are honored to know them. We could have spent the whole night discussing limitless issues under a “triple cone of silence.”
Cynthia Ellis and Jeanine Cuellar
Thursday, I started the evening meeting Kevin Smothers and Laura Villagran for a preview of their planned online social planner. If all goes well, they should be helping the event-planning community cut the Gordian knot of Austin’s social calendar.
Then it was L Style G Style’s Oliver Everette at Parkside, a perfect perch for the early evening on Sixth Street. Everette has become a dear friend and we caught up on mostly personal connections, with sprinklings of professional sharing.
Vanessa Martin and Josh Goler
To round out that early evening, I headed to Stubb’s for the Not Just Another Cancer Event 2.0 for Team Survivor. Immediately I ran into column profile subject Sarah Lisle and her lively husband Matt.
I had such fun catching up with numerous new and old friends, including Scot Tulk and David Smith, who shared so much insight into upcoming events, including the Mamma Jamma Ride. I look forward to getting to know them better.
Kathy and Ron Farshler
At last, Friday. Long day at work — at home and in the newsroom — trying to finish off all my vacation columns. Then the promised release of a coveted reservation at Uchiko, the follow-up to Tyson Cole’s triumphant Uchi. The place was packed with foodies.
We had a glorious meal — check the tweets below for the record — and we ran into numerous well-connected Austinites. What an exquisite way to round out a week of savoring Austin at its best.
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Why She Is Here: Carla Jackson
On the first Constitution Debate Day, 150 Austin Community College students showed up. The next year, it was 330. Then 550.
This year’s debate, slated for Sept. 22, is expected to draw 700. Guided by experts, students split into groups of 15 to discuss issues and come to a resolution.
“They come for the extra credit and food,” says Carla L. Jackson, the associate director of ACC’s School of Public Policy and Politics. “But they leave with a deeper knowledge of the constitution and their beliefs. They really think deeply.”
The center, founded in 2007 by political campaign strategist Peck Young, is one of the only — if not the only — such program at an American community college.
Much of the civic sensibility for this Queens, N.Y. native can be traced to her family upbringing. Her mother, Lois, came to New York from Lancaster, S.C., and taught special education. Jackson says: “She spent 40 years getting people to believe in themselves.”
Her father Curtis, originally from New Jersey, managed a social service agency. Her fraternal twin, Carí Jackson Lewis, helped Jackson take control of her life. “When she tells me to do something, I do it. She’s always right.” Jackson says. “It’s very comforting to know there’s somebody you can tell anything to. And that person will at least give you the benefit of the doubt.”
Looking back on this family history, she says: “Of course I am what I am, a person who likes working with people. With a mom and dad like mine, who devoted their life to social service, I had no choice.”
She grew up an artistic child in the “lower-to-middle middle class” district of Laurelton, Queens. She could eat at a neighbor’s, walk home from the bus stop, play in back yards. Impulsive, she once tried to convert the family garage into horse stable with hay and running water.
Raised in open-minded Lutheran church, her real religion became: “Truly being good to your neighbor. There’s no higher honor than to take care of yourself and the person next to you.”
After PS 37 in Queens, she headed to Savannah, Ga. to stay with an aunt, Jackie Byers, a mathematician, during her restless teens. Byers helped dial back her academically-driven intensity and general unhappiness. “She also got me to love symbolic logic,” says Jackson, who graduated from Springfield Gardens High School in Queens.
Diagnosing her early problems in retrospect, she says: “I never believed in doing things until I knew why I needed to do it.” College consumed her all-curious personality She learned every skill in the theater, because, as a would-be producer, she might have to ask someone to do it. Or do it herself. “I like to understand how things work,” she says. “It gives you a greater respect for what people do and teaches you how to give them room to do it.”
While interning at HBO Documentaries in 1998, she met Kelvin Z. Phillips at a Manhattan party. She left early, but they exchanged numbers.
“I called him later and said: ‘You might as well leave the party, because you’re not going to meet anyone better.’” He agreed and left. Friendship turned into courtship. Phillips worked in graphics for financial firms at night, wrote screenplays by day. She moved to Philadelphia to work at the Wilma Theatre, but then Phillips asked her to move into his Brooklyn apartment. “I kept waiting for it to get uncomfortable since we hadn’t dated that long before I moved in,” Jackson says. “It never did.”
Phillips has two sons she is now helping to raise: Kelvin Jr., 19, a dreamer, “comic genius,” and a writer, attending ACC, but applying for the US. Air Force; and Justice, 13, a student at Fulmore Magnet School Program, a charismatic, generous spirit. Stage name: Freedom.
The family was living in Tarzana, Cal. while Phillips pursued his screenwriting dream when his primary employer, Dimensional Fund Advisors, moved him to Austin.
Once here, while Jackson tried to produce her own shows — she’d like to get back to that full-time — she helped out groups like Catalyst 8, Church of the Friendly Ghost, Lights, Camera, Help and LeapAustin.
At ACC, her aim is to “get students to understand that policy and politics affect your life, so why not learn how to affect it back,” she says. “If there’s something you wake up looking forward to, you have a responsibility to fight for it.”
She sums up her devotion to public service: “If you haven’t done something to make lives easier, entertained or enlightened, I don’t know why you are here.”
Those interests converge on arts and public policy. Jackson is sometimes mystified by the DYI Austin ways.
“You can raise 1,000 people to clean a park, but not $1,000,” she says. “What does it say about a city that you are the Live Music Capital of the World, but musicians can’t eat?” she says. “We can and have to fix that. Austin can do anything.”
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The Miracle in Orissa for Caroline Boudreaux
Unlike St. Paul, Caroline Boudreuax’s conversion came, not on a road, but in the dormitory of an Indian orphanage.
In May 2000, the backpacking Austinite landed in Mumbai, India. It was hot, 110 degrees.
“A horrible time to visit India,” says the former TV advertising representative, who had quit a lucrative job with the local Fox channel to travel the world.
When they discovered it would take $750 each to reach Orissa, Monheim-Poyner suggested: “Let’s just send the money to him.”
“No way,” Boudreaux, now 40, remembers saying. “You dragged me here and we are meeting this child.”
When they arrived at Manus’ village, the women received the “National Geographic welcome.” Men lined the streets; women took them among the mud huts. Drums played. Women ululated. A woman washed their feet and dried them with her dress.
Then there was Manus.
“There he was: this little boy,” Boudreaux says. “He took us into his mud hut, which was surprisingly cool. There were two rooms for six people, no bathroom or kitchen. We thought we had met the poorest people in the world. We were wrong.”
The Americans lingered in Orissa, doing volunteer work, making rope swings, reading English to the children, playing with them. On May 14, 2000 — Mother’s Day — Boudreaux called her mom back in the States, then attended dinner at the home of Christian Children’s Fund’s director.
The Americans were not prepared for what they found there.
“There were 110 bald, filthy, empty-looking orphan children,” she says. “They ate rice. We were given chicken.”
They sat through their children’s Hindu prayers. A girl, Sheebani, put her head on Boudreaux’s knee. “They are so desperate for affection, they push their bodies into you,” she says.
The girl fell asleep in her arms and urinated. Boudreaux went to put her to bed. “The place smelled like Hell,” she says of the dormitory without a trace of comforts. “As I set her down, I heard her bones hitting the wood of the bed. I thought ‘This just isn’t right.’ I had to do something.”
The dormitory shock continued to bother her. “I just couldn’t get right,” she says. She sought out an Internet cafe and wrote down the experience: “It was cathartic. And I was able to capture the moment while it was fresh in my mind.”
“This was my first introduction to real need,” Boudreaux says. It would lead to the creation of her Austin-based Miracle Foundation, which now operates four orphanages in India, two in Orissa and two in Jharkhand.
Some elements of Boudreaux’s upbringing foreshadowed this conversion from the business sphere to charity. She was raised a devout Catholic among six brothers and sisters in Lake Charles, La. Her mother was a social worker, her father a pharmacist, working the family store, Boudreaux’s New Drug Store.
She attended Catholic schools, then studied at Louisiana Tech University before transferring to Louisiana State University-Shreveport with a degree in psychology. Her aim: To become a therapist.
After applying to graduate school at the University of Texas, she moved to Austin in 1992. Then came the unexpected rejection letter. “I was devastated,” she says.
Other options awaited the cool brunette with crystal eyes. The self-described “quintessential Cajun girl” and “big hugger” radiates attentive calm, at the same time, seems coiled for action. That served her well during nine years as a sales representative, as she built long-term relationships and picked up professional polish, business skills and crucial contacts among CEOs and entrepreneurs.
In business, she learned: “The harder you work, the more money you make. I outworked them. I put in some hours there,” she says, but ultimately: “Money isn’t satisfying.”
She turned into a scrupulous saver, though, so she set off with Monheim-Poyner to visit Hawaii, South Africa, Egypt, Israel, India, Nepal, Thailand, Malaysia, Indonesia and Australia. After the convulsion of India, she separated from her companion to hike and meditate in Nepal.
Boudreaux couldn’t stop thinking about Sheebani and the other Orissa orphans: “I was going to do something if it was the last thing I ever did. If I didn’t help them, nobody would.”’
The Miracle Foundation, created as soon she returned to Austin, was first aimed at international adoptions. “I spent 2000-2003 working in that area before realizing it is sometimes corrupt and it is the children that don’t get adopted that need us most,” she says.
Out of money and patience after three years, she consulted with Alan Graham, founder of Mobile Loaves and Fishes.
“Graham said, ‘Who do you think we help?’ I said the homeless. He he said no, ‘Mobile Loaves and Fishes enables 9,000 people to give. Everybody wins. Your job is to be the bridge between the people who want to make a difference and the people who need a difference. Let the spiritually starving feed the nutritionally starving.”
Soon after that — in what some would call a miracle — Boudreaux discussed her plight in prayer group of Catholic women. One handed her a check for $10,000, on the condition she didn’t send it to India. It was for her to regroup. That helped her to reconfigure the foundation’s goals around orphanage mangement and to raised $75,000 at its first donor event.
To live in Austin without savings, she paid herself $35,000 a year. “It’s a far cry from the corporate world,” she laughed.
Besides the orphanages — one on the coast opened after the 2004 tsunami had turned independent — Miracle Foundation recently opened first children’s home: One house mother and 10 children.
The amazing thing to many potential donors: It costs only $100 a month to sponsor a child for a year. And one can still help by giving much less.
“And we have an ambassador program that enables people to come to India to see our work first hand,” Boudreaux says. “This is what I would love any Austinite to do with me.”
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Sarah Lisle: Healed and At Home
Six weeks after the incident, Sarah Lisle remembers nothing about the fashion runway. Or the collapse that left a full house gasping and sobbing. Or the attempts to revive her with a defibrillator. Or the ambulance racing to the University Medical Center at Brackenridge, or the transfer to the intensive care unit at Seton Medical Center Austin a few miles away.
She had suffered a cardiac arrest, mid-runway, in front of hundreds of onlookers. Now, for the first time, Lisle’s willing to talk about it publicly.
Early in the evening of May 22, the two-time cancer survivor wandered around the Bob Bullock Texas History Museum, showing off her hand-made art bra. One cup formed the shape of a book, created from cards of support after her second diagnosis.
“I had been taking chemo every week at a low dosage. But the side effects — fatigue, aches, pains, vulnerability to infection — are cumulative. That night, I didn’t feel any more fatigued than usual.”
Lisle, 31, can visualize being backstage, nervously practicing her walk. Nothing after that.
Here’s what your columnist recorded, first on live tweets, then in a blog and print column: “Early in the show, one of the models, still young, absent hair, stepped out to cheers. Not far down the runway, she turned, as if to exhibit her elaborate apparel. She kept turning. And turning. Then collapsed. The museum went silent. A dozen people surrounded the fallen model. Everyone else gaped in bewilderment.”
Lisle, left unnamed in press reports, was surrounded by medical professionals at this Breast Cancer Resource Center donor party. Her oncologist, Dr. Debra Patt, assisted, along with that cancer specialist’s husband, a cardiologist, Dr. Hanoch Patt. So, too, did her plastic surgeon, Dr. David Mosier, and her mother, a nurse practitioner visiting from Montana. Lisle’s husband, father and aunt — her mother’s twin, and like both, a breast cancer survivor — remained nearby, and the ambulance arrived quickly.
When she woke up at the second hospital, Lisle remained dazed. “I thought I had just passed out and fell down, but they kept asking me questions,” she says. “It wasn’t until I looked back on the Facebook comments that I realized I had been in ‘critical but stable condition.’”
So why did Lisle go into cardiac arrest? Nobody has determined for sure, but turns out the emergency personnel recorded ventricular fibrillation, an irregular heartbeat that can lead to various medical crises.
The Chicago native who grew up in the suburbs of Atlanta, Ga., had led a quiet, beauty-flecked life up to the point of her first diagnosis. She studied art education at the University of Georgia, and historic preservation during graduate school at the University of Oregon.
She made friends with her future husband, Matt Lisle, an instructional designer, in Athens, Ga. They had attended the same high school.
“We gravitated toward each other in a big place,” she says. “Being friends evolved into being a couple.” They married in 2006 and moved to Austin in 2007. She now works as an exhibit planner for the Texas Parks & Wildlife Department.
Lisle was first diagnosed with breast cancer in 2004 at age 25. The lump and lymph nodes removed. She endured chemotherapy, bilateral masectomy, reconstructive surgery and hormone blocking therapy.
In 2009, she discovered a lump on top of the breast reconstruction. “I could feel it sticking out. I thought it was part of the implant,” she says. “I was shocked. I thought it was behind me.”
The implant was removed; she underwent more chemo and radiation. Happily, she was already a member of Team Survivor, which provides exercise programs, and Pink Ribbon Cowgirls, a group of younger breast cancer survivors.
“I didn’t know if I needed a support group so far from my initial diagnosis, but I liked the women,” she says. “Then I was thankful I had a community when I was re-diagnosed.”
She had never attended one of the center’s art-bra galas, but an e-mail from Runi Limary invited her to whip one up and to act as a model. At the ball, a patron bid $160 for her book concept, which gratifies her. She might model again next year, if she recovers from serial nervousness.
“I feel back to normal,” she says “I am anxious about my heart. It’s just another thing I have to live with, but have no control over. I’m grateful for all the people — friends, doctors, family and strangers — that helped that evening and beyond.”
Meanwhile, the incident at the fashion show just amplifies her philosophical mindset. “Yes, your cancer could come back,” she says. “You could also drop dead at any moment. So live in the moment.”
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Summer Austin Colonies
Austinites were born to beat the heat. Shade, air conditioning, swimming holes, public pools and lakes form the first lines of defense. The Hill Country is marginally cooler than the city proper, at least at night, and the Gulf Coast beckons with constant breezes.
Since the earliest days of our history, Austinites with a little extra expendable income have set off for designated summer colonies. Here are a few of the most prominent, and who, according to our sources, chill there.
San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato: Hippies, poets, outcasts and others have found a safe haven in this Mexican mountain town. As early as the 1970s, purists felt that gringos had already ruined this quiet paradise, but one can still go all day in the right districts without hearing English. (Rich kids from Mexico City are another story.) Art, food and relaxation are among the chief thrills for Hal and Eden Box, Margaret Keys, Joe McClain, Suzieand Randy Harriman and more.
Marfa: As soon as the railroads pushed through the Davis Mountains, this town, along with Alpine, Fort Davis, Marathon and Terlingua, attracted herds of summer Texans. Later, cultural pioneers like Donald Judd and Tim Crowley transformed the existing, arid attractions with austere art, vivid food and gracious entertaining. (The mountains and the towns still look the same, though, unlike Santa Fe.) Find here Liz Lambert and Amy Cook, Eugene Sepulveda and Steven Tomlinson, Dick and Janie DeGuiren (honorary Austinites), Tobin Levy, and many others.
Aspen, Colo.: All the Rocky Mountain ski resorts double as pressure valves for boiling Texans. This particular colony embraces Rusty and Mary Tally, Dr. Nona Niland and David Braun, Laura and Jeff Sandefer, Joan and Jeffrey Lava, Rebecca and Bryan Hardeman, Johnna and Stephen Jones, Becky and Jerry Lindauer, Jeanne and Rusty Parker.
Nantucket & Martha’s Vineyard, Mass. These islands, along with the Hamptons, the Berkshires and Cape Cod — have long offered summer respite for Northeasterners. Now Austinites join them for great escapes from urban life. They include Carla and Jack McDonald, Tom and Lynn Meredith, Melanie and Ben Barnes.
Galveston: OK, so it’s still torrid during the summer on the Texas coast. No doubt about it. Yet the heat seems so much more tolerable while sipping an iced beverage on the Victorian porch of an Austin transplant or part-timer. Truly devastated by Hurricane Ike, the isle has not recovered, but instead is reinventing itself. Among the witnesses: Cliff Redd and Rick Johnson, Eva and Marvin Womack, Candace and Michael Partridge, Steve and Lynn Davis, Amelia Bullock and Bill Krumpack, Richard Hartgrove and Gary Cooper.
Photo: The New York Times
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