Cousin Straw on YouTube

"Straw (J Malcom) was filmed here doing a seasonal decorative painting on a shop window. The artist has worked in both Port Aransas and Austin Texas for decades. This kind of window painting will probably soon become a lost art form, just like custom signage. At any rate, the next time you're in Port Aransas, stop by Moby Dicks and take a picture of your little ones posing with his sea-side creation, definitely full of fun and whimsy. While you're there, check out the interior and grab a bite to eat. You'll love the place, and you'll also love Ed, the owner and resident creative genius. He taught Straw the art of window painting many years ago."

Remember this post about Straw's work in Austin?

Stay fit girls! 

Quality Seafood - Straw ambiance

Sally,

Good time hanging with the Ritchies at Quality Seafood last night, listening to Chris play bass in his Jazz Band and catching up with dear friends Scott and Margo. They have three graduations in their family this summer: Maddie (headed to be a Duck at the University of Oregon), Chris (St. Ed's) and David (grad school at UNC and headed to Orlando to teach and coach at a prep school.) Good people - good times.

The mural on the wall at Quality was painted by cousin John (Straw) Malcom. Each of the characters represent someone in the family, though I am not sure who is who in the seafood zoo.

I heard you were working late and rendering away last night. Your mom asked, "What is a render?" So happy that you are a fan of AutoCAD. Saw this article this morning and thought you would like it.

Stay the course,

Dad

Ouarzazate to the Dades Gorge

Kind of a sort day today, but to close the loop on the big kasbah from yesterday, it is called Ait Ben Haddou and is a UNESCO World Heritage site.

Was bothered during the night by dogs barking. I think they bark in Arabic. They look like our dogs,but sound different.

Started out at 9am today and went straight to a coop where they say several Berber tribes from Morocco, northern Mali and northern Niger try to sell their carpets, knives, wood products and other stuff they make by hand. It was quite a sales presentation especially since I wasn't going to buy anything. The salesman has on the flowing robe and scarf or towel wrapped around his head. His name is Hassan and he speaks great English and claims to speak six languages. After showing me the wood and silver products, he takes me into the rug room which has hundreds of Berber carpets folded up and stacked around all four walls. He asks me to sit in an ornate throne and calls for his assistant to come in the room. This kid looks like he's 14 and is from the Sudan. They proceed to take carpets off the wall and unfold them and cover the floor with about 15 carpets. With each one he explains which tribe made them and how they were made. So on a loom. Some tied in knots. Some embroidered. Some a combination. He says that it can take a Berber woman 6 months to a year to make one. Kind of like you don't finish a huge jigsaw puzzle at once, he says the women work on the carpets as they have time from their regular day's work. Very entertaining and he's understood that I wasn't a buyer. Would love to know how many pitches he has to make to sell a rug.

Donkeys aren't nearing extinction. They are everywhere. Used for human transport, pulling wooden carts and plowing their fields. Yahja says they sell for about $300.

Then we headed for the town of Skouza to see the Amridil kasbah. Had a guide show me around and explain how people lived in them hundreds of years ago. He spoke great English and showed me many farm and household implements that we're found in the kasbah when the current owner bought it to preserve. The structure was about 5 stories tall and made out of a mud, straw and rock mix. This was before cement. The roofs/ceilings were made of straw and mud. Worthwhile to see.

Moroccan radio music is brutal. At least Yahja keeps the volume low.

Saw my first shepherd with a group of camels today. Looked to be a teenager with about 10 camels. Yahja says that this kid probably was in charge of taking them out of the enclosure at his house each day so they can graze in the desert. Camels are very valuable at $1500 per. They provide milk that is supposed to be healthy and shed their hair once a year and it is collected and sold.

On the drive down the Dades River valley to see the Gorge, I kept seeing clothes hanging in the trees on the river bank. Finally saw some women bending down and washing the clothes in the river water and then they were hung up to dry. They don't have enough water in their homes to was clothes.

Saw my first nomads today as we were driving thru a small village. Yahja says that they come down out of the mountains about once a week to get some supplies. They had mules to haul the stuff back uphill. He says they probably have 200-300 sheep and goats that they tend. They live in tents or caves so they can keep moving as their stock eats the bushes. I asked why they don't live in a house since they know that basic civilization exists and keep their stock at lower elevations and Yahja says it is because the grazing land in the mountains is free and they couldn't afford to graze near town.

We made it to the Dades Gorge mid pm. At its narrowest, its wide enough for the river and a one lane road. Made a video of going thru it that I will try to figure out how to send when I get home.

Sitting down for dinner now at Chez Pierre the guest house I'm staying at tonight. Will report on the meal tomorrow when we get to Zagora.

Houria. That's peace for you non-Arabic speakers.

Anything Goes Thursday

Nugget from Uncle Ricky

Good morning Lucy May. I'm up early out West, thinking about my day and praying for mom, you, your sisters and our family. I know BeBe is at peace now and has already signed up for some heavenly bridge tournaments or found an amazing fishing hole with Pop. 

The sign to the left is a Nugget from Ye Olde Waffle Shoppe on Franklin Street in Chapel Hill. Ricky sends these out occasionally. 

From Wikipedia:

Pablo Ruiz Picasso; (25 October 1881 – 8 April 1973) was a Spanish painter, sculptor, printmaker, ceramicist, stage designer, poet and playwright who spent most of his adult life in France. Regarded as one of the most influential artists of the 20th century, he is known for co-founding the Cubist movement, the invention of constructed sculpture, the co-invention of collage, and for the wide variety of styles that he helped develop and explore. Among his most famous works are the proto-Cubist Les Demoiselles d'Avignon (1907), and Guernica (1937), a dramatic portrayal of the bombing of Guernica by the German and Italian airforces during the Spanish Civil War.

I also have a few pictures of BeBe to share this morning and sometime soon I will try to compile all of my BeBe pictures in a photo essay. And a couple of other Nuggets: (1) A man and his truck and his Tilley! and (2) My colleague Erin Priest's Father-in-Law (Micael Priest) passed away in Austin yesterday - one of a kind original - made me think of Straw!

How's that for an Anything Goes Thursday?

A man and his truck and his Tilley!

Draa River valley to Zagora

Because you can never talk too much about food, here's last nights meal at Chez Pierre. I think I had managed to avoid zucchini in any form my whole life and now I've had it two nights in a row as soup. Then the little pizza showed up again and I'm thinking there may be no variety in Morocco. But then the waiter puts some duck with wine sauce in front of me. Long trip to get my first taste of duck. It was served with potato and something that looked like green beans. All was good and then what amounted to hot apple pie was served for desert which was off the charts good. Gaining weight.

Chez Pierre is at some elevation and I got my first taste of the desert cooling off at night to the point of being cold. Very much like Vegas in the winter. They have no heating system. During dinner they had a stove with a wood fire going, but me and Spanish couple and French family all had on our coats. My room was very cold, but the bed had the two heaviest blankets on it that I have ever seen. They may have really been rugs. Was not cold all night.

I'm now 2.5 out of three on the showers. This one made up for its lack of water pressure by having terry cloth bedroom slippers. Couldn't resist trying them on. Took a selfie of my feet. Let me know if you want a copy when I get back.

Saw a lady this morning bent over at the back using a small straw broom to sweep the five foot wide space of dirt between her house and the road. Pride comes in many forms.

RV's are on the road here. Yahja says that Europeans bring them over the Mediterranean on a boat or ferry to get out of the winter weather. Have seen dozens each day.

Stopped today at a rose oil cooperative. Never heard of rose oil, but this one area makes a lot of it. Families grow roses and combine the blooms and make oil very much like moonshine is made. They press the pedals to get liquid out. Then steam the liquid and cool it with water running through coils just like a still. The oil is then used to make hand and face cream, soap, etc.

Each day we've been thru a few police check points. There are two officers standing beside the road with a small police car. They are dressed very spiffy with kind of a military police look They put a little sign about 50 yds up the road from them and you must stop and wait for one of them to wave you up. Every time they have just waved us on thru. So when we went thru the first one today, I asked Yahja if they waved us thru because they could see that this was a tourist car and that they'd been told not to hassle tourists. He said that was true but that he had been stopped with people like me before. So the obvious follow up question was do they ever demand bribes to go thru. He laughed and said of course. They will pick out a few vehicles each day and find a few things wrong. Some they will take a bribe to overlook and share the money with their boss. then they will write a ticket for the others. As you would expect, about an hour later we come to one and they stop us. They ask Yahja who I am and he says a tourist. The officer then sticks his hand thru the window to shake my hand and asks where I'm from. I say I'm an American. He smiles big and says welcome to our beautiful country. I say it is very beautiful. He wishes me a grat visit and waves us on. I exhale.

Yahja says there are no wild camels. All camels are owned by someone.

Saw a construction worker stop his work today and unroll his prayer blanket and take off his shoes. Then get on his knees and rock up and down praying for a few minutes. Really hard to get used to seeing in the workplace.

We got to Zagora about 4 pm today and Yahja brought me to Villa Zagora where I'm the only person spending tonight. This is the second night that Yahja has spent at a friends house. Last night he stayed at the hotel, but did not get to eat meals. I had some time to kill before dark so decided to walk back to town to see what I could see. Figured it was safe as I've seen no anti American sentiment. And it was safe, but everywhere I've been there's been hassling by people who want to sell you something or begging by children. Gets old after a while. On the way back I saw a guy driving a motor scooter with a sheep between his knees. He was either dead or a very well behaved pet sheep.

Dinner tonight was amazing since I am the only one that was being served. Two guys run the place. One speaks some English and brought out each course and the other speaks french and cleared my plates. Two women came to work to do the cooking. First was bread and the now ever present zucchini soup. Then I'm told that next will come couscous. Now couscous is a food I've heard of but never figured out what it was. And for some reason it didn't sound appetizing to me. So while I'm waiting, I quickly wikipedia couscous and find out its steam rice with vegetables and some sort of meat. Across the room is the kitchen where the women are singing loudly and having a ball with what sounds like very high pitched Arabic yodeling. The couscous comes and it is a big bowl of steamed rice with potato and opinion on top with a skewer of beef and one of chicken. I'm stuffed as I write this and couldnt finish the fruit salad that came for desert. I told the English speaker to tell the women that this was the best couscous that I had ever had and that I would be honored if they would come out of the kitchen and sing for me. My ears are still ringing.

Tomorrow we head for the real Sahara desert. First we will go by the Erg Chigaga dunes. Then a little further and the road will end. Yahja will then use his local knowledge to drive about 30 miles thru the dunes to the desert camp where I will stay for two nights. We will then drive about 50 miles out the other side and back to the roads on Sunday. So no email for a couple of days.

Will be about 20 miles from Algeria when at the camp. Was hoping to get another stamp for my passport but Yahja says there is no border crossing for hundreds of miles. Just desert, hashish smugglers and illegal aliens from the sub continent trying to get to Europe.

The picture of me riding a camel will go to the highest bidder. Should be special. Rider up

Remembering Pop

Dear Sally, Emily and Lucy,

There are three big things I will always cherish and remember (about my father-in-law and your grandfather) and two smaller, but equally important things that Pop taught me. First his love of the Lord. He was a man of great faith and he used his steadfast faith to help himself overcome some challenges and to help many others find their path in life. Second, his love of his country and especially his military. And third, the way he loved his family - an unconditional love that he showed his wife (of 59 years), his children, his grandchildren, and his great grandchildren. As far the two smaller things, it was the way I watched him enjoy his post-military years. His appreciation for the little things, that in the end perhaps are more important than anything else, and his understanding of rituals. I have tried to capture both the big and small in the essay below.

A glimpse of Brig. Gen. (Ret) OC ‘Pop’ Malcom
September 5,1933 - July 5, 2012
By: G. Page Singletary

 

“Walk with me and work with me - watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.” (From Matthew, Chapter 11 and my Bible verse to forever remember 'Pop')

 

  The Braves won in the bottom of the tenth last night, when Chipper Jones smashed a two run double to the opposite field, and with that crack of the bat his bedroom television is silenced and Pop fades to rest. He rises before the sun and makes his bed in a military fashion, corners perfectly tucked, spread pulled taut. He knows where the best sausage biscuits can be found and marches out in the green pick-up to purchase the morning breakfast, carefully considering how many it will take to feed his troops sleeping in the barracks below.

  He scours the morning paper. What else happened in the world of sports and in the bigger world of things (perhaps) more important than the Braves or the Georgia Bulldogs? “Did I tell you about the year Hershel Walker brought us the National Championship and Benjamin Franklin “Buck” Belue threw the most beautiful 97 yard touchdown pass to Lindsey Scott and we beat those damn Florida Gators? Things have never been the same between the hedges, but Hershel was a special guy. That was 1980 son, and we took it to Notre Dame in the Sugar Bowl for a perfect 12 and 0 season.” 

  What is going on in Macon? What is our military up to? What has our President done now? “Here son, do you want to read the paper?”
 

  We arrived the day prior, after the long ride from Virginia or Nashville or Pennsylvania or Texas, rolling our windows down as we hit Linger Longer Drive, smelling the sweet Georgia pines. As we turned into the driveway, the grass perfectly cut, the garden in full bloom, Pop, as always, is there to greet us with that big smile and huge hugs. “Who are you?,” he says to the girls. “I’m Pop’s doll baby and he loves me Lordy Lordy,” they reply in unison.
 

Pop and 'Baby' flying around the Lake

  The inner tube has been newly patched and inflated, the boat tuned and spiffed up and we are ready for some fun on Lake Oconee. The girls can drive the boat, even though they are barely able to see over the wheel and they block Pop’s view from behind. They can catch fish until the sun goes down, and then they can catch some more fish until midnight if they choose. They can fall off the dock in their pajamas, because Pop will reel them back up like a large catfish, because that is what he does and he knows they can not yet swim. He watches their every move. He gives them nicknames, like Beauty, Cutie, and Baby.

 “You don’t know?” “Yes I do.” “What do you know?” “I love you.”
 

Pop and Cutie (Beauty in the back)

  There’s Huey, Dewey and Louie waddling across the pine straw and the grass in the backyard. There’s Pop’s favorite dog of all time Misty, jumping in the boat or the truck to go for a ride, perhaps to the grocery store, a daily trip for sure. There grow the most beautiful tomatoes you have ever seen, ready to be sliced and served along side fried fish, hush puppies, and BeBe’s famous coleslaw made just right for each individual child.
 

Pop, Beauty, Misty and one of many fish

  Before we eat, we join hands and Pop prays with authority and he always makes a special request for God to remember our service men and women around the world. After multiple trips to the kitchen counter, and much discussion about the different types of fish in the pan and the different types of slaw and the carefully counted tomatoes, he speaks those famous words, “Is everyone sufficiently parinsified?”  And the ensuing debate continues as to whether parinsified is indeed a word, as Pop was told it was by his third grade teacher.
 

  Later that night, after the fried food settles in a bit, there will be moose tracks and lime sherbet. There will be stories and laughter. There will be another Braves game on the television and somewhere around the 7th inning stretch, Pop will head up to command central, kissing everyone goodnight and saying, "Sleep well my children and when I am gone, remember me in your heart."

"Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly." (Matthew 11: 28-30 The Message)