Home > Wendy Does Waco > Archives > 2008 > October
October 2008
The freaks came out at night
MORE ROCKY HORROR
In a word: Awesome
I can’t speak for ticket sales or anything, but I’m gonna go ahead and declare Thursday night’s viewing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show at the Hippodrome a huge success.
That has to have been the naked-est crowd the stately Hippodrome has ever seen. There were fishnets, bustiers and wigs galore and even a singe pair of gold briefs. I went as a Transylvanian, because it was easy. And I met up with my own little troupe of freaks — Magenta (Amanda), Riff (Dan), Janet (Mary) and Brad (Doug).
The energy at the show was great and I was especially glad to see RHPS fans of all ages. Amanda was even sweet enough to point out that when I first fell in love with RHPS in high school, Amanda was three years old. Thanks, sweetie.
The Queerios, the shadow cast from Austin was good, but honestly, the people who made my night were the locals who were so diehard, they knew every line to shout. To all of them, I say thank you.
The Hippodrome brought the weird out in Waco for sure. I hope to see much more of that. We’ll be posting a video from the event soon, so watch for that. For now, here are some of my own personal pics.
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Get ur freak on.
I see you shiver with antici … pation.
Or maybe that’s just me. Yes, I am totally, through the roof, freakish excited about Rocky Horror Picture Show at the Hippodrome tomorrow. Just the thought of it is making me dizzy with nostalgia for tenth grade, when I first discovered RHPS. I long to put on Doc Martens, light up a clove and listen to Sisters of Mercy.
Nah, just going to the show tomorrow night is all I need to get my freak on (yes, I’m taking liberties with this phrase). I hope to see Wacoans from all walks let their wilder side out for the night.
For those not in the know, the event is a viewing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show, but oh, so much more. A live cast is coming up from Austin and of course audience participation is encouraged. In fact, the Hippodrome will even be selling prop bags for $3, which I think is ingenious. If what I’ve just said still makes no sense, pick up a Thursday Trib and check out Access Waco.
As long as I’m fawning over the Hippodrome, I’m just going to go all the way and say that all you Waco naysayers need to step up and recognize the coolness of this little town having a RHPS viewing. Tell me that things aren’t changing around here.
There are still tickets, so come out, Dress up or not, I don’t care. I still don’t know what I’m wearing. Hope to see you there!
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Shameless self promotion
So, there are a few things you should know about me. My favorite word is “serendipity”, I like to make nonsensical “your mom” jokes, I have a tiny mole on my bottom lip that people always think is chocolate and try to brush off …
… And I am all about shameless self promotion.
I have not only purhcased wendydoeswaco.com, but I have had it instantly routed to my Trib blog. So it’s super easy to get to now and super easy for people to remember the address. Sharpie in hand, I have been doing my best to spread the message (ok, so mostly on the picnic tables at the Bear, but I have plans to expand to the bathroom walls at Scruffs).
I also have been looking into search engine optimization for my blog. A friend said having content about mesothelioma is a good move, though I have yet to figure out how to work asbestos cancer into a Waco-flavored blog post. I’ll keep working on it.
I’d like to get my page views up, so along with marketing my blog, I may soon be expanding it. More on that later. I’d love to field your advice on what you’d like to see here also, though. What do you think would bring more readers ‘round? Oh, and I’d love any advice you have on how to creatively market wendydoeswaco.com. It’s sort of my pet project. I also need a design for the address … any of you designers have suggestions?
Anyway, this is fun, so play with me.
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The young vote
This week, I’m looking into how the election is playing itself out in Waco classrooms.
I’ve done this story with previous elections and I always find it interesting. My favorite thing in the world is to come across kids who have made up their own minds on a candidate and aren’t just spewing back their parents’ beliefs.
I can’t wait to hear what Waco kids have to say. In the meantime, I’m entertaining myself with a video from a school’s presidential debate. For those of you who don’t know rap, the kids are singing to the tune of T.I.’s “Whatever You Like.” They are arguing both for McCain and Obama.
I don’t usually do this, but it’s so great I wanted to share it with you. I’ve posted the lyrics as well.
Obama on the left McCain on the right We can talk politics all night And you can vote however you like… (McCain supporters) McCain’s the best candidate With Palin as his running mate They’ll fight for gun rights, pro life, The conservative right Our future is bright Better economy in site And all the world will feel our military might
I want Obama FORGET OBAMA, Stick wit McCain you gone have some drama MORE WAR IN IRAQ Iran he will attack CAN’T BRING OUR TROOPS BACK We gotta vote Barack!
(Obama supporters) But McCain and Bush are real close right They vote alike and keep it tight Obama’s new, he’s younger too The Middle Class he will help you He’ll bring a change, he’s got the brains McCain and Bush are just the same You are to blame, Iraq’s a shame Four more years would be insane
Lower your Taxes - you know Obama Won’t PROTECT THE LOWER CLASS - You know McCain won’t! Have enough experience - you know that they don’t STOP GLOBAL WARMING - you know that you won’t
I want Obama FORGET OBAMA Stick with McCain and you’re going to have some drama We need it HE’LL BRING IT He’ll be it YOU’LL SEE IT We’ll do it GET TO IT Let’s move it DO IT!
I’m talking big pipe lines, and low gas prices Below $2.00 that would be nice
But to do it right we gotta start today Finding renewable ways that are here to stay
Democratic left Republican right November 4th we decide And you can vote however you like, I said You can vote however you like, yeah
I
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She returns, in flip flops and a parka
It’s Monday and I’m back from vacation and feeling thoroughly ashamed for my blog absence as of late. There’s really no excuse.
I mostly did the stay-cation thing all week, though my short hiatus probably looked more like sick leave or unemployment than an at-home vacation. I watched an unhealthy amount of Netflix, ran a couple of errands and did not mop my floor. Some friends I very much wanted to hang out with were nowhere to be found, but Caitlin and I put in a lot of quality time, including throwing a freaking awesome pumpkin carving soiree at The Bear.
I also had one very real revelation in the midst of all this time to think — I have officially become my mom.
Some girls have this revelation one day when they look at their hands while driving. For others, their my mother/myself moment comes when they channel their mom’s voice while talking to their kids. For me, it came while wearing flip flops and a knee length skirt in 50 degree weather.
See, when my mom moved back to San Antonio from St. Louis, she said it was to be near friends, etc., but I knew the real reason. She longed to wear shorts year round. My mom is a summer girl, wearing khaki shorts and a classy tee with matching flip flops like a second skin. And apparently, I’ve become that girl as well.
Though I love the cool weather that’s been blowing into Waco, I’m a little worried about my wardrobe. My winter clothes feel so dowdy and dorky. And winter shoes, well, I can hardly bear the thought.
I should be freaked out by the economy or the MRI I need on my back, but instead I’m trying to figure out what the winter version of an Old Navy flip flop is. My feet have become so resistant to cover that a pair of Crocs even gave them a blister the other day. My predlilection for bare feet seems to have created a near affliction. Leave it to me to do something that strange.
Anyway, I’ve found it convenient to blame this all on my mom and the warm summer genes she handed down. I’m curious whether there are others out there suffering the same awkward wardrobe challenges as Waco’s two weeks of winter approach.
I just ask thet if you see me out at an interview in wool slacks and flip flops or running around on the weekend in shorts and a sweater, don’t point and ridicule, but perhaps shake your head an take pity on me. I’m just doing what comes naturally.
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R.I.P. Waco
I can’t lie. Driving through the big iron gates of Oakwood Cemetery as the car’s lights cut through pitch black and played across marble monuments for the dead — I was expecting to be fully creeped out.
As I pointed my tiny flashlight at the less than adequate map I had for the cemetery plots, I could feel helplessness and a tinge of something darker crawl up the back of my neck.
And then David Evans walked into Oakwood, into my evening and into my Waco experience. David, who basically grew up around Oakwood and runs it today, played host to me and Chris and Amie Oliver as we made a cool little video for the Trib.
Happy to help, he showed us the graves of several of the people on my list — William Cowper Brann, Sul Ross, Pat Neff — and others that I didn’t even know to ask about. I got a full history lesson, listening to Evans tell stories. All the governors and business men and founders of this city, I knew their names and vague connections, but that’s all they were to me. Somehow, hearing little stories and seeing where they were laid to rest made these people more real to me. Weird, huh?
While I was impressed by the facts and stories, what made a bigger impression on me was David’s reverence and fondness for the 160-acre cemetery. And then there were all the gorgeous monuments, especially the angels. They’re enough to make me think twice about cremation.
I walked into Oakwood thinking it was the creepiest place in Waco and walked out, having found it to be the one of the most peaceful and educational places in town. Thanks David, for being guide through another side of Waco. I’ll definitely go back during the day and commune a little more with old Waco.
Oakwood Cemetery, off of Lasalle, is open from about 7:30 a.m. to sundown everyday.
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A night at Oakwood Cemetery
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Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa
You have to forgive me for leaving you hanging all week. I started out with the best of intentions, really, but this seems to have been the week of me not finishing things (who am I kidding? I’ve spent 33 years not finishing things!). But enough with the self deprecation.
I’ve got some cool stuff brewing for y’all, but for today a little observational humor and some randomness is going to have to suffice.
First, I must give much props to the Austin Avenue Bank of America drive-thru tellers. No matter what melange of messed up i.d.s, checks and deposit slips I give them, they always hook me up, without even a sigh of exasperation. I appreciate that more than you know.
I mean, there are no set rules really for drive-thru service. It seems like a huge guessing game to me. I guess what the tellers might need to complete the transaction I’m wanting and then they have to guess what the heck I want them to do with the stuff I send them. I know I could use the teller call button, but they always look so busy, I just hate to bother them. Some day, just for giggles, I want to send a cucumber, a marble and some paper clips through the carrier, just to see what the tellers are able to make of that. I’m willing to bet they won’t disappoint. Either that, or I’ll be banned for life from the drive-thru. I’ll let you know how it goes.
In other news, I ran into Leah from the Olive Branch the other day and was happy to hear that she’s as anxious to get back to feeding downtown Waco as I am to get back to her homemade pesto. So, those of you feeling the Olive Branch void, hang in there! (I do have to admit though, the absence of the hot fudge brownie helps my diet immensely)
Speaking of food, don’t forget about World Hunger Relief’s Fall Farm Day tomorrow, from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. There will be live music, farm fresh food, artisan demonstrations and, as always, hayrides and pony rides to keep the kids interested.
Those are all the tidbits I can think of now. I’ll try to crank out some stuff this weekend and leave it for y’all for next week. Me? Since I don’t get to go home at Thanksgiving or Christmas, I’m going to San Antonio for a few days next week. I know my homies in Carolina would like to throttle me for not coming out there, but what can I say? I miss my Mommy and Daddy.
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Sarah Palin needs to find a new word
I want “maverick” back.
Several weeks ago, possibly before Palin had even been announced as the VP pick, I had lunch with a friend. Over said lunch, we talked a lot about Waco and this smart man talked about how Waco has this great “maverick” spirit right now. And I completely agreed.
Waco seems to be breaking out of its shell, braving new territory and a million other trite cliches. Anything seems possible. If you ever had a business idea for this town, or any idea for this town, try it now. It’s like the “old Waco” ties that binded (or bound if you’re a word nazi) are breaking.
I think even Webster (the dictionary, not the small black man) would agree that Waco is “an unbranded animal, esp. a strayed calf” right now. I’ll even go so far as to say that S. Maverick, the Texas rancher in the 1800s who did not brand his cattle and is the namesake of the term “maverick”, would say that our town is way more maverick than John McCain or Sarah Palin.
So I officially want the word back, Mrs. Palin. You can have all the cute little winks and hockey mom and Joe six-pack jokes you want. But, please, for the love of everything maverick-y, leave “maverick” to Waco.
Thanks! (wink!)
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Waco-wear
My brother once described the difference between Austin and Dallas to me in these terms: Dallas is a power suit and pearls and Austin is khaki shorts and sandals. I love these metaphors and have always felt that they captured these cities pretty well.
So here’s the burning question — what is Waco? Most days I feel like it’s wind shorts and Uggs (boots), and that suits me just fine. Not that you would ever catch my cold, stiff corpse wearing wind shorts with Uggs, but I do sincerely appreciate the casual factor that exists in this town.
In fact, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank all the girls who wear strange things like Uggs with wind shorts. It’s because of you that I am able to pull off flip flops with my favorite, perfectly creased, khaki dress slacks. Seriously, my gold, Old Navy, $5 flip flops have been my uniform this summer. I halfway expected to take crap about always wearing them, but, more often than that, I got compliments because they perfectly match my gold painted toes.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a classy girl and know what should be worn in different circumstances. But I love that this town is laidback enough to tolerate my pearls with a tank top. Or my yoga pants at the pub.
I think we owe the college crowd around here for creating a dressed-down climate with their Toms (shoes) and ponytails and even the occassional flannel pajama bottoms. Sure, when it’s ho:thirty and they’re out at Austin’s or Scruff’s they may teeter around in heels and tiny dresses, but that seems more like a costume for the night.
What do you think? Are we a wind shorts and Uggs kinda town, or am I giving the college crowd too much credit? If Waco was a fashion plate, what would it look like?
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Sleepy girl seeks vicarious scary fun
Once again, it’s the end of the week and here I am, handing out assignments to you, my dear readers.
See, I was flipping through Waco Today today and noticed the millions of things that are going on in the area this month. And I want to do ALL of them. But there is a certain genre of activity which, despite my desire to attend, I must stay far away from. Haunted houses.
I love the real thing (and that’s a whole nother blog post), but I CAN NOT go through a Halloween haunted house. It’s actually a medical problem.
You probably thought narcolepsy was weird because it’s a brain disorder that makes people fall asleep, but the sleepy part is actually the most normal of the narcolepsy symptoms. There’s something else called cataplexy that means when I feel a strong emotion, I lose muscle control.
Examples: Eddie Murphy’s Delirious stand-up makes me laugh so hard, I fall over on the sofa and pass out. Sometimes at work I get so angry about this or that, I have to immediately sit in my chair or I will literally crumple to the floor where I’m standing (have you ever tried to win an argument when you’ve lost the ability to stand or even speak? You kind of lose all cred at that point). And if someone jumps out at me in a Jason mask with a chainsaw (mixing my movies, I know), I will fall like a sack of potatoes and pass out.
Show of hands, who learned of narcolepsy by watching a film in your high school psychology class where a dog is running across a lawn and suddenly drops and passes out. That’s me at a haunted house. I’ve been to one ever. In 9th grade, as my narcolepsy was just showing up, but I had no idea I had it, I went to a haunted house with friends. After the first scare, I nearly lost it, I had to grab on to the person in front of me just to make it through (like I wasn’t already enough of a freak in high school, I really needed THAT to happen).
Now I’m a grown up narcoleptic and I know my limits, but still long for a good scare. So I’ll make you a deal. I’m going to the King Tut exhibit at the Dallas Museum of Art Saturday morning with my super cool Dallas friends Susie and Shawn. I promise to tell you about it if you promise to tell me about local haunted houses.
So go, get your pants scared off and think of me, the poor sleepy girl who can’t partake in that kind of fun. Tell me which places are the best and why. Make me jealous. Do it. I dare you. I double dog dare you. (so now you have to)
Have a great weekend!!!
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Lurkers, speak out!
I know you’re there. I can see you. Coffee in hand, clicking on my blog after you check your email at work first thing in the morning. Or maybe you check me out at lunch, before you scan Youtube for the Onion and Daily Show clips you’ve missed. Or perhaps you pop over at the end of the day, when you’ve already gotten ready to leave, and are just counting the seconds until the clock says 5 or 6 o’clock.
I know you’re out there because you show up in the number of page views I get. Yet you never stop to talk, to flirt or argue or even just say hi. You lurk, thus, I call you lurkers.
Sure, I have four or five regulars who comment on everything and that’s great. They’ve taken on comment personalities of their own. But it’s you lurkers who intrigue me.
What makes you smile? How hard are you to gross out? What do you do in Waco? What music do you listen to alone in your car? I love it when you stop me around town and tell me you read me. I’m always humbled and I loooove putting a new face with a lurker.
So this is me, just letting you know that I know you’re out there. And I’d like to extend an invitation for you to say hi. Go ahead, I’ll make the other kids in the comment pool play nice. I have that power, you know.
So let loose, give me suggestions, give me advice, give me hell. I don’t care. Lurkers, I beseech you, speak out!
