Well, too bad I don't have photos...just memories of a very interesting, slightly weird evening of I'm not sure what at a new venue in Clear Lake called Murder by Chocolate, upstairs in a building on Egret Bay. I went to hear what I thought was going to be a poetry reading for a couple of hours. I had made myself attend after a busy day in order to support a young poet who is working really hard to create a strong poetry scene in the area. I joined my friend, John, professor of creative writing and poet extraordinaire, on the sidewalk. Bless John's heart, he is so supportive of poetry. The young host was waiting at the bottom of the stairs ready to collect our $10 cover charge. We had no change and promised we would pay after buying a cup of coffee upstairs.
At the top of the stairs we were ushered in and stood in the entry hall facing a wall with a mantel over a fake fireplace. A small button on the edge of the white mantel beckoned a push and suddenly the wall swung back creating an entry into a large room carpeted in red with round tables and high back chairs upholstered in a patterned red, all under crystal chandeliers...very Adams family decor. Cool, huh! To the immediate left was a bar with a large blackboard behind it listing all the coffee drinks and other beverages and desserts available. In cases along the bar were tempting chocolate sweets of all kinds. A cute young woman in a white blouse and blond pony tail greeted me and asked to take my order.
"A medium decaf sugar-free hazelnut latte." She repeated it minus the decaf. I stated once again "Decaf, sugar-free hazelnut latte." She began taking John's order and after we both paid, she repeated my order again. A couple of men were seated at a table and one got up to greet us...I gathered he is the manager. The barrista indicated she would bring the coffee to me. After handing the organizer our ten bucks, John and I made our way to another door where the poetry would take place. It is a giant room with big draped windows, deep red carpet and more round tables with upholstered chairs. In the middle of each table was a large hurricane glass sitting on a metallic red scarf and a large magnifying glass. In one corner was a large black man sitting at a keyboard and another sitting in the corner with a set of drums. In the opposite corner was a black man sitting behind some electrical equipment talking with another black man.
John and I settled at a table near the microphone and band and opposite a long table against the wall where a beautiful young blond had her eyes glued to a lap top. Finally someone we recognized came in...a young local poet who always dresses like one of the Blues Brothers with a hat and sunglasses. The next time I looked over he was in a passionate embrace with the blond behind the computer. I gather they know each other.
The barrista came running in the room and to our table. "Do you want whipped cream?" "Of course," I replied. She disappeared only to be replaced by two large black women and a teenage black boy in charge of a small camcorder. They appeared to be related to the band.
Whew...our poet friend, Carmen, joined us at the table. So far we three were the audience and the host kept peeking in the door as he was sweating bullets hoping more folk would show up. I felt sorry for him and was glad I made the effort.
The star of the evening, Kamara, came up and introduced himself. Very charming and explained that his show would be interactive and he would be addressing each of us. If we were uncomfortable with that, we should probably leave. We didn't move and why would we...we had paid $10 for this whatever it is.
The band started playing and a pretty slender black woman introduced herself as Lady Emerald and began the show with what might have been funny stories and jokes but she had the mike cranked up so loud that I couldn't understand what she was saying. She would address our table and I just had to nod like I knew what she was saying. Finally I leaned over to Carmen and asked if she could understand her. She said no and was relieved to learn she wasn't alone in the difficulty. Lady wanted to know if John and I were a couple. I said, "No, I'm his mother." John didn't seem too thrilled about that...he must have a more refined mother...and explained that we were poets.
Lady grandly introduced the first act...the man who had been at the back of the room. The band cranked it up a notch or two and he began to sing a gospel song all about Jesus and being saved. Oh my, it was all I could do to keep a straight face and I didn't dare look at John or Carmen. Before the next number he encouraged us to follow God, be kind to one another, etc. The man has a beautiful voice and I keep thinking he is a candidate for American Idol if he could give up the religious stuff. He obviously had been "saved", from what and for what I'm still not sure.
Lady Emerald with her crazy microphone pranced around the room telling what might have been jokes if I could have understood them. She introduced Birdman...a tall, nice-looking black man who had earlier introduced himself and showed me his poetry publications. He read a couple of poems which were commendable and a couple more from his latest book. Applause, applause and off he went with the keyboard and drums playing his exit.
Enter Lady Emerald again to do another round of non-understandable comedy relief. She introduced Zack, the passionate Blues Brothers imitator, who read on and on pages and pages of poetry that made no sense to me at all while his girl friend kept her head into the lap top. The band tried to provide a little background music for his poems but they struggled. Their wives to my left kept perfectly still as their eyes glazed over. I tried valiantly to keep the smirk off my face and look attentive with only a couple of furtive glances to my watch. Finally Zack tilted his head back, gathered up the pages he had cast to the floor and gave up the mike.
Enter Lady Emerald again but this time she must have received some feedback on the mike and I could actually understand her. But looking to my left, Carmen had disappeared and a black couple had joined the audience. I was a little jealous of Carmen's departure but determined to hear a little bit of the headliner. Lady explained that this was her debut as a stand-up comedian. Really...I never would have guessed. She told a couple of humorous stories about her mama and asked if our children had ever cooked for us. Then went on to tell about an awful cup of coffee her child had fixed for her. A strange choice I thought as we were in a coffee house and not that funny. Ah well...
About two hours into this whole program Lady brought on the star, Kamara, who is originally from New York and has a radio show somewhere. A very good looking guy, he began be going back into the history of rap and hip hop and explaining the difference and talked about the base of hip hop in poetry. He was very entertaining but by 9:30 I had had enough and left John to finish out the evening. I met Lady Emerald on the stairwell and thanked her for her performance and wished her luck. Damn, but she is going to need it. I have to wonder where in the hell did our host meet up with these folks?
I chuckled all the way home thinking about Dr. John and how many hours he has spent listening to some really bad poetry even some of mine. Bless the man.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Monday, May 21, 2012
It's only a microwave
"Thank you for calling American Home Shield. Para espanol marque nueve ahora. If you want to hear an introduction, say introduction. Otherwise stay on the line for our menu. If something in your home isn't working, say service request."
"Service request"
"What is the item that is broken?"
"Microwave."
"Please hold while we connect you with a service representative."
"This is Imran. Can I have your contract number?" (note the accent)
"918774532"
"And to whom am I speaking?"
"Kathryn Cox."
"Can you verify your home address, Mrs. Cox?"
917 Broadway, Seabrook, Texas, 77586."
"And what can I do for you today, Mrs. Cox?"
"Our microwave is making very strange noises and won't turn on."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs. Cox. What is the brand and model of the microwave?"
"Sharp and I don't know the model number. It is built in. I think it is about 8 or 9 years old."
"I see. Can you please hold while I see when a technician is available to come out?
(long pause) A technician is available Monday between 8 and 12. He will call prior to his visit. Will someone be home? "
"Yes, thank you."
April 16
Call from Sears repair service on contract to American Home Shield.
"Our technician has been delayed and will be at your home between 8 and 12 on Thursday, April 19."
April 19
Technician calls. He is on his way. Technician arrives, takes one look at the microwave, takes off interior shield which is fried and gets on his computer and phone. "I will have to order the part and I can show you how to put it on when it arrives."
"Great, that is easy enough. Thank you and when should the part arrive?"
"Within 3 to 5 days."
He climbs in his Sears truck and leaves.
April 23
Box on doorstep with new part. But alas, this shield is less than half the size of the original.
Call to American Home Shield.
"Thank you for calling American Home Shield. Para espanol marque nueve ahora. If you want to hear an introduction, say introduction. Otherwise stay on the line for our menu. If something in your home isn't working, say service request."
"Service request"
"What is the item that is broken?"
"Microwave."
"Please hold while we connect you with a service representative."
"Please remain on the line. Our representative will be with you shortly."
"This is David. May I have your contract number?" (note the accent)
"918774532"
"And to whom am I speaking?"
"Kathryn Cox."
"Can you verify your address for me, Mrs. Cox?"
"917 Broadway, Seabrook, Texas 77586"
"And what can I do for you today, Mrs. Cox?"
"A part arrived and it is way too small...less than half the size of the original."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs. Cox. What is the brand and model of the microwave?"
"Sharp and I don't know the model number."
"Can you hold while I look up your request? (Long pause) I have contacted Sears and they will send another technician out to take a look."
"Thank you."
Phone call from Sears:
"We have scheduled a technician to arrive at your home between 8 and 12 on Saturday, April 28."
April 28
Technician Robert arrives and looks at the part.
"This ain't gonna work. It is way too small." (DUH!)
Robert declines coffee and gets on his computer and on the phone with Sears parts research department.
"Mrs. Cox, this ain't even the part that was ordered. I've ordered you another part and it should be here within 3 to 5 days. Please call when the part arrives. It should be fine."
"Thank you, Robert" and I watch him climb in his Sears truck and drive away.
May 3
Box on doorstep. New part, this time in a bigger box. The part is in a box in a plastic bag, in another plastic bag and under lots of bubble wrap. I'm hopeful. Alas, this one is bigger than the last one but half the size of the orginal. I am SO frustrated and begin again.
"Thank you for calling American Home Shield. Para espanol marque nueve ahora. If you want to hear an introduction, say introduction. Otherwise stay on the line for our menu. If something in your home isn't working, say service request."
"Service request"
"What is the item that is broken?"
"Microwave."
"Please hold while we connect you with a service representative."
"This is Gloria. Can I have your contract number?"
"918774532"
"And to whom am I speaking?"
"Kathryn Cox."
"Can you verify your address for me, Mrs. Cox?"
"917 Broadway, Seabrook, Texas, 77586."
"And what can I do for you today, Mrs. Cox?"
"Another part arrived that is the wrong size."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs. Cox. What is the brand and model of the microwave?"
"Sharp and I don't know the model number. It is built in. I think it is about 8 or 9 years old. This has been going on since April 12 and I'm getting very frustrated. So far we have two wrong parts and two technicians. You could buy a new microwave for what you are spending on parts and labor."
"I am sorry for your inconvenience, Mrs. Cox. "
May 4
Answering machine: "This is Sears, please give us a call."
"This is Kathryn Cox. I'm returning your call regarding service to my microwave."
"May I have your home phone number, Mrs. Cox?"
"487 773-6945"
"And your address, Mrs. Cox?"
"419 Broadway, Seabrook, Texas, 77586"
"And what is this about?"
By now I'm beginning to lose it...."My microwave" and then proceed to recite the saga of visits and parts.
"Just a moment please while I transfer you to the research department."
(long pause...10 minutes roll by)
"This is Denise. How may I help you?"
"This is Kathryn Cox.."
"May I have your home phone number, Mrs. Cox?"
"487 773-6945"
"And your address, Mrs. Cox?"
"419 Broadway, Seabrook, Texas, 77586"
"And what is this about?"
I explain the whole history again along with my frustration and my voice is getting louder and louder and higher and higher. My daughter steps in and says "Mom, it's not her fault."
"I'm sorry. It's just we've been dealing with this since April 12 and getting no where."
"Let me see what I can do and get back with you."
"When will I hear from you?"
"Within 24 hours."
May 7
Phone call to American Home Shield:
"Thank you for calling American Home Shield. Para espanol marque nueve ahora. If you want to hear an introduction, say introduction. Otherwise stay on the line for our menu. If something in your home isn't working, say service request."
"Service request"
"What is the item that is broken?"
"Microwave."
"Please hold while we connect you with a service representative."
"This is Susan. Can I have your contract number?"
"918774532"
"And to whom am I speaking?"
"Kathryn Cox."
"And would you verify your address for me?"
"419 Broadway, Seabrook, Texas 77586"
"And what can I do for you today, Mrs. Cox?"
I relay once again the history of the service request.
"Another part arrived that is again the wrong size."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs. Cox. Let me set up a conference call with Sears."
(another pause)
Sears is on the line and I listen and the rep goes through the record they have of the technician and the visits and the parts. Susan thanks Sears and hangs up.
"Mrs. Cox, this sounds like we are going in circles. Let me put our research department on it and see what we can come up with."
"Thank you and when can I expect to hear back?"
"Within 24 hours."
"And if I don't?"
"Call us back."
"What do I do with these parts that don't fit?"
"Seal them up and I will call UPS to pick them up. Thank you for using American Home Shield."
May 14
Message to call Sears which I do but give up part way through the menu when no one seems to know why I am to call them.
May 15
A message on the answering machine from a very tired sounding Sears rep.
"Please call Sears at 1-800-776-4663."
"This is Kathryn Cox. I'm returning your call regarding service to my microwave."
"May I have your home phone number, Mrs. Cox?"
"487 773-6945"
"And your address, Mrs. Cox?"
"419 Broadway, Seabrook, Texas, 77586"
"And what is this about?"
"My microwave...the wrong part was sent again."
"Can you hold for a moment while I check the record?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Mrs. Cox, I need to transfer you to the research department. Please hold."
"Please stay on the line. A representative will be with you shortly."
(long pause)
"Hello, Mrs. Cox. What can I do for you?"
I tell the story again while gritting my teeth and refraining from screaming into the phone.
"We are in the process of checking into another supplier. Thank you for your patience. You should hear from us in 24 hours"
May 16
A message late in the day from a very tired Denise saying that they have ordered another part and to call when it arrives within 3 to 5 days.
May 21
No UPS. No part as yet. By now I can see the humor in all this ...the absolute absurdity of bureaucratic systems.
I really don't want a new microwave as it will mean making the cabinet fit all over again so wish me luck. Crazy world we live in!
I have to say that in the 40 plus years we have used American Home Shield Insurance on all our appliances this is the first time I have had a problem. They have replaced the stove, the dishwasher, the washing machine, the garage door opener and saved us thousands on plumbing and air conditioning problems. But I can't say the same for Sears repair service with whom they contract. Sheesh!
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Mother's Day
I look at today and realize how much I miss my own mother and think about what she gave me...the advice and a lot of love, a whole lot of love. I had a truly wonderful childhood...she saw to that through thick and thin...she and my grandmother who came to live with us when my dad was drafted into WWII. I never went hungry, always had clean clothes (hand-washed...no machine), was treated with kindness and probably spoiled. Mother was forced to enter the work force to support us and day care was nearly impossible. She and I rode two buses to get to day care and she then rode another back to the office at Internal Revenue and then repeated it all in reverse to get us back home. We were both miserable with the day care situation...enter Grandmother Bonnie from Oklahoma who had been widowed at 32 with 4 children and supported them all by working in a general store in a little town in southeastern Oklahoma. She left her home and friends of many years and came to Austin to be there to give me breakfast and send me off in the morning and when I returned, banging the screen door after school.
With a great love or music I wanted desperately to learn to play the piano. My friends were learning but we had no money or room for a piano in our little two bedroom house. My resourceful mom made an arrangement with the old lady next door who had a piano for me to practice on hers. I was thrilled, rode my bike to Mrs. Sheely's house for lessons a couple of miles away and came home to practice. I have never been sorry that I can read music and play a little still. Thank you, Mom.
From the two of them I learned that women are strong, courageous risk-takers who can support a family and be independent. I learned the importance of kindness and compassion, to care for family, friends and neighbors. Though not from the deep South, I learned the value of good manners, a love of fabric with an appreciation for fine clothing even if created by ourselves. I learned to stand up straight and keep my chin up. I learned to find the humor in the midst of chaos and disappointment. I learned the difference in loving someone and not necessarily accepting their behavior. I learned never to wear white before Easter or after Labor Day...especially white shoes, white blouses and sweaters were the exception. I learned how to be a good friend. I learned to brush my hair every day and how to make breaded veal cutlets with white gravy. And fudge, of course. I learned never to suck loudly on a straw and that it was naughty to stick my tongue out at someone. I learned how to set a proper table with silverware in the proper order. I was supported in my passion for reading and in creating art (until I got to college when I was channelled into pre-law/pre-med liberal arts as "You will never make a living as an artist."). I was told to study Latin in high school and found it to be my favorite and most memorable class. My grandmother told me to never marry until I was 30 and to go out and see the world. I was told that only gypsies and Mexicans pierce their ears. Paradoxically, I learned to question everything.
I didn't follow all those admonishments. If Mother could only see the piercings in my granddaughter's ears and it took me 15 years to get past that admonition and get two piercings in both ears.
I married at 21 and did get to see the world after my children were grown.
Most importantly out of all of this I learned to love and be loved unconditionally and hopefully my children, grandchildren and great grandchildren have learned or will learn to do the same. But I can't help but wonder what my children and grandchildren will take with them as good advice or some little silly nonsense about how to live their own lives. What have I passed on from the generations before me? Only they can answer that.
Sunday, May 06, 2012
Double Vision
Double Vision
Being married to an identical twin has had some interesting moments in the 54 years I’ve been in this family. We grew up on the same street one block away from each other on a short street north of the UT campus in Austin, Texas. My husband is six years older than me which now doesn’t seem like much (well, maybe some days it does) but growing up, it was a huge difference. He was starting at the University of Texas when I was beginning junior high and he was friends with the older brothers of my friends in the neighborhood. I occasionally would see him playing football in the street with his brother and was only vaguely aware that there were twins in the next block as I passed their house on the way to the bus stop.
That all changed when I graduated high school and joined a sorority at UT. I was in a liberal arts program called Plan II and was living at home until the beginning of my junior year when I moved into the sorority house. I had two wonderful roommates, Pat and Linda. I had broken up with my Aggie boyfriend and had had a few dates with guys I had met in classes but didn’t really know anyone to ask as my date to the sorority’s Christmas dance.
My roommate Linda had started dating an older guy named Allen who shared a house with two other men. One of them, Kenneth, had been dating women in my sorority for several years and usually had a date for this event. Linda suggested that I invite Kenneth since, for some reason, he was dateless. She gave me his last name and I made the connection to the boy I had seen playing football in the street. She explained that he was now teaching engineering at UT while working on his Master’s and was without a date. I agreed to consider the invitation if he would first ask me out for coffee. He did and I did and the real story begins from there.
Kenneth’s twin brother, Keith, was also sharing the house so when I would visit, I had to learn to which was which. Most of the time I did pretty well but their voices are so similar it was and still is difficult to tell their speech apart. So there were times when calling the house, I would get them mixed up. Face to face I was always grateful that they didn’t dress alike.
After we married and were living in Dallas in a small apartment north of SMU where I was finishing up a degree, Keith and some other guys would come up to Dallas for the OU-Texas game and stay with us. I do remember charging into the bathroom thinking it was Ken in it shaving and being so embarrassed to learn it was Keith.
It continues to amaze me how linked these two brothers are in totally unconscious ways. Keith married a high school friend of mine and they moved to Ohio and we moved to Denver. We began to collect a little furniture and one big purchase was a Paul McCobb desk from a dealer in Littleton, Colorado. Unknown to Ken or Keith, Keith purchased the exact same desk in Ohio. They both are still using the desks. They like the same music and collect the same CDs. They both are avid newspaper readers even though in different professions. And they both ended up in Houston, Kenneth to get a doctorate at Rice and join Nasa at JSC, Keith to join the marketing faculty of the University of Houston.
A few years ago Keith invited us to meet him and his wife at a faculty reception. We arrived before they did and you can only imagine the stares and chilly looks I got as “the other woman” on Kenneth’s arm. Thanks goodness for all of us it was all explained when the other twin arrived.
Each couple had two children, all within a couple of years of each other and we were able to spend fun vacation days together. The children were continually getting them confused. Evidently even at knee level they look the same. If a child approached the wrong dad saying “Dad?”, the man in question would just point to the other twin and say, “Over there.”
My husband grew a beard and for many years that really solved the problem…solved it until Keith grew one as well.
The mix-ups are still going on. At a party the other night at their home, a couple was really confused after Keith had met them at the door wearing a flowered shirt and black shorts. A few minutes later they found themselves talking with Kenneth and wondering why he had changed into khaki pants and a different shirt. Later they saw “him” again in a flowered shirt and the black shorts. It took them a while to figure out what was going on.
We stayed the night after the party and my sister-in-law and I had a big laugh. After getting ready for bed, the twins showed up in matching pajamas, exactly the same purchased a year apart from J.C. Penny with no knowledge of the other’s purchase.
I can’t help but wonder if there is any research going on about the long term connections of twins. These two are now in their 80s, are a little easier to tell apart, both with PhDs and still active in their fields and still very connected at some deeper level that continues to surprise their wives.
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