Month: March 2017

  • Bright Lights, Big City


     

    New Orleans downtown – amazing architecture

    Colorful flags everywhere!

    Signs of the season

    Pretty loves what? Art galleries – Shopping!

    Looking down Royal Street

    Lunch with famous blogger

    The K9 Miss Harper Lee

    (and her human mommy Suzanne)

    One of The Red Man’s favorite blogging amigas was the gorgeous golden femme fatale Miss Harper Lee. Harper Lee and Red shared romantic messages in cyberspace for many years, and Slow and Pretty were delighted to meet Miss Lee and Suzanne up close and personal for lunch on their first day in NOLA. Harper Lee was the perfect hostess and the sensation of the courtyard setting in the Amelie Restaurant. Food was delicious; cocktail, wine and ice tea refreshing, but the real treat was the company. It was a perfect introduction to our visit. Miss Harper Lee rocks and rules…forever.

    Getting down to business – 

    What SAS festival author managed to sit on a slow-leaking sprinkler head in a courtyard during the Gliterati Literati cocktail reception, didn’t realize it until she was totally drenched, and then had to have Pretty walk closely behind her as they politely excused themselves? (Think the scene in Bringing up Baby when Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn made their rather awkward one-on-one exit from a swanky restaurant.)

    Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?

  • Daniel Boone? No – Daniel Pratt…


    In 1819 a twenty-year-old man from New Hampshire finished a four-year apprenticeship in architecture and heeded the words of Horace Greeley to leave his New England home and go west, young man, go west.  He ended up in Savannah, Georgia.

    Twenty years later this same man would leave his Georgia home with a wife, two slaves, enough materials to build 50 cotton gins and the knowledge necessary to run a plant that manufactured them. His name was Daniel Pratt.

    We stayed last night in the town Daniel created for the workers in his cotton gin plant: Prattville, Alabama. Pretty took us on a tour of the historic downtown area this morning. We love an historic downtown area – particularly one as beautiful as this one. Imagine what this looked like in 1839 – before the Civil War – one man’s dream.

    Daniel Pratt was one of Alabama’s first industrialists

    Daniel has his own personal historic district now

    My friend had a bird’s eye view of the falls

    …and sat on the remnants of history

    Guess who else was from Prattville besides Daniel Pratt?

    Mustang Sally Wilson Pickett, Jr.

    Had to say goodbye to the wisteria and Prattville

    On the road again – Charly perches atop Yeti cooler

    Getting closer…

    Rest area, my you-know-what

    I am so tired. Please, God, get me out of this vehicle.

    Spike’s prayers were answered…we have stopped for the night in Slidell, Louisiana, which is 30 miles from New Orleans.

    We are sneaking up on it.

  • Do You Know the Way to…Tuskegee?


    The trip between Atlanta, Georgia and Montgomery, Alabama on I-85 is one Pretty and I have made at least a gazillion times in our years of wandering back and forth between Texas and South Carolina. We have our favorite welcome centers, rest areas, cheap gas prices with freshest candy bars convenience stores, and I am always impressed when Pretty remembers the exact location of a Zoe’s restaurant in every town that has one.

    Between Auburn and Montgomery, however, there is a road sign we always pass that says Tuskegee Airmen National Historic Site next exit. The conversation usually goes Hey, we need to see that, but we don’t have time. We’ll do it later.

    “Later” finally showed up yesterday on our trip to New Orleans.

    During WWII more than 10,000 African-American men and women worked at Moton Field to train military aviators, both pilots and bombers, for the war. The military at that time was still racially segregated, but patriotism was not.

    Pretty, Spike and Charly survey Moton field

    The dogs and I sent Pretty to tour the actual hangars and bring us up to date on the history, so she gets credit for the interior photos.

    Red Tails the nickname for Tuskegee fighters

    The airmen were educated in town at what was then known as the Tuskegee Institute and transported by bus every day to Moton Field which is a few miles from downtown. We followed that route from the National Historical Site to have a look at Tuskegee University today.

    Also a National Historic Site –

    started by Booker T. Washington

    Where modern architecture of today’s campus…

    …meets history around the corner at

    Booker T. Washington’s home

    The gates of learning still open wide

    to preserve the rich heritage

     of the historically black university that is Tuskegee

  • Saints and Sinners Festival in NOLA


    Saints and Sinners Literary Festival, here we come – this week. Unbelievable. I submitted my short story last summer with low expectations of winning the Tennessee Williams Fiction Prize because I have never been recognized as a fiction writer, but lo and behold, my story The Gods are Stacked against Us became a finalist in the contest which meant it will be included in the SAS Anthology for 2017 which, in turn, meant an invitation to read at the festival this month.

    So Pretty and I will be off to New Orleans like a herd of turtles in a matter of days. What an odd time to leave in the middle of moving out of Casa de Canterbury to Casa de Cardinal, someone might think (and someone would be correct). The vicissitudes of life aren’t always coordinated properly, as my daddy used to say when he waxed eloquently about them, and he should have known that if anyone did since he died right in the middle of them at age 51.

    I will participate with four other writers on a panel called Home is Where the Art Is, or Is It?  to discuss the impact our homes have on our work…I’m really looking forward to talking about the importance of time and place to me in my work. Plus, I’ll have an opportunity to read an excerpt from my short story during a reading session along with eight other finalists.

    The festival brings together leading poets, authors and other literati notables in the LGBTQ community – I recognize many of their names and writing from years of reading and adulation and will now have the opportunity to meet and greet them over cocktails and heavy hors d’oeuvres on Bourbon Street Friday evening.

    I’m trying to prepare myself to talk about literary things without sounding too “un-literary.”  Let’s see…

    Where did you study writing, and how does that affect your writing style?

    That’s a tough one. I’ve had two writing classes. The first was a business communications class at UT Austin in 1966 that focused on how to write a good business letter with an emphasis on brevity – say more with less was the mantra. Be direct – no adverbs, a few adjectives here and there, but mostly noun, verb combo and a simple Dear Sir or Madam beginning with a Sincerely yours ending. Cut and dry. No horsing around. No nonsense.

    My second writing class was in 2006 at Midlands Technical College for a six-week Monday-night adult learning class that focused on the basic elements of fiction writing. My accomplishment was a story I called Payday Someday which turned out to be the first chapter of my first book Deep in the Heart. Nonfiction actually, but hey, nothing’s perfect.

    Hm. I think I’ll skip that question and move on to Why do you write?

    I write because I can’t keep myself from writing. I write because I can speak for those who have no voice and continue the fight for fairness and respect I’ve always believed in. I write because Pretty, my Aunt Lucille and a host of people, some known, some unknown love to read what I write. I write because I hope, along with many other aging Baby Boomers,  to have a legacy – that my words will survive me.

    Okay. Way too heavy for cocktail party conversation. Skip that one, too.

    Let’s try Hi how are you? Where are you from?

    Now that’s a complicated question. I was born and raised in rural Grimes County, Texas…

    Eyes are rolling. People walking away. Clearly small talk not my strength.

    Pretty, can I get you another diet coke??