After a Fashion
Your Style Avatar is grubbed, subbed, snubbed, and flubbed, which is a wee bit better than being grogged, sogged, snogged, and flogged
By Stephen MacMillan Moser, Fri., Oct. 22, 2010
GRUBBED We love our reunions here in Austin, don't we? We always seem to enjoy holing up with old friends and remembering another era. If you were around Austin in the late Seventies and early Eighties, you may remember whooping it up at Los Tres Bobos, a fashionable restaurant at the 26 Doors shopping center. It was a place to see and be seen and definitely the go-to place for luminaries and visiting royalty (Amanda Blake, the Cars, Dan Rather, Tommy Lee Jones, and thousands of others). If you worked at LTB, which seemed to employ approximately half of the punk rockers in town (or at least half of the Standing Waves, my sister says), it was a golden time of working hard and playing even harder, and probably drinking like damaged water buffalo. Thirty years later, LTB is having a reunion, putting out the call to all Bobos for Nov. 5 and 6. For more information contact Karyl Anderson Krug at [email protected], or visit www.lostresbobos.com.
SUBBED Woweee! How 'bout that Jennifer Borget (pronounced bore-ZHAY), the weekend anchor and reporter on News 8? Smart, savvy, and oh-so-pretty – it's almost like having your news delivered by Naomi Campbell. But ideally, Ms. Borget is not as dangerous to be around as Ms. Campbell.
SNUBBED I attended the Austin Museum of Art's La Dolce Vita fundraiser at Laguna Gloria last Thursday. I arrived with my trusty photographer Seabrook Jones. He checked in and was given an all-access wristband; I checked in and was told I was VIP until 6pm (it was nearly 5pm at the time). Suddenly I knew exactly how Cinderella must have felt. I suggested half-seriously to Seabrook that I simply wait in the car until he was done. Then Dana Friis-Hansen (aka AMOA's executive director and chief curator) walked in and gave me a hug. "Dana, can this be correct?" I asked him. He seemed puzzled and responded noncommittally. I said, "So is this the way that it is?" "I guess so," he responded. Feeling that the snub was now complete, I started to leave. Fortunately, my longtime friend (and major philanthropist) Larry Connelly arrived and rescued me from social indignity by giving me his extra VIP wristband. What a relief to know my pumpkin carriage would not disintegrate in an hour leaving me free to float between the various areas. Spending the bulk of the evening with Larry, Kevin Williamson, Kevin Smothers, and the lovely Michelle DeCrane, I shrugged off what seemed to be an initial snub to remember why this party is so great. Laguna Gloria is a local treasure – it would be hard to have a bad time there – and AMOA's devout supporters represent a truly amazing cross section of Austinites from simple art lovers to wealthy donors. Fab food, wine, flowers, and service – La Dolce Vita is exactly what the name implies.
FLUBBED Oct. 25 is my 53rd birthday – no big party this year, sorry! – and therefore the third anniversary of being told I had terminal cancer. Only two months later, I would hear that I had between six and nine months to live. Longtime readers will recall that I chose to decline treatment, not wanting to end my days with my body and soul butchered by modern medicine and deciding that if it was my time to go, then it was my time to go. I prepared to die peacefully at home with my loving family at my side. Needless to say, I did not die, even though I tried to by going off the deep end and acting like a juvenile delinquent. It just didn't work. Obviously. But I am spending my days with my loving family and coming to the realization that just because I was told I was going to die did not mean that I was actually going to die. Now that I'm not dying (or am I?) I've decided it is time to live again rather than spend my time in self-destructive suspended animation. Gardening and working in our yard like a man possessed has been extraordinarily gratifying. I simply pushed up the sleeves of my fur coat, took my bracelets off, and dug in. Watching life renewing itself through nature has been reaffirming, but I've still been missing something else – like something to believe in. Religion simply doesn't do it for me, but I think I've found something that does mean something. So, I have an announcement to make. Next week, that is. So hold tight to your bonnet strings, and tune in for our next installment.
