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Valley of the Broken
Aug. 11th, 2001 04:45 pmAfter much tribulation, we have agreed that it is best to avoid technology for the day. (Both of Uncle Rex's cars broke down, the oven started emitting toxic fumes when Stretch tried to cook, and the computer ate my floppy disk, nearly destroying its own drive in the process.) Therefore, we are sprawled about the living room with literature in hand. (Stretch continues to do dishes, which I allege is a mistake. A lot of things can go wrong with plumbing.)
Stretch has decided to stop maintaining her website after she finishes the story about redistricting. She will pass it on to The Neighborhood Association, and I say good riddance. Don't get me wrong - I love the Gazette, and submit stories and photographs from time to time. But I find the stress Stretch aquires is not proportional to her satisfaction.
Instead, she will be working on The Documentary. This delights me because, well, I've been to film school and I get excited when there are cameras around.
The Documentary is a project of Uncle Rex's which was going forward full tilt until he became a hypnotist and had to work all the time. It's a comic look at the cool stuff to be found in Oak Cliff, the area of Dallas where I live. (To wit: Clyde Barrow's house and grave (ie Bonnie and Clyde history), The Texas Theater (where Oswald was arrested after the Kennedy assassination), Norma's Diner, Frank Lloyd Wright architecture, and the best of the Dallas art scene.)
The Documentary can be seen as a result of the famous "Oak Cliff Chip on the Shoulder." Oak Cliff is ethnically and culturally diverse. North Dallas is not particularly. They have a lot of money. We only have some money. They are largely uninteresting; we are bohemian.
As a result, we frighten them badly. They believe we are all gang members and drug dealers who want nothing more than to mug them and rape their women. (Okay, so I am rather violent and I do live across the street from a crack house. But Plano (way north) is the heroin capital of the US. (And I don't blame them. Who the hell wants to live in Plano whilst in a state of full consciousness?))
(I should note that there are some decent things about North Dallas and environs. But mostly, they are paralyzed with fear. When I say that I'm from Oak Cliff, (something of which I'm understandably proud,) people who already know me look terribly nervous and people who don't ask about my affiliations and then avoid me. People have been known to drop hundreds of dollars on cab rides out of fear of carjacking. It's crazy. Look at the aforementioned website and this should be obvious. The best analogy I can think of is Scotland to England, or better yet Montmartres to Paris.)
Oh look. Now the back door won't lock, nor will the shed, and it's about to storm. I should probably go help.
Stretch has decided to stop maintaining her website after she finishes the story about redistricting. She will pass it on to The Neighborhood Association, and I say good riddance. Don't get me wrong - I love the Gazette, and submit stories and photographs from time to time. But I find the stress Stretch aquires is not proportional to her satisfaction.
Instead, she will be working on The Documentary. This delights me because, well, I've been to film school and I get excited when there are cameras around.
The Documentary is a project of Uncle Rex's which was going forward full tilt until he became a hypnotist and had to work all the time. It's a comic look at the cool stuff to be found in Oak Cliff, the area of Dallas where I live. (To wit: Clyde Barrow's house and grave (ie Bonnie and Clyde history), The Texas Theater (where Oswald was arrested after the Kennedy assassination), Norma's Diner, Frank Lloyd Wright architecture, and the best of the Dallas art scene.)
The Documentary can be seen as a result of the famous "Oak Cliff Chip on the Shoulder." Oak Cliff is ethnically and culturally diverse. North Dallas is not particularly. They have a lot of money. We only have some money. They are largely uninteresting; we are bohemian.
As a result, we frighten them badly. They believe we are all gang members and drug dealers who want nothing more than to mug them and rape their women. (Okay, so I am rather violent and I do live across the street from a crack house. But Plano (way north) is the heroin capital of the US. (And I don't blame them. Who the hell wants to live in Plano whilst in a state of full consciousness?))
(I should note that there are some decent things about North Dallas and environs. But mostly, they are paralyzed with fear. When I say that I'm from Oak Cliff, (something of which I'm understandably proud,) people who already know me look terribly nervous and people who don't ask about my affiliations and then avoid me. People have been known to drop hundreds of dollars on cab rides out of fear of carjacking. It's crazy. Look at the aforementioned website and this should be obvious. The best analogy I can think of is Scotland to England, or better yet Montmartres to Paris.)
Oh look. Now the back door won't lock, nor will the shed, and it's about to storm. I should probably go help.
