I knew a lady who had a pet deer. In her house. Watching tv. She also had a raccoon walking around. I knew a guy who kept his tarantula in his truck at night so that no one would steal the truck. My aunt had a bobcat. When I was about four, the big cat stalked me slowly across the room, jumped on my head and attacked. I knew a guy who had hissing cockroaches the size of rats as pets, and a lady with aquariums full of highly poisonous rattlesnakes in her bedroom. She also had a fat black scorpion with claws like a crab. Our neighbor had a nutria (sort of a water rat with scary orange teeth), a tortoise that must have been ancient, and a cotton mouth snake that got out of its cage and was found days later on the curtain rod. I knew a lady who had a wolf in her fenced backyard. It was massive with Little Red Riding Hood teeth the size of a roll of lifesavers, sniffing nervously at us while we smoked cigarettes. She kept saying “Don’t look at it. Don’t look at it. Don’t make any sudden movements.” A lady down the street had a little dingo. My cousin had a squirrel that rode around on his shoulder. And one of my friends had a mean screeching little monkey. I loved that pissed off monkey. So… I was looking at La Wheeze sleeping on a pillow and wondering if she wants to be released into the wild.

Eh, prolly not.

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For Mother’s Day, I went to a tour of homes in the historic district where I live. All ALONE. I lost my best fag buddy a few years back and need a new sidekick who appreciates the same things that I do.

My city has a fascinating past, but Dallas has always been a prosperous place that grew sprawling after the buck, never to look back. With our slick glass and steel skyline, the city of Dallas does have big, big style, but we very little sense of history and few conservation efforts. I had to do some searching online to read about the early boom years in Dallas.

The jewels that have survived time are the historic district where I live, and Fair Park, the largest collection of Art Deco period buildings in the US which were constructed for the Texas Centennial Exposition. Those crumbling architectural gems were going to be razed in the 70’s, but they are all museums now. I read on the internet about how one determined lady got her friends and neighbors together to save Swiss Avenue and Fair Park both. I thought that was amazing.

So… on Mother’s Day, I was standing on this gray-haired lady’s biggo Craftsman porch as she addressed the folks who were about to tour her beautiful home. She spoke about how Swiss Avenue — the oldest, finest street in all of Dallas — was once derelict and how she and some of the neighbors banded together to make changes in the late 60’s. As the crowd starting moving inside, I approached her and said, “Yanno, I read about this lady who lead the effort to save both this historic district and Fair Park. Did you know her?” She said with a smile, “Why yes, actually that was me.”

She was tickled. I was tickled. I thanked her for what she had managed to accomplish, and we rattled on architecture until we were both a little embarrassed that we liked one another so much.

Anyways, small world, huh?

Why do I love old buildings so much? History grounds me. Who would dare take a wrecking ball to a staircase that took a talented man a year to carve from an extraordinary tree that gave its life? I think of the craftsmen and artisans, and how much pride they must have taken. There are few craftsmen anymore, only contractors and laborers who rarely have the chance to create such beauty, only appreciate what has survived of the bygone. Beauty is not about money because I believe you can never really own something that was meant survive you.

Here are beautiful homes I toured. Hard to believe when the old area of Dallas fell from favor, most of these grand dames became boarding houses with toilets in every closet, and many were condemned, abandoned, and slated to be demolished.

And here is the old Fair Park Livestock Coliseum which now houses The Women’s Museum, a real treasure for all. The art deco female figure is original to the building. Every building in Fair Park is a National Historic Landmark, as it should be.

I am glad I got to thank you for saving these, lady. And it was a pleasure to meetcha.

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I see Butch-Femme.com is FUCKING UP again this morning. I fear our little hometown has outgrown the server capacity… yet again.

I am up before the sun this AM. I have had a sinus headache for about… oh, ten years now. They are going to drill my skull soon to fix it. Joy. I need to quit smoking before the surgery, but I admit I just crushed out my fourth Marlboro of the morning. While I make my to-do lists, all my jones steal the better of me.

N-E-wayz…

I was in a smoky dive the other night checking out the Dallas poetry slam championship. Christine and Gee thought the work presented was mostly Velveeta flavored, but I thought it was mostly great. There was a time when my own pen sang for its supper, but now I am old and well-fed. LOL I value those creative souls who will sit alone - think - scribble - cross-out - try to find the intensity of language… and then have the courage to emote penned lines as if the words were absolute truth.

Oblivious to eyes rolling in the audience, several white male poets chose to wax about the plight of black folk in America. One uptight lookin’ wordsmith in very conservative office-wear steadied himself with a dignified pose, and then suddenly started hollering into the mic about EATIN’ AAAAAAAASS. (!) Good lord. Justice mostly prevailed, however. The nerd who took the big trophy was soooo homely. (HOW HOMELY WAS HE?) When he stepped into the spotlight there were collective gasps and groans from the audience, amidst one definite swoon for our hero from his geeky girlfriend. Yes, this poor little Dilbert was well aware that he had teeth and hair shootin’ ever’ which way, but no one could deny the boy was mightee mighty. Rawk ON, thinka man.

Funny. Yanno. Chris and I share a strange culture in our life together. Spanning nearly a decade from the moment we joined hearts and minds, we have found ourselves holding our breath and striving toward something that seems vaguely pressing, but neither of us really know what that might be. I don’t mean the business we are trying to launch. I don’t mean our web site. I don’t even know what I mean. See? THAT is what I mean. Every moment we steal away from the faceless frenzy seems like time squandered.

We hang.

We hang.

We.

Hang.

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