Glimmers of Hope

So - haven't had the chance to see any movies in the theater for the last few days, because I made a little run to the G. My last trip down was about six weeks ago, and there has been much improvement since then. There is still so much to do, but in general, the city is showing signs of rebirth. Even the grass is green, and the foliage is reviving. Businesses are resuming operations and there are more people hustling and bustling about.

The weather was very nice on Saturday - the Seawall was crowded with people on outside decks of restaurants - and there were people on the beaches, some even swimming. Sand is being trucked in to build up the beach fronts.

I've been reading a couple of books about Galveston history, and I have learned that the G has faced many calamities in its history. It keeps coming back, because Galvestonians are a very determined and resilient bunch. My SIL pointed out that the residents were really mad about not being allowed back on the island after Ike, because they wanted to get busy putting things right and minimizing the damage caused by damp, closed up houses after a flood. The G-ites were ready to get back to business as usual, and it appears that things are definitely heading that way.

The house in the picture is a symbol of the resolve of the people. Yes, there is a blue tarp on part of the roof, but it is fully decorated for the holidays.

Rock on Galveston...Rock on!

MK out.

Merry Christmas and More Memories

We always wait until Christmas Eve, right before bedtime, to set out the presents. I think that tradition was in place before the Husb and I married. It's really a good practice, because I remember when my brother and I were little - We perfected the art of present peeking. We were so good, the packages never appeared as if they had been opened and resealed. The bad thing about that, of course, was that we knew what we were getting; so, Christmas morning was rather anticlimactic. What choice did we have, though. My mother would set out presents a couple of weeks before Christmas. Did she really like torturing us that way? I really don't think that she did it maliciously. I think she was oblivious to our plight.

When I got older, I would help my mother wrap the presents - even my own. The worst part was not telling my brother what he was getting. I would wrap things in different boxes from that in which they came. Just because I wasn't going to be surprised was not reason enough to ruin it for my little brother - even if he did tease me for being a geek or even if he would hit me for no good reason.

Remember how I told y'all that Australia deserved a Best Picture nomination? Well, I recently saw another movie that was even more worthy - Slumdog Millionaire. An Indian boy gets on the Indian equivalent of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire and reaches the next to the last level knowing all the answers - all due to prior experiences he's had. You have to see it. I loved this movie.

Merry Christmas, Y'all.

MK out.

Christmas Memories

When I was in 9th grade, I had this little boyfriend who was in 9th grade too. He gave me a little trinket for Christmas - I think it was a pendant necklace - that his mother made. It was really sweet. I wonder what ever happened to it, but I digress...

The Christmas wasn't the memorable thing about it, but it was the only time I had a boyfriend at Christmas time, before I met Jim, and we started dating on New Year's and we were married by the next Christmas.Anyway, this 9th grade boy and I would talk on the phone for hours - unbeknownst to my father, who would have killed me on the spot. I wasn't allowed to have a boyfriend. On New Year's Eve, this boy showed up with a friend on my doorstep. My dad answered the door, and when they asked for me, he sent them away. I got in trouble for them coming over, and I had not invited them, nor had I known that they were coming.

In February, his family learned that they were being transferred to a different base. His father was in the Coast Guard. His mother took us to lunch the day before they left. We had open campus for lunch, and since neither of us were old enough to drive, his mom was our chauffer and paid for our "date." We went to the Emporium on The Strand and had subway sandwiches. I will never forget that.

I saw him only once after that when I was in college. I suppose it was my freshman year. He was working on the construction crew that was enlarging the football stadium on campus. I don't know how he had tracked me down, but I came home from class one afternoon, and there he was in my dorm room. We walked around campus a little and talked. That was the last time I ever saw him. I wonder whatever happened to him.

And now, I will leave you with a few movie reviews:

How the Garcia Girls Spent Their Summer, starring Elizabeth Pena, America Ferrara and Lucy Garrado, was an interesting tale about three generations of hot, Latin women and their romantic exploits. It was alright.
In Married Life, Chris Cooper plays a man who plans to kill his wife (Patricia Clarkson), to spare her the humiliation of finding out about his affair with Rachel Adams. Pierce Brosnan plays his best friend. It was pretty good.
War, Inc. is about an assassin (John Cusack), who is hired to kill a Middle Eastern oil magnate while spinning a very elaborate cover. Hillary Duff, Marisa Tomei, Dan Akroyd, Ben Kingsley and the ever-present-in-a-John Cusack-flick-but-would-totally-be-missed-otherwise Joan Cusack also star. It was interesting and entertaining.
Kung Fu Panda is an animated adventure involving an out of shape panda, who is chosen to protect the village from a powerful enemy with his Kung Fu abilities. It was cute.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

MK out.

Tales of the G - Part 3

It appears that debris from the back of the house (the bayside) was pushed to the front and is coming out through the garage.

















Blue tarps cover some roofs with beautiful blue sky in the background.



















What is left of Murdoch's Pier stands defiantly alone .






















I was so startled by the boats on the side of the causeway coming into town, that I did not snap any pics...

















...But I was ready on the way out of town.





















The little time I spent there was enough to put me into a depressed state. The words "my Galveston is gone," kept going through my mind. Not that I ever expected it to stay forever the Galveston in which I grew up and always remember. And likely, the post-Ike Galveston will emerge better than the one before.



By rights, no one should ever have been allowed to live on Galveston, as it is a barrier island - but too late now...People have built on it and have lived full, colorful lives. The ghosts of many adventures roam the island, and now, more spectors will settle there.



One ironic thing I noticed while surveying the damage - the water looked beautiful. It was as if it was trying to deny its culpability in the devastation.



Another ironic thing I saw were the "help wanted" and "now hiring" signs in front of the restaurants on the Seawall that are open. The island is crowded with workers and the only places to eat are feeling the effects of a town missing two-thirds of its population.



It remains to be seen how the island will bounce back, but bounce back it will. The people of Galveston are a hardy stock. There are families that have been there for generations. My only concern is the fate of the medical school. There are rumors that the State will use the damage from the hurricane as the excuse it needed to close the school. I seriously doubt that, but I am worried about how much will be eliminated from the facility. Something interesting to see was the legions of workers that were being bussed in to clean out the buildings at UTMB. There were big lines and groups of people wearing white jumpsuits and masks traipsing into the hospitals. It looked rather sci-fi.



I don't know when I will be able to go down there again, but hopefully next time, I will see more signs of life.



MK out.

Tales of the G - Part 2

The Flagship hotel sustained a little damage.













The driveway onto the pier to get to the Flagship is gone.












Best sign I saw.












Belongings put in the yard to dry.













Debris mountain at one of the transfer stations.

MK out.

Tales from the G

It has taken a while for me to process what is depicted in these images. Overall, the island looks sad and dirty - but amongst the anguish and devastation, there are glimmers of hope. There is debris everywhere one looks, but some streets and neighborhoods have more than others.

Harbor View and parts of Fish Village look like a bomb went off. It's earily quiet, with few people around. There are several boats in slips at the Yacht Basin, but the once full-on-weekends parking lot is empty. The boat storage warehouse that burned during the height of the storm is a mangled and charred mess.


The grass is dead in this yard, littered with debris.
























This street looks very sad.























This pile, in front of a stately home in one of the finer neighborhoods contains ruined furniture, mattresses, soggy sheetrock and the like.


















This stump is left from a tree that was almost blown over during the storm. The root system is exposed.
















Ruined merchandise and shop furniture from a business out by the curb.











MK out.

Burial Dress Watch, Day Six

The burial dress is safe and sound. My SIL was able to get onto the G today and she went to my momma's house. Not a drop of water had gotten in the house or in the garage. The electricity was working and the refrigerator was cold inside. I am also happy to report that the tea cookies my momma made the last time we were on the G for her after burial party (I cannot make this stuff up), although defrosted during the storm, were frozen once again. They are standing ready awaiting their call to action.

Y'all can rest easy now.

Good news for sure. I am so thankful and feel the need to pay it forward/give back - whatever you want to call it.

The Rosenberg Public Library holds a near and dear place in my heart. We didn't have a lot of extras when I was growing up, but we managed. I have always been a voracious reader...from the time Mrs. Stein taught me how to read in kindergarten - to this day, although most of my reading these days happens in spurts. A library card did not cost a penny; so, I had one and I used it liberally. Once, during a fight that I had with my brother, I hurled out the words: "Books are my friends!!!" As if that statement would make me seem less nerdy in a heated discussion that centered around his claims that I was basically a stay-at-home nerd.

The Library held all manner of programs that were free of charge. I remember one time, Michael Guckian invited me to join him and his mother (we were in middle school at the time) to attend a performance of selected scenes of one of Henry David Thoreau's works.

Some of my best afternoons were spent upstairs where the periodicals were kept - researching the subject of the week in Mrs. Robert's English Comp class when I was a senior in high school. I would pass the children's sections on the first floor on my way upstairs and think to myself that when I had children, I would bring them to the library and hopefully cultivate the love of books in them.

I was quite saddened to read that the children's collections at the Rosenberg Public Library were lost in the hurricane. The first floor flooded and everything got wet. I think I have identified one way to give back in this tragedy...I will become a friend to the Rosenberg Public Library.

MK out.

More Degrees of Thia Maria

For those of us who were lucky enough to know Thia Maria, we'd all agree that she was a force of nature - and not at all in a bad way. She was very active in the community and our church. She was also a businesswoman. Thia Maria owned the knit shop on the G. She taught me how to knit when I was about 6 or 7. When I was about 11, she would have Theo Demas pick me up on his way home from his half day at "The Wharf" on Saturdays and bring me to the shop. I would answer the phone, help restock, bag yarny purchases and generally breathe in all the yarn fumes. Then, more often than not, I would get to go home with her after the last customer would rush over, fresh from a game of Mah Jong, to get her fix of yarn to last her for the weekend. Frequently, I would get to spend the night. We would stay up late, long after Theo Demas had gone to bed, watching old movies and knitting or needlepointing.

Thia Maria's four kids are a few years or so older than me. When the first grandchild came along, it was my biggest delight when her parents would bring Stephanie over to visit her grandparents while I was there. Then came Stephanie's little brother, whom everyone called Baby Demo. (He was named after his grandfather.) To this day, people call him Baby or Little Demo. In fact, he just got married in June. When I got to the church, there he was standing in the back and it caught me by surprise. (I don't know why it would. Afterall, I was there to witness his nuptials, and his attendance would be expected.) "Baby Demo!" I exclaimed and gave him a big kiss before I helped my momma to our seats. Anyway, two more grandchildren came along - Angie and Marika - and both joined their cousins in being my baby dolls.

Stephanie and her husband live on the G. Her husband is an ER physician at UTMB. Stephanie and their two children evacuated, but B had to stay behind - although the hospitals were evacuated of patients and to date, are not officially open for business, as only a portion of the main hospital is running on generator power. Still, because some people chose to stay, and there are many people there in official capacities, there are plenty of minor emergencies that are being addressed tirelessly by B and his crew.

I spoke to Stephanie today for the first time since the storm. I had heard from my brother that her home was hit hard in the hurricane, and she directed me to a website with pictorial evidence. It is not pretty and my heart goes out to Stephanie and B. The power of that wind and storm surge was beyond belief. The hurricane-grade windows and doors were blown off with the framing. One wall is only studs.

The devastation in Galveston is very hit and miss. We are hearing more and more encouraging news about my momma's house. She lives hear the Yacht Basin. Friends that live on the water near the Yacht Basin and about a mile from my momma's house reportedly had five feet of water. Other friends who live two streets closer to the Yacht Basin from her had about an inch of water in their house. Stephanie informed me that my momma's neighbors, across the street and two houses down from her had no water in their home. My SIL told me that George, Stephanie's uncle, went by my momma's house today and as far as he could tell from the outside, he didn't think any water had gotten into her house. We continue to hope for the best and prepare for the worst, until someone actually gets into the house and knows for sure - but things look hopeful. I hope to speak with George myself tomorrow. I have to thank him for checking on the house, and to find out how his home fared.

Keep those thoughts and prayers coming for all the people touched by the storm.

MK out.

Nero Fiddled While Rome Burned

Not knowing the status of my momma's home is enough to wear out a body. Yesterday, the Galveston city officials allowed people who owned businesses on the island to "look and leave." Essentially, they were to check out their business, safeguard a few things, and leave before the curfew started. Unfortunately, the volume of returnees was not considered. Recovery workers were stuck in traffic jams and could not get on the island on a timely basis. The residents were supposed to be allowed to return for a "look and leave" today, but it was cancelled last night, after yesterday's overwhelming response.

My SIL was able to get on the island yesterday. She rescued her cats and was reassured to find that, while water had gotten into her garage, none had gotten into her home. We still do not know how much water damage my momma's house sustained, but we do know that it is still standing.

Amid all this uncertainty, I have managed to stay caught up with work, and am getting pesky little chores done around the house.

I've also been to a few movies...

Transsiberian is a pretty good thriller set on a train crossing through Siberia – how original! Ben Kingsley (another movie with Ben!), Woody Harrelson and Emily Mortimer star in this film about an American couple riding on the train and who and befriend this other couple. Then, when Woody’s character accidentally gets left off the train during a stop, all kinds of sinister stuff starts to happen. It was good.

Bottle Shock is based on the true story of a contest in France between French and Californian wineries that put California wines on the map. Alan Rickman, Bill Pullman and Dennis Farina all star in this cute little movie.

The Women is a remake of the 1939 classic screen adaptation of Clare Booth Luce’s play about some society women friends who spend their time going to the beauty shop and to fashion shows, until they find out that one of them has a cheating husband. It's been updated a little to reflect that, even at the high society level, women can choose to work, to raise a family or to do both. Eva Mendez is no Joan Crawford, but she does a decent job as the home wrecker. It also stars Meg Ryan, Annette Bening, Debra Messing, Jada Pinkett Smith, Candice Bergen and a small, but big role by Bette Midler. It was cute, cute, cute…

Burn After Reading is not one of the Coen Brothers’ best efforts. Of course, it’s hard to top Fargo and O Brother Where Art Thou. Despite the movie's cynical little tone, Frances McDormand, George Clooney and Brad Pitt give great performances. They all looked like they were having a good time. Tilda Swinton is also in it. Her character is a cold, snobby bitch and I would guess that she had fun playing that role. Then, there's John Malkovich...It was good, but it could have been better.

Before a couple of the movies I've seen recently, a montage starts playing, and it is unclear - the first time one sees it - whether it is a preview or a commercial. Beautiful scenes and thought provoking images appear, and a voice-over discusses "the journey." This question is posed:
Does the person create the journey, or does the journey create the person?

Um...It's a Louis Vuitton ad.

Please....

MK out.

Riding Out the Storm

Back in the day, hurricanes were a source of entertainment. Well, not the hurricanes themselves, but the opportunity for getting together with people to ride out the storm.

My mother's best friend, whom I called Thia Maria, lived with her husband in a big house on the "west end" of Galveston. We lived on the "east end." My father, being in the merchant marines, shipped out quite regularly, and Thia Maria took us under her wing. We were included in all manner of holidays and celebrations. Gloom and danger from impending hurricanes were no exception. Theo Demas, her husband, was dispatched by Thia Maria to swing by on his way home from "The Wharf," to pick us up and bring us to their house. One year, I remember, my brother and I were so sad that my mother declared that our cat would be left behind in our house. We got to Thia Maria's and spent the afternoon lamenting our problem until Theo Demas was dispatched to our house with one of us to gather the cat and bring him to the safety of the house on Denver. Nevermind the fact that, if Galveston had been hit by a big one, the chances were that none of us would have survived, let alone the cat.

In my recollection, before this weekend, there were only two really bad hurricanes that hit Galveston. I don't remember Carla, (I was about 2) but anyone can read about that storm. The next one was Alicia, and I was out of college and had just moved to Dallas at the time, living the high life of a bachelorette. Woo hoo. So, luckily for us, all those hurricane parties at Thia Maria's turned out to be alot of wind and rain, a few trees down here and there, the normal flooding of the usual spots on the island and no loss of life.

Enter Hurricane Ike. The local CBS affiliate in Houston, KHOU-TV, has been broadcasting continuously on the Weather Channel since yesterday. The dangerous thing about Ike has been its size and the size of the storm surge it has been pushing ahead of it. There was some flooding way down the island by yesterday morning, before the wind and rain actual made it. The eye of the storm didn't hit Galveston until 2:00 this morning. Right now, the stupid thing is passing over Huntsville. The outer bands of the storm are still dumping water on Galveston.

The media is a two-edged sword. While they are masters at creating hype and frenzy, with the technology we have today, they do disseminate a few valuable facts here and there. Despite all the tracking equipment, projections from meteorologists and warnings from city officials that rescue would be difficult at best and likely nonexistent during the height of the storm, there were quite a few people who chose to stay behind.

My mother still has a house down there. I've shared this tidbit by e-mail to a few friends: She does not care that her house might have been destroyed. She's worried that she has left her burial dress down there hanging in the closet. (Oh yeah, that's the first thing I would pack when I'm getting ready to go anywhere.)

Hope you are yours are safe and dry.

MK out.