The Color Men Choose When They Attack the Earth

This is a little belated, but I have a few things to say about my recent Halloween trip to Houston, where I was visiting Laura Richardson, an old partner in crime and now a PhD candidate in English Literature at Rice University. Not only did I have fun partying with a bunch of English nerd for 2.5 days, but I was pleasantly surprised by the city of Houston, especially Laura's Montrose-Westheimer neighborhood. Apparently it's known as the gay neighborhood and, like JP, gay = cool. Obvi. There were yummy eats- like the black bean burger at Ziggy's and the good breakfast Mexican food at Tacos-a-GoGo. I had some other yummy Mexican food too but the restaurant name escapes me. I especially enjoyed the peoplewatching at Anvil, a classy spot with specialty drinks and a popular stop along the annual Houston Halloween bar crawl. One guy was the karate kid, complete with a showerhead and shower curtain. In the small, crowded bar, he quickly became very annoying.


The Magritte and wooden sculpture below were from the Menil Collection, a small eclectic art gallery with unecessarily creaky floors. My favorite piece was a giant, bright yellow rectangle with a tiny stainless steel plate in the middle that read, "THE COLOR MEN CHOOSE WHEN THEY ATTACK THE EARTH." The artist is Walter de Maria. The pictures online suck and they wouldn't let me take one at the museum so I guess you'll have to see it for yourself.

All the houses surrounding the museum, the adjacent Rothko Chapel and the surrounding park are owned by the Menil endowment and are painted gray to match the museum. Laura, Lucy (the beast) and I spent some quality time hanging out in the park, playing frisbee and singing songs. It never gets colder than 50 degrees in Houston and, as a result, there are palm trees and the big gnarly trees you only see in other Southern cities like Savannah, New Orleans and Mobile. They might be Southern Live Oaks but I'm not sure.





Enjoying the warmth and sunshine in my hangover daze on Saturday morning, I almost forgot we were in Texas. Then we walked past Planned Parenthood. Six PP volunteers in flourescent yellow jackets were hanging out and chatting, presumably keeping tabs on the 40+ anti-abortion activists that lined both sides of the street in front of the clinic. Most of the protesters were young girls in pink shirts. It looked a lot like a sorority volunteer event. I suppose it could have been. Yay Texas!