Letters are posted as we receive them during the week, and before they are printed in the paper, so check back frequently to see new letters. If you'd like to send a letter to the editor, use this postmarks submission form, or email your letter directly to [email protected]. Thanks for your patience.

Louis,
    I've been thinking of you and the Chronicle and the South by Southwest family, and share in the shock [“SXSW Music Fest Creative Director Brent Grulke Dies,” Earache! Music blog, Aug. 13]. No matter the circumstances, death always seems to come as a surprise. I did not know that Brent Grulke and I shared a birth state, Nebraska, and moved to Austin in the same year, 1979! Through Luke and Gregory, I shared his enthusiasm for Doctor's Mob, the Reivers, Wild Seeds, and Austin music. What great memories I have of many SXSW “sign-ups” on Ruby's patio – every November – until online sign-up facilitated the process.
    Thinking of you and hope you are doing well. Whether you know it or not, you and the Chronicle help bind the community, Louis, and we thank you.

Dear Editor,
    I don't really know how I first met Brent Grulke, though I guess I'm not the only one who would say that. Austin was a much different place in the 80s. In my mind, it seems that I met a few of the Chronicle staff (Louis Black, Roland Swenson, Margaret Moser, and Brent) all around the same time [“SXSW Music Fest Creative Director Brent Grulke Dies,” Earache! Music blog, Aug. 13]. The earliest recollection I have is walking into a very cluttered, cramped, and tiny office, which I think was at 28th and Neches, probably the first office of the Chronicle.
    At that time, in Austin, if you were involved in music, film, theatre, dance, or art, you would inevitably run into the same people wherever you went, and I guess that's what happened with Brent. I knew that he liked music, and I'm sure I ran into him at one show or another, on occasion.
    When I began hosting Trendsetters on KUT, I tried to keep in touch with various people at the Chronicle. I believe that in order to keep any kind of "scene" alive, and to have it thrive, all media has to be involved. Periodically, if I was doing an interview with someone, or playing something special on the show, I would contact the Chronicle. In a relatively short time, Austin's free, weekly paper became the only thing to read if your world revolved around contemporary, or alternative, pop culture. Brent Grulke was a large part of making that happen.
    The strongest memory that I have of Brent is during a benefit at Liberty Lunch. I had been badgering the KUT management for several years to let me host a live show as part of our pledge drive. Eventually, they said OK. Of course, then I had to find bands that were willing to play for free.
   I also planned to record the show.
    Tim Kerr, of the Big Boys, was willing to loan me a Tascam Portastudio, an early 4-track cassette recorder. I was setting it up just before the show, and Brent came over to see if I knew what I was doing (which I clearly did not). I didn't know, until Brent told me, that although this was a 4-track machine, it would only record on two tracks at the same time. Brent knew this immediately. He was clearly unhappy, and frustrated, by my ignorance.
    After a few minutes of considering the options, Brent took matters into his own hands, and came up with a workable solution (one that I would have never thought of); he ran one line off the PA system on stage to one channel of the Portastudio, then hung a mic above the audience, about halfway between us and the stage into the other channel. It wouldn't be in stereo, but it would be live.
    Somehow, I had managed to convince five (or was it six?) bands to play for free: the Vertibeads, Black Spring (Melissa Cobb and Barry Shank's band, who were among the first to cover songs by Daniel Johnston), Doctor's Mob (who were particularly hot that night), the Texas Instruments, who had already received a cease-and-desist letter from the attorney of a particular tech company that was unhappy about their name, and Scratch Acid, in what became the only benefit they ever played.
    Later, I was able to take that tape into a studio, and use a different EQ on each channel, making it "fake stereo.” Moneywise, the show was a flop – no one wanted to pay the $5 fee to get in, and Liberty Lunch looked pretty sparse on that Sunday night. But thanks to Brent, I was able to make up for that when I aired the tapes on my show. We raised a fair amount of money that year. I still have those tapes, and I cherish them dearly.
    I think the last time I talked to Brent was after I started volunteering for South by Southwest. I needed to get some discs that were in his office, because I was helping to create the MP3s of the musicians that were playing. His office was stacked with literally thousands of CDs, cassettes, and vinyl. Later, we got to talk for a brief moment, and he was giddy over the 10-CD set of the Stooges that he got – the complete recording sessions for their first album.
    Brent Grulke's passion was music, and that is something I can certainly relate to. Like so many other people who helped create the Austin music scene, he was able to accomplish things that I have only dreamed of. To lose someone so dedicated, so rigorous in following his muse, is a great blow to Austin music. We will never be the same. There are not many people like Brent Grulke around any more.
    I know I am not alone in saying that he will be missed, and my heart goes out to his son, Graham, his wife, Kristen, and his family at the Chronicle, at SXSW, and in the world of music.

Dear Editor,
    The August 10 article “Steam Still Rising From STRs” [News] by Josh Rosenblatt was full of hot air. It was poorly researched, spent too much time talking with HomeAway reps, Council Member Chris Riley, and misquoted Susan Moffat in the last paragraph. His mischaracterization, using terms like xenophobia and paranoia, sounded like freshly-minted HomeAway propaganda.
    I have lived next door to a commercial short-term rental; it was not a party house, as some are, but I would prefer not to have unregulated, unsupervised lodging businesses replacing housing and residents in my neighborhood. There are many reasons why it is a bad idea to allow commercial STRs in neighborhoods. Cities with better governance have understood the negative impact on affordability created by CSTRs and acted accordingly. Riley and company just gave 3% of the single-family structures in the city to HomeAway, its competitors, and a group of investors to replace residents with CSTR house hotels. Reducing housing supply drives up demand, prices, and property taxes, as does attaching commercial revenue to residential property. Riley tossed out the Planning Commission’s two years of work, and replaced it with a CSTR business wish list. Riley also set no limit on the number of multifamily units that can be converted to CSTR use.
    HomeAway earns income by advertising CSTRs in neighborhoods, whether they are operating legally or not, and they hired Matt Curtis, Mayor Lee Leffingwell’s former aide, plus two attorneys from Brown McCarroll, to lobby the city during the last two years. Questionable actions occurred during this period, including blocking enforcement against STRs and the three-week delay of the filing of the Board of Adjustment decision against STRs during the period of the completion of HomeAway’s initial public offering.
    HomeAway is in the business of undermining residential zoning. The discord witnessed here has been sown broadly by HomeAway and its competitors. If you enjoy staying in a CSTR in a neighborhood, you should ask yourself whether you would want to live next door to one. Both of HomeAway’s founders live outside of the city and will not be subject to this ordinance, but they have spent a great deal of effort and money to insure that you might, and five members of the City Council were willing partners, Leffingwell, Riley, Bill Spelman, Sheryl Cole, and Mike Martinez. Riley has chosen to live Downtown in a commercial area; it’s curious that he has led the charge to allow a large number of commercial STRs in residential neighborhoods.

Dear Editor,
    My name is Glen Schmitt and my wife and I are in Austin for a meeting she attended at the university. Sadly only for a short time, as I've been very impressed by Austin and its big-city, small-town feel. That feeling was displayed by the restaurant we had dinner at recently – the reason for my note.
    First let me say I'm a disabled Vietnam vet – not bad – just knee issues, and I have trouble walking very far. The group my wife was meeting with had plans to all go to dinner at the Old Pecan Street Cafe on Trinity St. Downtown. Because I'm always aware of parking issues and how far I may have to walk, I called ahead to see if they had valet parking. I spoke to a young lady named Jen who told me they only valet on Thursday through Saturday and not on Wednesday. I asked about parking close and told her my concerns. She said parking close could be a problem at the hour we were coming. But here's the over-the-top service: She said she was parked in front but was leaving about 4:30 or 5pm, and they had a couple of cones they would put out in the very front to hold me a parking place. I said thank you and kind of laughed, thinking sure, some restaurant is going to do that for an out-of-town customer. I told my wife when she returned from her meeting and we decided to drive down and just see if I could find parking close enough for me to walk. As we turned the corner onto Trinity, much to my surprise, there were two cones saving me a parking place right in front of the door. Wow – to me that was customer service at its best.
    Customer service seems to be a dying thing across our country as we travel, from gas stations to airlines to hotels it seems not many people remember who the customer is. I'm in my 60s and trained old school about customer service. But I have to tell you this service, be it a small thing, was the best I've seen or even heard of in many years. I just wanted to thank Jen and the Old Pecan Cafe for the extra mile they took for a customer that probably won't have the opportunity to come back.
    On top of that the food was fantastic, the service great, it all made for a fun and wonderful dining experience in Austin.

Dear Editor,
    Michael Ventura has written as good or better than this week’s “A Jog in the Smog” [“Letters at 3AM,” Aug. 10], but this is the first time I have ever been moved to ask the Chronicle hierarchy to get one of his columns submitted for a Pulitzer. When Ventura isn’t off on some movie or musical existential rant, his stuff, as evidenced by this masterfully crafted column on the catastrophic devolvement of the American way of life, is far and away the best reading for people capable of critical thinking.

Dear Editor,
    Re: “Parks, Wildlife, and Racism” [News, Aug. 10]: Ms. Ruland has her facts wrong in the first sentence of her article. Texas game wardens do not provide law enforcement in the state's park system. State park police provide that coverage. Game wardens enforce the regulations protecting game and fish. They do not police state parks.

   [Patricia Ruland responds: It's a common misconception that game wardens just “enforce the regulations protecting game and fish.” The jurisdiction of Texas game wardens is the entire state, including parks, according to Sec. 11.019 of the Parks and Wildlife Code, which gives game wardens the “same powers, privileges, and immunities as peace officers coextensive with the boundaries of this state.” According to the TPWD website, game wardens “are responsible for enforcement of the Parks and Wildlife Code, all TPWD regulations, the Texas Penal Code and selected statutes and regulations applicable to clean air and water, hazardous materials and human health.” Yes, there is a TWPD state park police force; like the game wardens they often work with, they are fully commissioned to enforce the law of the land.]

Dear Editor,
    Austin Pets Alive! had free kittens recently. I am wondering, do we have any idea how many of them went out without being spayed/neutered?
    It is just easier to give away the kittens than to do the responsible thing and pass spay/neuter laws. It is just easier to not get your animal spay/neutered and take the kittens and puppies and dump them with APA!, Austin Animal Center, or out in the country. It is just easier to dump dogs and cats out in the country than it is to take them to the shelter. The shelter is out of the way, not open, or you have to fill out paperwork. Plus, the animals will probably be killed at the shelter. At least out in the country they have a chance – of getting hit by a car, killed by coyotes, or starving to death. Or, this is maybe not so easy but should not take long: go sit in the H-E-B/Walmart parking lot and give away kittens and puppies.
    We really don't need spay/neuter laws. Just take the easy way.

Dear Editor,
    Re: “We Need To Bring This Woman Home” [“Postmarks,” Aug. 10]: Re: "The Girl Who Met Robert Johnson" [Music, Aug. 3]: If anyone wants to organize a benefit for Shirley [Ratisseau], I'm in! I'll give time, energy, and what little money I can to help her. We need to let her know we want her home in Austin and we appreciate all she has done for Austin and the blues scene worldwide! When I left Minneapolis, Minn., in 1974 in a Volkswagen van with assorted others, I was fortunate to land in Austin because a friend of a friend wanted a ride back here. He was a blues musician named Sonny (wish I could remember his last name, whatever happened to him?) who stayed on the couch at Shirley’s house. She mentored and helped more than her share of musicians. Let’s help her now!

Dear Editor,
    I enjoy Marc Savlov's film reviews, but feel he was off the mark, by a half star at least, when it came to his review of Len Wiseman's Total Recall [Film Listings, Aug. 3]. True, the latest adaptation lacks the fun and goofy grotesqueness of Paul Verhoeven's 1990 Total Recall, and Wiseman's take is indeed out of scale with both Philip K. Dick and Verhoeven's stories – but the disproportion isn't due to a failure to address the original story's existentialism, it's because the movie is 90% muscled-up chase scenes.
    Neither PKD's short story nor Verhoeven's adaptation were about existentialism. The story is a metaphor of a crisis, but that crisis is midlife, not existential. Total Recall is a fantasy about escape from the drudgery of a menial existence and the boredom of a marriage. It panders to the lament of the aging male: "I could have been so much more." This underlying message is one of the few central elements found in both films and PKD's short story, and its summation isn't the existentialist "life isn't what it seems," but the masculinist "desire is greater than memory." On this central level, Wiseman's adaptation is a sound success, even if it is an action movie only posing as a science-fiction mind-bender. But then, that's what a midlife crisis is: a little vestigial adolescent discontentment pretending to be a major psycho-spiritual awakening. So maybe after all is said and done, Wiseman's take is a near-perfect marriage of form and content.