Past & Present, W.Falls-Houston

Watching the rodeo, Wichita Falls, late 70s.

Two of my former roommates, lounging in what's left of their house after the 1979 tornado in Wichita Falls. I moved out of the house about a month before the twister.

Possum Kingdom Lake, North Texas, late 1970s. He survived.

Bluegrass festival, Oklahoma, late 1970s.

Fiddle player, bluegrass festival, Oklahoma, late 1970s.

The solar-powered Lake Jackson sign @ 65 mph.

Main Street, near Rice University, Houston.

Public Service Announcement, median of Highway 288, Houston. An electronic sign nearby states: "DWI Kills."

The statue of Dick Dowling, Hermann Park, Houston.

Half-Price Books in The Village, Houston.

This is a Kugel Ball.

Kugel Ball explainer, located outside the Museum of Natural Science, Houston.

Sam Houston, aka "The Raven."

No.

The Children's Museum, Houston.

A skater on the Galveston Seawall, early 1980s.

The Water Wall, with downtown Houston in the background.

Ride on, easy rider. Loop 610 South, Houston.

Hubcaps at Rollo's Racing on Richmond, in Houston.

Skateboarder & seagulls, Galveston, Tx., early 1980s.

Cowboy at the rodeo, Wichita Falls, Tx., late 1970s.

Post-tornado landscape, Wichita Falls, Tx., 1979.

Rodeo, Wichita Falls, Tx., late 1970s.

Horse excrement at Dickens On The Strand festival, Galveston, Tx., early 1980s.

Klan rally, Santa Fe, Tx., early 1980s, during the troubled times between Vietnamese and Anglo shrimpers.

Goose Creek oil field, Baytown, Tx., late 1970s. Most of these derricks are gone now.

Skateboarders on the seawall in Galveston, circa early '80s.

From the archives

In 1979, a tornado killed 45 people in and around Wichita Falls, Tx. This sign was stuck in the ruins of one home. I was working for The Wichita Falls newspaper at the time. I found this old print of mine in a box and made a digital copy shot to post on the photoblog. More archive copy shots to be posted in the future.

Kinky Friedman in Houston

Kinky apparel was selling briskly at Murder By The Book on Friday evening. Kinky apparel is becoming more and more popular, not only in Texas but also on the East and West coasts of North America. Caps that say "Get Kinky" also are sold.

People waited for well over an hour to have Kinky sign their books. Everyone waited patiently and quietly. There were no "incidents," police said.

Across the street from the bookstore, this banner was hung along the parking lot fence of The Volcano drinking establishment.

Kinky bumper stickers, Kinky posters. It's all part of the campaign strategery.

With his non-signing hand, Kinky took a moment to demonstrate one of his fabled JewJitsu moves, which is so cat-like quick that modern-age digital camera equipment cannot capture it adequately.

Kinky closes the deal with a handshake.

Education, Lake Jackson-style

If there's any doubt that Brazosport Independent School District is among the "rich" school districts in the State of Texas, behold the new Lake Jackson Intermediate School, located on Oyster Creek Drive in Lake Jackson. No stucco building for this high-flyin' book-learnin' outfit. This place looks like the Supreme Court building of some Middle East sheikdom. Weeeee-doggggies!!!

Check out these colonnades. When you build an intermediate school with all the architectural features that this new one has (including a skylight and clock tower!), you know somebody somewhere decided they had to impress somebody. Holy cow! This place looks like a Neiman Marcus! If this places doesn't make Public School Architectural Digest, I'm canceling my subscription.

When there's an exclamation point at the end of a no trespassing sign, it's understood among Brazosport residents that violators may be shot on sight, depending on what phase the moon is in. Yeah, we're talking to YOU. STAY OUT!

Demolition of the old Lake Jackson Intermediate School began in earnest this week while the finishing touches are being put on the new school, located right next door where two Little League fields once stood. I wonder if the kids are gonna learn more stuff at a faster rate in the new facility. If they don't, well, I'm gonna be very, very irritated.

Photoblogging "Casablanca" (1942)

"What's your nationality?" "I'm a drunkard."

"I remember every detail. The Germans wore gray. You wore blue."

"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."

"I blow with the wind, and the prevailing wind happens to blow from Vichy."

"Have you tried 22 tonight?"

"I wouldn't bring up Paris. It's poor salesmanship."

"Go ahead and shoot. You'll be doing me a favor."

"I don't know what's right any longer. You'll have to think for both of us, for all us us." "Alright."

"Here's looking at you, kid."

"Ricky, I'm going to miss you. You're the only person in Casablanca with even less scruples than I."

"Remember, this gun is pointed right at your heart." "That's my least vulnerable spot."

"What about us?"

"We'll always have Paris."

Welcome to the fight, indeed.

Ka-pow

"Major Strasser has been shot. Round up the usual suspects."

"Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautful friendship."

"Six Chairs In A Yellow Dining Room"

"Six Chairs in a Yellow Dining Room"

Bird's nest on the ground

The nest's former location, lodged between a drainpipe and Jake and Bubby's house, was too high to reach even with a ladder, so replacing it in its former location was out of the question. Besides, one of the two surviving chicks kept crawling out of the nest, so it didn't seem like a viable option. I brought over a cardboard box in which to put the nest. Here, Bubby, Jake's younger brother, is holding a worm in his hand, which he hoped to feed to one of the chicks. I told Jake the Mama Bird usually eats what it catches, then regurgitates it into the mouths of its chicks, so he might have to do that. He looked at me as if I was insane. Then Jake and a I laughed, letting him in on the joke.

I told Jake he could feed the birds with an eye-dropper. The best he could do was a turkey baster. It seems to work. The birds took the nourishment. I hope milk won't kill baby birds, cause that's what Jake gave them.

Two of the baby birds died. One of them was snatched from the mouth of Jake's beagle, Sophie, by Jake. Too late. As Jake described it, "Its guts were sticking out." He buried that one and another one who perished. Here are the two survivors. One appears to be much stronger than the other.

The nest was larger than I expected. It contained a healthy completement of cigarette filters. Also, used to build the nest was grass, moss and bits of plastic. I don't know what kind of birds these are. Since it's a pretty large nest, I guess they aren't sparrows.

My Back Pages, Galveston edition

Driving onto Galveston Island via the San Luis Pass Bridge (which no longer charges a toll), there is construction going on everywhere. It's rather startling if you haven't been on west Galveston Island in a while.

This is part of the construction site for Sunset Cove, a big master-planned community going up on the bay side of West Galveston Island. They're bringing in tons and tons of fill to raise the grade. Probably a good idea as the bay side of the island always floods before the seaward side.

Looking toward the mainland, that's West Bay in the background. There's building everywhere on the isle's far west end.

Cows still graze on some parts of the west Galveston Island, but the land is so valuable that scenes like this likely won't be around a whole lot longer.

Real big kites are sold in Galveston. You always see 'em when they're for sale, but you never see 'em anywhere else.

Looking west from the end of the seawall, there's some more of that pesky seaweed on the beach. But where the sunbathers are lolling, it's been cleaned up, which is always smart if you want to encourage beachgoers to visit.

At the farthest west end of the seawall, a couple of gals take in the Gulf of Mexico. No matter the time of day or night, there's always someone somewhere on the seawall thinking about something. You see a lot of soon-to-be-history lovers sitting on the seawall making the final break, my cousin, the singer-songwriter Richard Dobson, a former island resident, once told me. I guess he's right. I've never seen any polling research on this topic.

A tanker moves up the ship channel.

All about Fort Point/Fort San Jacinto.

The far east end of the Seawall is a good spot to watch the ship traffic move up the Galveston ship channel, and take note of the latest efforts of the ubiquitous spray paint maniacs.

Not sure if this means Jesus is performing live in Galveston, or that he live(s).

I include this photo of the Sandpiper Motel only because I have a story about it. I went there once to interview the singer/public offidity known as Tiny Tim, who is now deceased. He had a gig in Galveston. I went to his room. We chatted awhile. And he made a pass at me. I wrapped up the interview, excused myself, and skedaddled as fast as I could. And I didn't write a newspaper story about Tiny. I mean, what can you say about Tiny Tim making a pass at you, other than, you're not gonna believe this shit, but Tiny Tim made a pass at me. Pretty sure the newspaper editors would have passed on that story.

The Bishop's Palace. Open for tours. Worth the price of admission, in my opinion, if you like house museum-type stuff.

Tourists crossing The Strand.

The East End Historical District is full of lovely old Victorian homes that have been restored to their previous grandeur. This is not one of them.

This is a Mardis Gras arch that stays up year-round by the Tremont Hotel. Maris Gras is celebrated annually in February. Parades, bead-tossing, breast-baring, mass public intoxication, unbearably huge crowds and so forth occur. The local government authorities lose money every year on the event. A lot of the locals stay away it's gotten to be so big and messy. Still, they will do it again next year.

The Galveston County Courthouse. There's more lying going on inside that building than outside. That's what the local islanders say.

If you're an architecture buff, there are lots of old restored buildings in downtown Galveston to ogle.

The Stewart Title Building is one of the more attractive old buildings in downtown Galveston.

If you ever have an hour or two to kill in downtown Galveston, consider a visit to Col. Bubbie's Strand Surplus Senter. All sorts of military surplus gear is sold.

I bought this house on Avenue P near 29th Street and lived in it 3 or 4 years. The paint's peeling now. I rode out Hurricane Alicia in this dwelling. Only had a couple broken windows, but boy did this place creak and you should have heard the mice squeaking when the storm blew through. That hurricane killed 22 people but nobody died in Galveston. All the deaths were in Houston and elsewhere on the Mainland.

There's a row of apartments above this little shopping center on the Seawall near 45th Street. I lived up there for a couple years. One night, the police, using ladders, got up on the big common deck above the stores and raided my neighbor's apartment. Turns out he was a coke dealer! The guy was a condo time-share salesman for his day job. I slept through the whole raid. The guy was a real jackass. I never got to know him, nor wanted to.

Here on 45th Street once stood the Galveston Bureau of The Houston Post newspaper. It was a one-room office. Big enough to park one, but not two, Volkswagen Beetles. Other offices in the building were occupied by a local insurance agency, the American Cancer Society and a diet doctor. As a reporter for The Post, my office had no windows, cheap wood paneling and a common wall with The Boys Club's TV room. I could hear the lads rough-housing next door regularly, slamming into the wall. At least, I think that's all they were doing -- rough-housing that is. As you can see here, the building is now occupied by the Island Driving School. I peeked in my old office. It's a storage room full of junk.

Gaido's is a famous (for Galveston) restaurant located on the Seawall. A island friend of mine told me recently Landry's, the publicly traded restaurant chain, tried to buy it but the Gaido family declined.

We happened upon a woman in a white dress who was having some photos made out on the end of his pier. I asked if her she had just gotten married and she said, "not yet," so apparently this was a pre-wedding photo shoot. It was so hot, I'm afraid her make-up was running, poor thing.

Death in the Afternoon, otherwise known as Shopping

If you don't like to shop, like me, you can always be enticed to tag along with the promise of a post-shopping Tex-Mex meal at the original Pappasito's on Richmond. Well ... OK.

Galleria skylight.

Never underestimate the rejuvenative effects of a strawberry & creme drink from Starbucks. Ridiculously overpriced? Yes. But like Mama always said, "You can't take it with you, baby."

The sales pitch comes in many shapes and sizes. And always remember, COFFEE IS FOR CLOSERS.

Could this somehow be construed as a political statement? Are we all sheep? Waiting to be sheared? Naahhh. It's all about Burberry, stupid.

Sharp-dressed dummies? Or alien life forms sent to observe us? I can't decide.

Amazing. A business empire that all began with a mouse cartoon.

It's important to begin indoctrinating the young at a very early age in the art of consumerism. Otherwise, the whole system eventually will collapse like a cheap suitcase, and then chaos will reign.

Et tu, Brute? Come here often? Speaka the English?

Jewelry for sale. Bobbles, bangles. Ridiculous bobbles, bangles. They should have street musicians in here. Playing for drinks and tips.

This young lady showed all the earmarks of being in "the zone" during her session on the ice. It helps to be entirely UNselfconscious, I firmly believe.

Tara Lipinski sometimes works out on the Galleria ice skating rink. She wasn't there on this day.

It beats jogging.

Tiny dancers on the ice.

When you run a business that caters to the public, you never can been too careful. I'm surprised this sign in the Galleria's garage wasn't in Spanish. Someone better contact Risk Analysis.

Bill Murray: golfer/actor

A nicely framed shot from the movie "Lost In Translation."

Oh, Brazosport!

When you get up cheek-to-jowl with it all, you can't help but ask, what's it all about, Alfie?

The Gulf of Mexico is a mere 30 seconds away, 60 seconds tops, from where this photo was taken.

A bit foreboding, as if the Creator herself is about to raise some Heck.

From the Surfside Bridge, through my windshield, looking up Highway 332, it was a pleasant evening.

This photo was taken from the Surfside Bridge. I liked the way the clouds looked.

That's a Dow Chemical canal in the foreground. Yes, there are fish in it, according to sources. Pretty big 'uns, too.

The marshlands are where life begins. That's what they say anyway.

A tanker docked at Dow.

Sometimes there are fisherman tossing casting nets into these waters, gathering bait fish for bigger game elsewhere. There also are several fine bait shops along Highway 32 on the way to Surfside that are ready to satisfy all your bait needs.

I think Dow Chemical could use this picture to show how environmentally conscious it is. Whether that's true or not, I have no idea.

Celebrity art @ Luigi's in Harrisonburg, VA

Sid Vicious (I think).

Hugh Grant.

Charles Barkley.

George Carlin.

James Brown.

Snoop Dogg.

Janis Joplin.

David Crosby.

Jim Morrison.

Road Trip: Tx 2 Va

Hitchhiker in Georgia.

A boat being pulled down I-10 in Louisiana.

A sign in Picayune, Miss.

Darth Vader peeking over the roof at a Burger King in Louisiana.

A boat being pulled down Interstate 81.

An autographed Earl Campbell Houston Oiler jersey was for sale in a sports shop in Harrisonburg, Va. I couldn't make out the price and the shop was closed.

A couple of skateboarders on the campus of James Madison University in Harrisonburg, Va.

These Harley riders were on the way to the annual Rolling Thunder parade of vets in Washington, D.C., after a refreshing overnight stay at the Motel 6 in Harrisonburg, Va.

Art in the form of newspapers, dianthus, wire and wood on the campus of James Madison University in Harrisonburg, Va.

Art in the form of welded steel on the campus of James Madison University in Harrisonburg, Va.

A rainy late afternoon in southwestern Virginia.

Roadside wildflowers in Tennessee.

The Atchafalaya River Basin in Louisiana, as seen from Interstate 10.

A leafy residential neighborhood in Harrisonburg, Va., close to the campus of James Madison University.

I caught the Keebler Elf parked behind a nondescript, cheap motel one night. The rascal apparently slips into town late at night, does his business, then dispappears into the predawn darkness, all to bring you the goodness of fine Keebler Elf products.