Road Trip Report: Music

A little background before I segue into today's topic:

When people marry, they each bring specific cultural and familial traditions to the table. Learning to mesh those traditions into a new family unit is part of making a marriage work. In our case, I introduced the concept of Jello-O as salad and an obsessive need for organization and control. Bill brought with him an immense love of music. And the idea that bacon grease is a condiment.

It's the whole music thing that we're getting into with today's road report. But first, a bit more background...

In my childhood home, music was not a destination. Like wallpaper, we were dimly aware of it in the background, but it never intruded into our consciousness. Music in the car was played at a level just loud enough to cover any awkward silences, but low enough that conversation could take place unimpeded. My Dad owned one album, "Eddie Arnold's Greatest Hits." Someone gave it to him as a gift. I'm not sure he ever played it. The only music we regularly listened to was in church on Sundays, and while we all took piano lessons, it was with the express purpose of being able to play in church if ever needed. Music as duty/wallpaper.

In Bill's home they DID music. It wasn't a means to an end--it WAS the end. Like a scene from The Waltons, they would gather in the front room and play their fiddles, banjos and guitars. Everything else stopped for the music. I still remember the first time I asked Bill to turn down the car radio so that we could talk (and hear ourselves think). He looked at me like I was crazy.

So, keep this in mind when I tell you that last Friday, while we were in San Antonio, Bill announced that we would be driving to Austin that night to hear his brother, John, play at a legendary Texas honky-tonk called The Broken Spoke. He was obviously looking forward to it. I was not. I have nothing against John or his music, it's just not in my nature to embrace an evening of loud music in the company of drunks. My first instinct was to wonder if the mood lighting at "The Spoke" would allow me to read a book or do some needlework. Remember... Unlike Bill, I have not been programmed from my youth to look forward to an evening of "honky-tonking."

But I snapped out of it and decided to approach the evening like any new cultural experience. After all, it might be fun. Like the karaoke competition at the German restaurant in Bangkok...

We met John at his apartment and spent an hour watching him change the strings on his two guitars. John is a man of precise, careful movements with an innate inability to hurry, so this was a little like watching paint dry. Then we headed over to The Spoke and spent a couple of hours watching people drink Lone Star beer and dance the Texas two-step in a place that can be charitably described as "a dump." That sound you hear is my honorary friend-of-Texas card being ripped to shreds.
The music was good and people were having a great time. In a weird way, the intensity on the faces of some of the dancers made me feel like I was at a Trekkie convention. With different costumes. I'm just saying...Some of those folks take their dancing MIGHTY seriously!
The strangest thing, though, was that every time the band played "I've Been Working on the Railroad," everyone stopped dancing and saluted the stage. I finally realized that they were actually playing "The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You," which sounds very much the same. I still don't get it.

On Saturday we had a different sort of cultural experience. Following Abby's baptism (which will be discussed in an upcoming report) we all went to Mi Tierra for lunch. Mi Tierra is an extraordinarily festive Mexican restaurant in Market Square--kind of like Olvera Street in L.A. There is an outdoor plaza and stage, lots of little shops and the Mi Tierra bakery and restaurant.
Because she was the guest of honor, Abby was serenaded with an impromptu number in Spanish which, loosely translated, was (I think) "Happy Birthday, Holy Baptism."

Ashton is the short guy in the seersucker suit.

The musical feast did not end with our lunch. Outside, in the plaza, there was a Selena-inspired talent competition taking place. The kids were so moved by the emotional intensity of the music that they performed an impromptu dramatic rendition of "Nacho Saves the Princesses."

Next time: Meals