Postcard to Houston

I lived on Planet Houston from 1987-1991 and attended the University of Houston. This is a moment from a much longer, rambling blog and is a melted crayon love letter to Houston. 

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I had a friend keep me out of jail. I was in danger of going to jail because I went to South Padre instead of court. That is a story unto itself. I crashed on couches, lived in a warehouse, I lived with a grad student and her daughter as well as on the bay with Aunt Polly--this all after we sold our house and Jim returned to Denver. I stayed to work with Edward Albee and Jose Quintero. I learned mime from Claude Caux and acting from Ruddy Cravens, costumes with Claremarie Verhayen and my fellow writers, actors and directors at UH taught me daily. I feel such gushy love for that place and those people. I remember Amy's confidence, and Beth's talent, Curtis' laugh,and Peter's stoic realism. I remember Tracy, who wanted to be a teacher which I thought that was noble but stupid. She was so talented, why would she want to waste it on teaching?I remember Paul's wise and infuriatingly logical approach to everything and Chris' irrepressible enthusiasm. Albee's gravely judgment and Quintero's soft love. I watch every tropical storm and hurricane  and marvel at how much water that place can take on and keep going. As I watched Harvey do a sit and spin over Houston, I just kept shaking my head, thinking "Don't piss off Texas". There is  a photo of a woman in her neighborhood, knee deep in water holding a rifle. 

       I smiled. You pissed off Texas, didn't you, Harvey?

       The hurricane spun and when Houston realized it wasn't going to let up,  they lived the joke they're heard about red necks for years. Harvey challenged them, and Houston said "Hold my beer", and proceeded to combat the anger and fury the only way they knew how: with love. They gassed up their boats, opened their furniture stores to those who fled, sent their furniture trucks to those who couldn't get to the store, saved neighborhood animals and huddled with them in their attic, paid their employees even though they couldn't get to work--the stories are in the hundreds, and they aren't going to stop.

         When Katrina wiped out New Orleans, Houston took in the refugees.

         When Harvey hit Houston, Houston helped themselves. 

          When Jim and I arrived, newly burgled, having lost everything to ass hat thieves in Arlington, Houston took us in, patted us on the heads and said  "You're home now, you just sit on down. Hold my beer. Lemme get you some supper, have a drink, y'all. It's gonna be fine."

          I love that city and I love that state. 

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