Wednesday, July 14, 2010

On the Road Again

It is early Wednesday morning in Amarillo. We left Austin yesterday evening by way of a route similar to one we used to take in the 1980s, not back up to Dallas as we have usually done since. Rather than stay two evenings at Nat's house after Clint and Shannon's wedding, we decided Sunday evening to leave the next morning for Austin. On the way we called and texted the Lowe's and arranged a visit to their Lake Travis home. Joe showed off his new recording studio "The Dog House" and Ruth prepared a hamburger dinner for her boys and us. I surprised Joe by bringing out my Yamaha WX5 wind controller and we jammed a little together. One of his musician buddies, Michael, stopped by to pick up his bass and amp and stayed for a beer and burger.

I will need to practice more to regain any technical skills and creative ability I thought I might have had before. Study and practice I have begun haltingly since the late spring. The evening I blew through my old Buescher Aristocrat I knew that I had to put away the WX5 and devote more if not most of the time playing analog. Recording digitally is superior, but playing analog is sublime. So much more nuance and expression from the reed and brass and the clap-trap, if you will, of the key mechanisms. I will continue exploring digital compositions and notation, but I need to expand the wonders of air bending on the tenor sax.

Some sad news. Two of the squids great-aunts died while we were in Texas. My mom's oldest sister, Petra "Pat" Lopez, died perhaps the same day that my dad's next older and last surviving sibling, Sara Q. Reyes died. Sara was an old teacher married to an urban planner. Together they had accumulated some property and raised a daughter in Austin. I did not see her much after Mary and I were married in 1974. We saw more of Pat, and while he was still alive, Monroe Lopez, when we still lived in Austin, mostly at the restaurant they ran on the old East Avenue, now I 35 South, "El Matamoros". Mom still has a sister and brother. Dad is the last Quintanilla of his generation.

1 comment:

  1. Oh! That is so sad to think of Grandpa as the last of his generation of Q's. I'm sorry I didn't know Pat or Sara well.

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