February’s false spring

Posted on February 18, 2013 by Patty

Despite the forecast, live like it’s spring.
– Lilly Pulitzer, American fashion designer

The first tulip of the season pops up during our February false spring.

Although the temperatures are going to drop this week and rain is expected on Tuesday, the past six days have been lovely. In February, we typically get a spell of warm weather in the upper 60s and sometimes even low 70s (in degrees), making you chafe in your tightly woven turtleneck sweater and want to change into cotton t-shirts. Our false spring coaxes our two massive magnolia trees in our backyard to blossom and drop their pink and white petals, which will become a gummy, rust-colored mess when the late winter rains drive our false spring away.Despite the beginning of my son’s baseball season and indeed a weekend of baseball practices, clinic, and meetings, we as a family spent a few hours Sunday afternoon pulling weeds mostly in our side yard. It reminded me how I used to have time to tend to my garden, pulling weeds on a regular basis, ridding plants of snails, pruning judiciously, and clipping spent flowers. When I moved into David’s house nearly 17 years ago, I became smitten with gardening. The previous owner, who was the first owner of the house, was an avid gardener who had planted bluebells for the spring and Mexican poppies and dahlias for the summer and early fall.

I took a lot of photos of my father in his garden while taking photography classes at my local junior college back home in 1982. His gardening uniform consisted of a white t-shirt, canvas trousers, and his trusty straw hat.

We sought to make the garden our own. We ripped out the poppies, dug up the bluebell bulbs, tore down his black widow-infested homemade sheds, and in the front yard pulled up the boxwood hedges, diseased pine tree, and juniper bushes. I grew to love dahlias and planted different varieties to the tune of 22 types, mostly in the side yard. I experienced a Zen sense of calmness and accomplishment after spending weekend hours in the yard. At the end of the day, I would stretch out and survey the neatly tended garden with great satisfaction. I imagined it was not unlike the admiration my father experienced when he surveyed his vegetable garden on summer evenings.

This plot of the garden will soon look like . . .

When we moved during the major house remodel, we put all the dahlia bulbs in planters and tubs and transported them to our rental. Once the house was completed, David and our good friend Ricci laid down a flagstone path and erected an iron fence and gate in the side yard. The tall column fountain, which David and I gave to each other as a first Christmas present after we got married, was installed, and we commenced planting the bulbs in the amended soil.I added pottery and potted plants, and other kinds of flowers. Three different bird baths and two bird feeders joined a winged angel and fairy statues and wire and clay suns with whimsical faces hung on the fence. One winter we planted a variety of short and tall-stemmed tulips, and calla lilies have sprung up in unexpected places. While the calla lilies are thriving, the tulip leaves are shouldering up from the soil during our false spring.

. . . this when the real spring arrives.

One of the things I especially enjoy at the height of spring and summer is clipping flowers and greenery and making massive arrangements and doing so without caring about how much time it’s taking. Even more so, I enjoy giving out the arrangements I make. The last few seasons the late spring rains have shortened the season and made the flowers not as prolific as they used to be, so I can’t make the two or three arrangements a week that I was accustomed to doing.

Contemplating spring with a sleeveless maxi. Throw on a light jacket with bracelet sleeves and wrap around your neck flowery and ethereal scarves, and spring should come in no time.

A few years ago, we donated a season’s worth of weekly bouquets, which averaged about 14 weeks from late May through early September, as a bidding item for our kids’ elementary school annual auction event. I would make the arrangement, sometimes two, deliver it to the winning bidder’s porch, and pick up the previous week’s vase. It is an easy, no-cost donation that earns money for the elementary school – and now our middle school. So as gardeners’ flowers start to bloom and school auctions are being planned and set with spring dates, consider donating a weekly bouquet. Help your community – even if you don’t have children in the local schools. As our February false spring comes to a close, survey your garden. Make sure it’s being nurtured and ready for optimal blooming. And then share the beauty of your garden.

Skip the jewelry with an outfit like this when you wear multiple sheer scarves adorned with watercolor flowers and beading and sequins. Dress like it’s spring!

A Valentine’s Day ode to The Way We Were

Posted on February 15, 2013 by Patty

Can it be that it was all so simple then?
Or has time rewritten every line?
If we had the chance to do it all again
Tell me, would we? Could we?
– Alan Bergman and Marilyn Bergman, lyricists, and Marvin Hamlisch, composer

Me at 11, 6th grade, Fall 1973, when the movie came out.

When I saw that our local movie theater, the Cerrito Theater (10070 San Pablo Avenue, El Cerrito, 510.273.9102) was going to show The Way We Were on Valentine’s Day, I knew where I was going to be eating dinner that night. But it took some time to convince David to go. He agreed to go, and it’s one of the most sentimental Valentine’s Day “gifts” he’s given to me. It’s hard to believe that the movie celebrates its 40th anniversary this year. I remember seeing it in the theater when I was 10, and subsequent times after that (although I will say that I forgot a lot of the details of the movie). While the movie is flawed (read the Wikipedia entry on it; it’s fascinating) and those flaws were more evident tonight, it brought me back to the 1970s, to a nostalgic period in my life.I had created this acronym to describe myself when I was growing up – RISS, which stands for romantic, idealistic, sentimental, and sensitive. So you can imagine how this movie played out to a girl with that kind of hard wiring. I had a big crush on Robert Redford back in the day. And while I never considered Barbra Streisand beautiful, I admire her tenacity, passion, comedic impulse, and her sensuality, especially in the way she twisted her lips and worked her long fingers around Hubbell’s neck and shoulders and those blond locks.

The type of outfit Katie would wear at the radio station.

I confess I had a little Katie Morosky in me in college. There is a scene in which Katie expects her story, which she crafted for three months, to be publicly praised in her creative writing class; instead, Hubbell’s story is read aloud. The next scene shows her dashing through the campus and stopping at a trashcan to tear up her story and throw it away. In one of my early creative writing classes at UC Davis, I modeled one of my stories after James Joyce’s Araby. The problem was that I stupidly mentioned it in class after a classmate asked me about technique. My professor, whom I admired greatly back then and still do to this day, said in his very formal tone of voice that it is fine to write like James Joyce but only if one is James Joyce. Everyone in the class laughed, and I was mortified. After class, I dashed across the quad to my dorm room, where I literally threw myself on my bed and cried. After my weeping, I sat up and told myself, well, you wish to be a writer, and if you want to write you have to put yourself out there. You have to accept the criticism, and learn and grow from it. It has never been easy, but it’s still true.

The perfect outfit to pass out leaflets in.

The second affinity I have with Katie is my sense of social justice and activism, which I confess was much grander and more passionate when I was younger, especially in high school, college, and in my twenties. I was very big on Greenpeace. In the same way Katie was handing out strike leaflets on the college campus, I was distributing Greenpeace cards that said “Club sandwiches, not seals” and “No veal this meal” in the dorm dining hall. The back bumper of my lemon of a Volkswagen Rabbit was covered up with various stickers about saving whales and other such sentiments.Lastly, the college scenes reminded me of my own crush on a fellow English Department student, whom I scared away with my intensity. I asked him out to lunch and relived the encounter when reading about it in my college journal this past holiday. I had to laugh at the remembrance. He ordered the Steinbeck Salad, which astonished and delighted me because Steinbeck was one of my favorite authors at the time. But the kicker? He told me he wanted to join the Peace Corps. Just like I wanted to do. I remember meeting my roommate after lunch for the scheduled debriefing. I was head-over-heels in love. Steinbeck, the Peace Corps. It was meant to be. Only in my head. And so I completely empathized with Katie’s college crush on Hubbell.

An outfit Katie would wear to a screening of a movie for which Hubbell wrote the screenplay.

One thing I appreciated in viewing the movie this time around was Streisand’s fashion sense through the decades. I thought I had more retro outfits, but not one that more closely matches the aesthetics of Katie Morosky. But I’ll give it a go, with an Enrado twist.

The kind of coat Katie would be wearing as she dashes across New York City streets. Tocca coat from Personal Pizazz (Berkeley, CA).

Watching the movie was a total indulgence for me. A walk down memory lane, making for a memorable Valentine’s Day evening. Next stop? The Mel-O-Dee Bar (240 El Cerrito Plaza, 510.526.2131) on karaoke night to sing Babs’ song!

Vintage brocade jacket reminiscent of the 1950.

1950s retro: structured jacket, wide-leg pants, and antique handbag.

Seattle’s Chihuly Garden and Glass

Posted on February 13, 2013 by Patty

I love to find the beauty in everyday objects.
– Dale Chihuly, American glass sculptor

A boat filled with glass globes against a black backdrop.

Last Saturday, when we were purchasing our tickets for the Space Needle, a package deal was also offered for the Space Needle and the Chihuly Garden & Glass (305 Harrison Street, Seattle, 206.753.4940). Without thinking, we went ahead and got tickets for both venues, which are next door to each other. When I asked our friend John who Chihuly was, he stopped in his tracks and said, in an incredulous tone of voice, “You’ve never heard of Chihuly?” Um, no, but I’m always up for learning about people I’ve never heard of. I was all ears.

An Education on Dale Chihuly
Dale Chihuly was born in Tacoma in 1941 and graduated in 1965 from the University of Washington with a degree in interior design. While at school, he had to take a weaving class as a requirement and decided to weave bits of glass into a tapestry, which spawned his interest in glass and led him to build a studio in south Seattle. One night he melted glass between bricks in an oven and blew it into a bubble, and from that moment on, Chihuly said he wanted to be a glass blower.

Suspended sea sculpture.

He went on to the University of Wisconsin, enrolling in the country’s first glass program, and afterwards went to the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD). In 1968, on a Fulbright Scholarship, he worked in a glass factory in Venice and then returned to found a glass program at RISD. “I like to work on a team and that’s how they work in Venice,” he said in an interview, which I found on YouTube. “I saw how important teamwork was to glass blowing, and that’s the way I taught glass blowing at Rhode Island.”

Close-up of the sea sculpture.

He elevated glass as a fine art after he and a couple of his friends cofounded the Pilchuck Glass School at Washington State in 1971. Whereas at the time Seattle had few glass blowers, now the city boasts more glass artists and glassblowers than any place in the world, according to Chihuly. In 1980, when sales from his galleries exceeded his income as a professor at RISD, he quit teaching and returned to Seattle, where he said he’s been ever since. Chihuly rarely blows glass himself, which is a result of having gone blind in his left eye from an automobile accident in England in 1976. Having lost peripheral vision and depth perception, he relied on team members to blow the glass. By not being the head glass blower and not having to focus on finishing the piece at hand, he’s been able to enjoy watching his team and participating in the entire experience. Some teams numbered as high as 18, though he had more than 100 artists and craftsmen working to produce his visions.

Filaments and drops of glass and light.

Chihuly has many well-known works of art, but at a certain point he began to expand into doing large architectural installations and commissions for residences, hotels, and casinos around the world, including Venice, Dubai, London, and Jerusalem. His garden series has been exhibited in London, New York, and Chicago., among other cities He has done about 15 to 20 different series of works in the span of 40 years. His glass baskets series, for example, was inspired by his collection of Native American woven baskets, but his series of seashells began as a result of a piece that unintentionally turned out looking like a seashell.

Glass rods and what looks like eggplant bubble up from the earth.

Chihuly is no longer actively blowing glass. Instead, he has devoted his time to painting. The Chihuly Garden & Glass includes his paintings, as well. “I want to have a good time,” he said, of painting. “And then I want to work. Hopefully, if I work for two or three hours, I might come up with something I haven’t drawn before. A lot of it is just working. If you’re doing it, things just happen. It should feel good while you’re doing it. If it starts to feel like work, then I’ll stop.”

Standing beside a glass yucca tree in the garden.

Amazing exhibition hall, glasshouse, and garden
I didn’t have any expectations going into the Exhibition Hall, which is the best state to be in when you’re going to view an exhibit or see a movie or attend a concert. His work is pretty astonishing, and they are expertly lit and properly displayed against lacquered black walls and floors. The colors are deep and rich, and the patterns intricate. The shapes are the result of amazing control. He could not have achieved these works without a big and talented team. I recommend this exhibit, especially the Glasshouse, a 40-foot-tall, 4,500-square-foot structure made of glass and steel, which houses Chihuly’s 100-foot-long suspended sculpture resembling flowers in reds, yellows, oranges, and amber. The Glasshouse is where I’d want to have a grand party. The Garden exhibit is equally enjoyable, with glass plants and flowers mingling with live flora.

The suspended 100-foot-long glass structure hangs inside the Glasshouse. The Space Needle is to the left.

Afterwards, we ate a late lunch at the Collections Café, which is part of the exhibition hall. The menu offers fresh and local ingredients and food that is inspired by Chihuly’s travels. The restaurant is a long rectangular shape, with 36 of his large drawings backlit on the wall facing the wall of windows. I got a kick out of the shadow box tables that displayed Chihuly’s collections of vintage and antique wares, including cameras, radios, wind-up tin toys, mercury glass, Christmas ornaments, and shaving brushes, among other old items. Tall shelves house carnival chalkware, and suspended above the ceiling were more than 80 accordions. What a great concept and way to display and share his collections. This vintage lover certainly appreciated it.

From the Chihuly Bookstore, a 1914 globe pocket watch with optical lens and skeleton key (Corter, handmade in New England).

Café tables display Chihuly’s vintage and antique collections.

Accordions are suspended from the Collections Café ceiling.

The Space Needle, seemingly intertwined with the glass structure, viewed from inside the warm Glasshouse.

Exploring Seattle’s Space Needle and Pike Place Market

Posted on February 11, 2013 by Patty

In wisdom gathered over time, I have found that every experience is a form of exploration.
– Ansel Adams, American photographer and environmentalist

From Austin, I was supposed to head to Los Angeles and then Seattle on my five-city business trip, but I didn’t end up going to the last two destinations because of rescheduling issues. Still, since David and the kids were slated to join me this past weekend, we decided to stick with our original travel plans, and we flew just for the weekend to visit with good friends of ours, John and Kris. John and David have been friends since nursery school, and John was one of the groomsmen at our wedding. It’s a testament to their enduring friendship, though we haven’t seen them in two years and it’s been several years since we have traveled to the Pacific Northwest to visit them.

I’ve been to Seattle seven times. When I was on assignment in Seattle and Portland to cover an article on venture capitalism (VC) in the Pacific Northwest many years ago, I was able to conduct research on my novel. My father, his cousins, and many of his fellow compatriots traveled by steamship from Manila and entered the United States at the Port of Seattle. If the Filipinos didn’t have relatives already in the States to pick them up, most of them stayed in hotels in the International District, home of the citySeattle’s Chinatown, only to be conned by foremen into signing away their lives to migrant farm work. After my VC interviews, I was lucky enough to be in that area of town and found a couple of the infamous hotels where the men were given room until they were carted off to various parts of the country to pick whatever fruit or vegetable that was currently in harvest.

My view of the Space Needle through a web of tree branches.

Atop the Space Needle
In all the times I’ve been to Seattle, I’ve never been to the Space Needle (400 Broad Street, 206.905.2111). It’s something you do, though, when you have kids, and after the fact, I’m glad that we went. I knew that it was built for the 1962 World’s Fair and celebrated the young city’s vision for its and the country’s future in space exploration, but that’s pretty much the extent of my knowledge of the iconic symbol of Seattle.

Of course, once there, I learned more. The theme of the World’s Fair was Century 21. This was the time of the Cold War, and the U.S. was in a race with the Soviet Union to determine who would dominate the space program. President Kennedy was supposed to attend the closing ceremony on October 21, 1962, but canceled due to a “cold,” which later turned out to be a cover for his having to handle the Cuban Missile Crisis.

A view of downtown Seattle from the Space Needle.

After several attempts at finding the right centerpiece that would define the city long after the event was over – in the same way the Eiffel Tower did for Paris after the 1889 World’s Fair – Edward Carlson, president of Western International Hotels and chairman of the fair, found inspiration in the Stuttgart Tower in Germany. Several architects and versions of drawings later, as a result of trying to make the model structurally sound, the Space Needle’s current form came to be. Finding a location and financing – at a cost of $4.5 million – became the next obstacles. Both were obtained, and the Space Needle was constructed in just 13 months – just in time for the opening of the World’s Fair.

Every day nearly 20,000 people took the elevator to the top of the Space Needle, for a total of 2.3 million visitors for the duration of the fair. The Space Needle paid for itself in short order, and continues to be Seattle’s number one attraction. It takes 41 seconds to reach the top via the elevator, and your stomach definitely drops during both the ascent and descent. The 360-degree view of the city is wonderful. While we didn’t go to any of the other venues in the area such as the Pacific Science Center and the Experience Music Project (though we did go to the Chihuly Garden, which I’ll highlight in Wednesday’s blog entry), you could easily spend a day in the area.

Wandering around Pike Place Market at night.

Wandering through Pike Place Market
After a late lunch, we headed over to Pike Place Market, which has always been a destination every time I’ve come to Seattle. I enjoy walking up and down the stalls, sampling the jellies and other goodies and admiring the various goods crafted by local artisans. We also returned in the morning after Sunday brunch and were entertained by two street musicians, Whitney Monge and Morrison Boomer, whom we really enjoyed. Monge has a soulful voice, and the band had a kick to their music.

Kicking it up a notch with street band Morrison Boomer.

We picked up a salve that is supposed to clear up eczema, which my daughter has, and skin irritation, which David has, so we’ll see if the product by the Fay Farm – “handcrafted natural body products” – works (913 Tomchuck Lane, Greenbak, WA 98253, 360.222.3036, soapmaker@thefayfarm.com). Claudia Rice Kelly (Claudia Kelly’s Collection, 1916 Pike Place #12-341, Studio 253.941.2665) made some beautiful scarves, bow ties, and velvet jackets made of silk and velvet. Micks Peppourri (P.O. Box 8324, Yakima, WA 98908, 800.204.5679) had an overwhelming number of tasty pepper jellies, namely lime, pomegranate, and the cabernet. David and the kids went crazy over the Woodring Northwest Specialties spicy pickles and pepper and specialty jellies.

Admiring the scarves while being chatted up by the scarf lady.

As usual, the weekend was too short, but John and Kris let us know there is plenty more to Seattle we’ve yet to see, including the Boeing Museum. So that just means we have to come back, which is always a good reason to me.

Drawn to an Art Nouveau-style scarf that had different colors on either side.

One thing I’ve embraced is that wherever I go, especially if I’ve been there before, I want to find something new to see, appreciate, and learn about. Whether it’s a vintage shop or a historical landmark or a novel destination – a hidden gem – suggested by a local or a visitor, find something new. It makes the usual special again and our world ever more expansive.

Seafood does not get any fresher than this at Pike Place Market.

In search of Sunday brunch at Pike Place Market.

Austin’s Sunday bluegrass brunch and the LBJ Library and Museum

Posted on February 6, 2013 by Patty

It is the excitement of becoming – always becoming, trying, probing, falling, resting, and trying again – but always trying and always gaining . . .
– Lyndon Baines Johnson, 36th U.S. President, Inaugural Address, January 20, 1965

Threadgill’s West Riverside Drive location did not have the Sunday gospel brunch today.

An Austin bluegrass brunch to remember
Thanks to a recommendation from Irene Koch at BHIX, we set our sights on the Sunday gospel brunch at Threadgill’s (301 W. Riverside Drive, Austin, 512.472.9304). We arrived early, secured a corner booth, and enjoyed our Southern breakfast, but it turned out that the choir thought there wasn’t a performance today (perhaps because it was Super Bowl Sunday?) and wasn’t going to show up. Thinking quickly, we decided to hot-foot it to the other Threadgill’s location (6416 N. Lamar – Austin, 512.451.5440) and arrived a half-hour after the bluegrass performance began.

The Sunday bluegrass brunch was a go at the Threadgill's North Lamar location!

The Sunday bluegrass brunch was a go at Threadgill’s North Lamar location!

Though I would have loved to have waved and clapped my hands to a soul-stirring gospel performance, I am very glad we heard Out of the Blue, a trio comprising Jamie Stubblefield on guitar, Ginger Evans on bass, and Rob Lifford on mandolin. What a treat! We heard traditional bluegrass, as well as their renditions of Bob Dylan and the Beatles’ “My Life.” The best song was the lively one that, of course, I didn’t record. It’s called “The Hangman’s Reel,” and required a lot of flying fingers on the strings. I really love the sound of the mandolin, though I am fond of the guitar and the bass, as well. All three were terrific on their respective instruments. I was hoping to link to one of their songs, but the size of the files were too large. Definitely check out their site to hear their music.

Local bluegrass trio Out of the Blue making beautiful music.

Here’s an interesting piece of local history: Kenneth Threadgill, a country singer and tavern owner, opened his gas station at the Austin city limits in 1933 and sold gas, food, and beer – when the Prohibition law was repealed. In fact, he was the first one in the state to get a liquor license post-Prohibition. He transformed the gas station into a tavern that featured live entertainment. After the war, Threadgill and his Hootenanny Hoots played to packed houses, which included local college students who also performed on stage. One such University of Texas student was Janis Joplin, who became good friends with the Threadgills and sang at his venue. While some credit Threadgill’s for starting her career, the modest Threadgill said that she “started herself” at his place. Austin is known for its musical roots, and we were lucky to get a taste of local bluegrass.

The Living-large legacy of LBJ
After brunch, we went to the Lyndon Baines Johnson Library and Museum (2313 Red River Street, Austin, 512.721.0200, donation of $8 for adults), which is on the grounds of the University of Texas. The museum covers three expansive floors, and his archives alone house 45 million pages of documents, photographs, video, and audio files, which are the raw materials documenting his life and times.

The Lyndon Baines Johnson Library and Museum is an enormous building on the campus of the University of Texas at Austin.

While LBJ is known to many of my contemporaries as the President who was mired in the Vietnam War, it should be mandatory for all school children to visit this museum and see just how much LBJ transformed America and continues to influence all of us to this day as a result of his Great Society vision and legislation. It’s staggering to catalog the many groundbreaking pieces of legislation he pushed through Congress, but you know me, I have to give it a go.

Landmark legislation
I was familiar with the bigger pieces of legislation, namely the 1964 Civil Rights Act that ended segregation, the 1965 Voting Rights Act that eliminated poll taxes that African-Americans had to pay to vote and deliberately confusing literacy tests they were subjected to before they could vote, and finally the Civil Rights Act of 1968. I was also familiar with his Economic Opportunity Act, which was the centerpiece of LBJ’s War on Poverty and signed into law in 1964. The act created several social programs in the areas of education, healthcare, and the general welfare of those people in the lower-economic class. Head Start and Job Corps are two of the few remaining programs. I remember the now-defunct Volunteers in Service to America (VISTA) program when I was growing up, and much admired its work, along with Kennedy’s Peace Corps.

The LBJ Library and Museum face an expansive courtyard.

The LBJ Library and Museum faces an expansive courtyard.

In 1963, JBJ signed the Clean Air Act, which was established to combat air pollution and the first of many acts to protect the environment. LBJ was the first President to sign into law clean air and water quality legislation, and he went on to sign laws for pesticide control, water resource planning, solid waste disposal, highway beautification, air quality, and water and sanitation systems in rural areas, among other areas. The Water Quality Act combatted water pollution by seeking higher water quality standards, and the Wilderness Act formalized the process of designating wilderness areas for protection.

In 1965, he signed the Immigration and Nationality Act, which allowed immigrants of color – not just immigrants of European descent – to come into America. The Social Security Amendment in 1965 created Medicare and Medicaid. While the system needs an overhaul today, it remains, in my opinion, a critical safety net for older Americans, and indeed, for us all. I for one can say that without Medicare my sisters and I would have had to borrow money out of our homes to pay for the seven-plus total weeks that our mother was in the ICU and then an acute-care facility. Our mother was a hard worker, paid into her pension and Social Security, saved a lot of money, and even took out secondary health insurance, but there was no way she could have paid for those last weeks of her life.

LBJ also passed the Elementary and Secondary Education Act, and the Higher Education Act, which provided financial assistance for low-income families. The latter act provided Pell Grants, which my sisters and I received – and put to good use. The Heart Disease Care and Cancer and Stroke amendment to the Public Health Service Act and the Cigarette Labeling and Advertisement Act paved the way for research of diseases caused by tobacco use and awareness about the dangers of smoking.

The staircase from the 3rd floor to the 4th floor gives you a view of the impressive collection of LBJ’s archives.

The Child Protection Act of 1966 ensured that manufacturers made safe toys. The National Traffic and Motor Vehicle Safety Act mandated safety belt use. (He also signed the Highway Safety Act the same year.) It reminded me of an older friend who used to give me rides to the evening choral rehearsals with the San Francisco State University choir. Whenever we would come to a stop sign, her right arm instinctively shot out, a reflex of the pre-safety belt days when it was common practice to put one’s arm out to protect the passenger. In that same year, LBJ signed the Freedom of Information Act, which allowed citizens to access formerly classified documents, and the Fair Packaging and Labeling Act, which was designed to provide more information to educate consumers.

In 1967, the Public Broadcast Act enabled the formation of the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, which in turn established the Public Broadcasting System and National Public Radio, which David and I enjoy, as do many of our friends. LBJ was responsible for creating the National Endowment for the Arts and the National Endowment for the Humanities under the National Foundation on the Arts and the Humanities Act. And in that year, he appointed Thurgood Marshall as a justice to the Supreme Court.

A photo-engraved magnesium mural of "A Generation of Presidents" includes LBJ in the Great Hall o the 4th floor.

A photo-engraved magnesium mural of “A Generation of Presidents” includes LBJ in the Great Hall of the 4th floor.

In 1968, he signed the Fire Control Act, Fire Research and Safety Act, and the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act. The Fair Housing Act guaranteed that people of color were not discriminated against when they tried to buy a home. By signing the National Trails System Act, LBJ created the 2,663-mile-long Pacific Crest Trail enjoyed by many a nature lover.

We spent three and a half hours at the museum, and that was only because the museum was closing. We hurried through the 10th floor, which had a smaller-scale version of LBJ’s Oval Office. I think another half-hour would have sufficed, but I learned so much about a man who had a vision about creating a better America and world through his Great Society but was tortured by an unwinnable war that he could not end. (A side note: The Fog of War, a 2003 documentary by Errol Morris about LBJ’s secretary of defense Robert McNamara, illustrates the complexities of the Vietnam War and LBJ’s dilemma. This documentary is highly recommended!) What is amazing is the legacy LBJ did leave, which I so anal retentively and chronologically cataloged.

Here are some amazing statistics that I took with me: When LBJ entered the presidency, the percent of Americans living in poverty in the U.S. was 22 percent. When he left, it was 13 percent. (Another source in the museum said that the reduction went from 20 percent to 12 percent.) No other president has been able to make such an impact on this scourge. He was instrumental in adding 36 sites – a total of 10 million acres – to the National Park System. And he was the founder of the U.S. space program, which fostered the belief that humans could achieve anything.

A statue of LBJ greets you at the entrance of his library and museum.

LBJ understood poverty after his freshman year in college when he took a teaching assignment in a small rural town in Texas called Cotulla, where his predominantly Mexican-American students were poor and often came to school on empty stomachs. Back then he understood that poverty is a symptom not a cause, and that in order to eradicate poverty, we would have to as a great society work together to ensure quality healthcare, education, housing, and job training, and address violence in our communities. The vision of the Great Society was not meant to be a handout but rather a hand up, to make individuals and their communities self-sustaining.

I doubt my kids – at ages 10 and 12.5 – would have had to patience to go through every display and exhibit as we did, but even if they could retain just a smidgeon of what I learned today, their knowledge of one of the most visionary presidents in modern times would have been enhanced greatly. There is truly not a day goes by that someone in our country is not impacted by legislation signed by LBJ. That’s quite a legacy. To quote LBJ: “The Great Society asks not how much, but how good; not only how to create wealth, but how to use it; not only how fast we are going, but where we are headed. It proposes as the first test for a nation: the quality of its people.”

A Meal to end an eventful day
How to end such a full day? After hitting up Feathers again, we decided to take on another suggestion by our friend at Uncommon Objects. We settled ourselves at Woodland (1716 S. Congress Avenue, 512.441.6800), which features appetizers such as spiced pork empanadas, southern corn fritters, and crispy fried Gulf oysters. We enjoyed the roast duck tostada as appetizer (slow-cooked pork seasoned with cumin, cayenne, and red chili in a masa crust with a tomatillo dipping sauce) and the porcini-dusted salmon on a blanket of leek risotta and drizzled with truffle oil. Both were worthy meals to close out my last full day as a tourist in this fun city.

Peasant Jewelry by Michael Hickey features deconstructed rosary pieces and a bone.

Peasant Jewelry by Michael Hickey at Feathers. The religious medallion at the top opens up to an engraving inside.

Exploring Austin, vintage style

Posted on February 4, 2013 by Patty

Fashions fade, style is eternal.
– Yves Saint Laurent, French fashion designer

Ever since I read an article in Elle Magazine a year and a half ago about Esperanza Spalding, American jazz bassist and singer who won the 2011 Grammy Award for Best New Artist, I’ve nurtured this desire to visit the city Spalding moved to from Jersey City – Austin, Texas. So when I found out I was going to moderate a roundtable event in Austin in early February, I gleefully pulled out the article and made a little list of destination spots.

So here I am, after a week-long business trip. I flew from Dallas to San Antonio, where my sister lives. Slight detour: We saw the movie, Quartets, which stars Maggie Smith and a cast of actors who had played in the symphony, sang opera on stage, or had some professional musical connection. The British comedy-drama is set at a retirement home for musicians and revolves around an annual concert to honor Verdi’s birthday and to raise funds to keep Beecham House afloat. As reviews have noted, it’s predictable, but it’s sweet and the performances of the veteran actors are touching, the scenery is quite beautiful, and one of my all-time favorite actors, Dustin Hoffman, debuted as the director.

Okay, back to the travels. On Saturday, Heidi drove us to Austin. It was in the upper 70s temperature-wise, which is a roughly 60-degree upswing from what it was when I landed in New York last Saturday. I ditched the parka and ski socks, but alas, I didn’t bring sandals, shorts, or short-sleeved tops, which is pretty much what everyone else there was wearing. It didn’t just feel like summer, it was summer in Austin.

Once we unloaded our things, we headed for South Congress Avenue, where two of Spalding’s favorite vintage shops reside. One of Spalding’s frequent haunts is Feathers (1700b South Congress Ave., Austin, 512.912.9779), which is actually tucked away on Milton Street, a side street of South Congress Avenue. One of the sales associates there told me that people are familiar with the store, thanks to Spalding’s article and honors it has earned such as Top 15 Vintage Shops in the U.S. I have to say that the four-room shop is quite impressive in that it is well curated and displayed by color. Dresses from the 1920s through the 1950s were fun to look at.

A hand-tooled leather purse from the 1930s-1940s, according to the salesperson at Feathers.

The moment I stepped into the shop, I immediately spotted a beautiful hand-tooled leather purse from the 1930s-1940s era, with a velveteen-lined interior and a pocket with what looked like it was once a mirror. I was told by the sales clerk that the jewelry designer – Michael Hickey of Peasant Jewelry – whose works I was admiring used to be local but has since moved to Pittsburgh. Upon further investigation, I’m not so sure this critical-access-nurse-by-day and self-taught artist ever lived in Austin, but his jewelry, which combines found objects, bones, reclaimed vintage, and deconstructed rosary beads to name a few of his materials, is popular here. In an interview from a 2009 Pittsburgh news media, he said that he customizes his jewelry according to the requests from shops – Austin gets his “truly dark stuff.” Hmmm.

Uncommon Objects’ storefront on South Congress Avenue.

Spalding’s other vintage shop recommendation is Uncommon Objects (1512 S. Congress Ave., Austin, 512.442.4000), whose tag line is “raw materials for creative living.” The shop is deep and stuffed with an unimaginable number of vintage objects. It’s pretty dizzying, and it was pretty crowded. In fact, South Congress Avenue was teeming with college students, food trucks, and big SUVs and trucks (the automakers must make Texas-size SUVs and trucks just for the state’s citizens). We literally had to wait for a line of people to file out before we could walk in.

Every nook and cranny of Uncommon Objects is packed with vintage treasures.

That said, once you step inside, you are greeted – or assaulted, depending upon your level of love for vintage – by a wonderland of antiques, vintage finds, and reclaimed vintage jewelry! What I found really appealing about Uncommon Objects is that the curators displayed the goods in an aesthetically pleasing way. Some of the stalls, or areas, comprising 24 purveyors of “curious goods,” were arranged by color – red, creamy white – while others were arranged by decade or era, such as the 1950s-style lamps, glassware, chairs, chandeliers, secretaries, and tall lava vases, which we had in our living room growing up, that defined one stall. It was fun to walk through and check out the many items. If not rushed and not having to avoid bumping into people all the time, I would have spent a good couple of hours exploring this fun shop.

Just one slice of Uncommon Objects’ vintage jewelry display.

My favorite area, of course, was the jewelry cabinets, which would have been dripping with jewels because there were so many in the case except that they were displayed in a very organized (read: anal retentive) way. The shop had an amazing amount of 1930s to 1960s rhinestone earrings, brooches, and necklaces, but though I oohed and aahed over the dazzling pieces, I had to remind myself of a jewelry case full of eBay treasures back home (darn, the memory was good in that instance). Antique evening purses and gloves, reminiscent of nights out for the opera or symphony, broke up the rows and layers of jewelry.

I was mesmerized by a whole cabinet of reclaimed-vintage and found-object necklaces and bracelets by Ren of Lux Revival. We were told by the very patient sales clerk who waited on us that the artist is local, but upon further investigation, thanks to the internet, I discovered that the company, which was formed by longtime friends and collaborators Lisa Yesh and Ren Guidry, is actually based in Los Angeles. I’d rather support local artists, especially if I’m bringing something home and want to proudly say, “They’re local artists.” Maybe one or both were originally from Austin or spent some time in Austin, but the most I can say is that I got this beautiful, unique necklace from Uncommon Objects in Austin. And Heidi generously got me a necklace from the same designers, as well.

Lots of vintage cameras to choose from.

We checked out a cowboy boot shop, where you can’t touch the boots but you are encouraged to ask for help. Though lovely, hand-tooled, and with heels hand-stacked, the boots were out of my price range. The rest of the five or so blocks of South Congress Avenue were okay. By five o’clock, after not having lunch, I was ready to eat dinner.

All things cream-colored are on display here.

Dining in Austin
We sought the recommendations of our Uncommon Objects sales clerk for a local dining experience that had good food, fewer crowds, and was reasonably priced. His co-worker gave him a hard time for not recommending many good places on South Congress Avenue, but we were done with the crowds. If we were to stay in the neighborhood, he recommended Woodland (1716 S. Congress Avenue, 512.441.6800) and Enoteca Vespaio (1610 S. Congress Avenue, 512.441.7672), a bistro-inspired café, which serves antipasti, pizza, pastas, and pastries.

He suggested going to another part of town, where a trio of restaurants would meet our needs. Justine’s Brassiere (4710, E. 5th Street, Austin, 512.385.2900) is a candlelit French bistro that features old jazz and reggae. East Side Show Room (1100 E. 6th Street, 512.467.4280) is a vintage live music bar and serves gulf shrimp and fried oysters, pork belly ravioli, goat meatballs, and grass-fed blue cheese burgers.

We settled on Hillside Farmacy (1209 E. 11th Street, Austin, 512.628.0168), which I imagined was a farm-to-table concept since the name of the restaurant played with the word “pharmacy.” The eatery and grocery, however, resides in an unassuming green building with a dirt parking lot, which was once called the Hillside Pharmacy in the 1950s. It was warm enough to dine outdoors in front of the restaurant, but once you walk in, you appreciate the theme, which recreates the drugstore vibe, complete with original restored pharmacy cabinetry, black-and-white tiled floor, and drugstore-type tables and chairs. We ordered the cheese platter and braised short ribs. While the cheese platter was good, the braised short ribs were bland and I had trouble (in the candlelit room) determining what was fat and what was meat. The bread pudding was more of a raisin French toast than what I’m usually accustomed to, and service was spotty.

All in all, it was an okay meal. If only I had read what restaurant Spalding had recommended – Justine’s – because I completely trust her taste in vintage shops. Next time!

We were slated to attend a Sunday gospel brunch at Threadgill’s, go to the LBJ Library and Museum, and return to South Congress Avenue for a quick review of the vintage stores again. Stay tuned for a review of these places on Wednesday.

Reclaimed vintage rosary beads, hook and hardware, and metal matchbox by Ren of Lux Revival, designed for Uncommon Objects.

A longer chain holds a reclaimed vintage metal matchbox by Ren of Lux Revival, designed for Uncommon Objects.

The Dress at 50

Live the creative, meaningful, and full life

Category Archives: Fashion

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