In-laws and outlaws

On a normal Thanksgiving we'd be filling up on carbs and alcohol with the Muckers, but they have inconveniently decided to stay in Virginia rather than relocate to Texas.  So this year we decided to replace them.  With ourselves.

Christine's dad Jim lives near Austin, a few hours' drive from us (in Texas we measure distance in hours).  To beat the holiday traffic we drove out into hill country on Tuesday night, arriving late, putting Pete straight to bed, and then jumping into Jim's hot tub.

We enjoyed his resort-style retirement for all of Wednesday, wandering along his lakefront, going out to his clubhouse for lunch, playing bocce ball at his house.  In the evening he took me to his local karaoke night.  They had both kinds of music - country and western - but there was no way I could compete with a bunch of Texas retirees rocking the hits.  I cradled my G&T quietly in the corner.

On Thanksgiving morning we drove over to Vince's parents.  The Mucker Snr. house was even fuller than the Mucker Jr. one.  I'm not sure I was introduced to everyone, but after a few drinks it didn't matter.  We ate a gigantic turkey dinner and watched a lot of American football; this is actually the dictionary definition of Thanksgiving.  Later I was able to trick everyone into watching the cricket from Brisbane, although much translation was required ("the pitcher bowls six balls, and then the batters have to run between the bases, and you get six for a home run...")

We drove back to Jim's this morning, having discovered that the legendary In'n'Out burger has restaurants as far east as Waco!  Waco and not Houston?!  An animal-style cheeseburger with fries and a neopolitan shake was just what I needed after waffles for breakfast. 

Now we're back at Jim's for a final night before the return to Houston tomorrow.  Everyone agreed that we were a big improvement over Vince and Christine so, like Thanksgiving, it looks like we could be an annual tradition.

Jim has a seven-person hot tub.  Or a one person hot-tub, according to Hannah.

At Lago Vista lakeside.

And then lunch.  It's a tough life.

Out the back of Jim's property.  This is real Texas.

A little afternoon refreshment.

And then bocce ball!  Which is boules.

Ah, time for some proper sport.  It's not tradition to watch The Ashes at Thanksgiving, I was shocked to discover.

The Muckers got in a few drinks for our arrival.

"So if we can come to see you in Houston then we won't need to go to cold, rainy Virginia anymore to see...what was my youngest son's name again?"



Precision turkey cooking.

Hannah was very engaged by the football.

Pre-lunch G&T.

The usual chaos of the family dinner.

Why is Pete laughing?

Because his new friend John Paul is doing this.

A quick snack on the way home.

Walking off the calories.

Hill country sunset.

Aaaaannnddd just one more dip in the hot tub before we leave.

Texas Tea

Sometimes I forget that the USA is actually 50 countries smooshed together, but I was reminded of it today from both ends of the spectrum.  At one extreme, I received an email from the naked hot springs Hannah and I visited many years ago.  Goodness knows when I wrote down my email address for them - where would I have been carrying a pen?  Anyway, the owner was advertising his new book: Psychedelic Medicine: The Healing Powers of LSD which, among other things, explores 'the intersections of politics, science, and psychedelics...and the efforts to restore psychedelic therapies'.

Only in Northern California, I chuckled to myself, fondly remembering the fun times we had there.  At least, those times I can recall, when I wasn't hallucinating significantly, having taken magic mushrooms to shift a mild headache.

At the other end of the scale was our visit to the brand-spanking-new Weiss Energy Hall at the Houston Museum of Natural Science.  Energy is, of course, ever more important, with an expanding population and the ravages of climate change, so it's a good time to open a fully updated, enlarged version of this gallery.  What new and alternative technologies are out there?  What can we do to safeguard our planet?  What does the future look like?

Well, if you're standing in Houston, the future looks black, sticky, and you spell it with three letters.

Even Hannah - yes, even Hannah - thought the whole thing was a little weighted towards oil, in the sense that a supertanker of crude is a little weighted towards oil.  There were fabulous displays on drilling technology, 15-ft-high videos showing Precambrian animals turning into barrels of black gold, and touch-screens on hydrocarbons to keep even the most hyperactive 4-yr-old occupied.

The highlight was certainly the motion ride that took you deep into a dried-up well.  "Nothing down here but broken drill bits and disappointment," complained our deeply-Texan robot guide before showing how fracking can solve the world's energy problems.

There was a small display about imaginary alternatives like solar or geothermal or fusion, but it didn't have cool graphics or move or talk, so we skipped that part.

As a family up to our necks in oil I can only applaud Houston's pride in the stuff that built - and continues to build - the city, and then imagine what the demonstrations would look like if the California Academy of Sciences opened a similar display in Golden Gate Park.  Conversely, I doubt that Dr Miller will be selling many psychedelic healing books down in this part of the world.  We're too busy drilling so the rest of y'all can fill up y'all's cars to drive to y'all's protests.

Yes, Texas has a different perspective on reality.  So does California - hallucinogens vs. hydrocarbons, if you will.  Corralling these and the 48 other realities into one whole is almost too much for the brain - certainly the brains of anyone in government.  So where do we go from here?

I can tell you where I went.  I went for barbecue.

One of the fun craft activities on the members' preview night.

Roughnecks on the rig.

Who knew hydrocarbons were so cool?

Under the drill.

A fracking good time on the motion ride.

The pipeline display!  Hannah's at home, and thankfully Chevron's never leak.

Indoctrination.

...

Who put those ugly turbines near that beautiful rig?

Thanks, Chevron.

I found this scrawled on the toilet wall.  So, you know, balance.

Here are some things that were too lazy to become oil!

The mother country.

Hottest couple in Houston.

Can you win the wildcatter lottery?  Hannah did, in the museum and in life.

Exploring the ocean depths.  Who puts oil in such annoying places?

Reflecting on hydrocarbon molecules.

The list of generous sponsors!  No strings attached.

Gone to the dogs

When Dante descended into his Inferno he passed through nine circles before meeting Satan.  Had he kept going down, he'd have entered the secret tenth circle of hell known as PAW Patrol Live!

PAW Patrol is a children's animated entertainment in which a 10-yr-old called Ryder commands a number of talking puppies that have been augmented with mechanised gear and perpetrate rescues, usually of recurring characters such as Mayor Goodway and her pet chicken Chickaletta or Cap'n Turbot and his friendly walrus Wally.  It's made in Canada, but that's no excuse.

PAW Patrol Live! brings this central conceit to the stage, each dog rendered larger-than-life by an actor who is sort-of riding them.  The plot, though I use that word loosely, is: after rescuing Chickaletta from the top of a pile of pumpkins on a train track the puppies are tasked with winning a race around their hometown of Adventure Bay (sorry: spoilers).  The effect is dizzying and disorientating, like medieval torture.

I wouldn't claim to be the target audience for this kind of thing.  That said, the classics of children's entertainment are defined by a cheeky wink to the parents, an understanding that many watching are suffering through this for the sake of their little ones.  Bagpuss has the genius folk stylings of Gabriel and Madeleine, The Clangers spent a lot of their time swearing, and I worry that I use Pete as an excuse to watch Danger Mouse, Shaun The Sheep, and Hey Duggee.  Hell, even Peppa Pig throws you a couple of sly jokes per episode.

There's none of that in PAW Patrol, which is so cringingly wholesome that I actually left the theatre a worse person to compensate.  While sitting there, in the dark, I tried to determine if there was some deeper meaning to the madness.  Is this an allegory of our exploitation of animals?  An analysis of modern feudalism?  An elegy for the demise of Marxism at the hands of technology?

Surprisingly, my project proved fruitless, mainly because I was distracted by a thousand screaming children loving every minute.  Pete stated that PAW Patrol Live! was the best thing that had ever happened to him in his life.  "The path to paradise begins in hell," said Dante, but did his path ever take him through PAW Patrol Live?  It did not.

Someone is excited (and pleased with the free pompom we got on entry).

Welcome to the cheap seats.

It begins.

The Chickaletta Cheerleaders showed up to do...something.

You'll believe a dog can fly.  But probably not.

Surely a metaphor for something!?

Did any of the crazily happy fans care for the pain of the man in row M, seat 3?  What do you think.

Due South

Like Texas, Canada is a country loosely connected to the United States, so it was a pleasure to welcome Jane here for her holiday from Vancouver.  Unfortunately she brought the Canadian weather with her.  It's been freezing, and by freezing I mean it was actually pleasant to drink coffee sitting outside.

Jane was here for a week, which meant we packed in the cultural excursions, historical outings, book shops, barbecue meals and breweries.  Lots of breweries.  On Thursday, thanks to a visit to Platypus Brewing, she managed to get into double figures of local beers sampled!  Impressive, but understandable given she's a subject of Her Majesty, like us.

Everywhere we went, locals seemed surprised but pleased that someone would choose to holiday in Houston, and the conversation would inevitably turn to how this city is a well-kept secret, and how hopefully it will remain that way to keep house and living prices down.  I didn't let on that the millions of tourists who will inevitably descend after reading my blog and/or talking to Jane will skew things economically.  Enjoy it while it lasts Houstonians.

Calamity Jane?  Not at all!  This was an accident-free Davies Tours International trip to George Historic Ranch.

They also have a sign that reads "Beware of alligators and snakes" but this one is more terrifying.

Just chilling on the porch during her holiday.

Things were a little more hectic at home, when Jane was roped into endless games of "diner" by Pete.

See?  Coffee outside without suffering from heatstroke.  How Canadian.

Want to view some cutting-edge contemporary art?  Because here in Houston we have everything.  I'm not sure what this actually is, but it's part of the everything we have!



Come back and see us again, Jane!  Here are six reasons to.