Entry #67

Entry #67

Friday, May 11

9:00 a.m. We received a voting guide in the weekly paper, as well as a glossy flyer for a candidate named Larry Youngblood, a Tea Party conservative running for House of Representatives. His photo obviously says a lot about him: black leather vest, leather saddle, large gold ring (I’m guessing it’s from his alma mater, Texas A&M). His wife is cowgirl-casual, with just a few sequins across her shirt and a denim blazer. 

According to this flyer, Youngblood believes in eliminating “the meddling and incompetent intrusive Department of Education,” enforcing border patrol, and the marriage of church and state. According to him, “God’s word is the foundation of our Constitution.” Governor Perry would be proud.

The Voter’s Guide includes 15 pages of sample ballots and ads. Everyone, with the exception of two candidates, are Republicans. I have yet to see a single lawn sign promoting a democratic candidate anywhere in The Woodlands.

2:30 p.m. My cousin Micki came to visit for the afternoon from Dallas en route to seeing a friend in Houston. I picked the kids up from school and we went out for a late lunch to Hubbell & Hudson, near David’s office.

As we sat eating our sandwiches, Micki said, “This place seems very unnatural—there’s no spicyness.” She looked around at the people shopping and added, “I’d feel very suffocated [if I lived here], as though you can’t be your true self.”

I was amazed at how quickly Micki drew this impression. “It really is like The Truman Show,” she smiled. 

Micki is a native Texan who loves her home town of Dallas, and yet found the energy of this contrived suburban utopia to be altogether different from other parts of Texas. “It’s like those maps where you see the city from above, and every tree is placed in just the right spot.” She did like the waterway and Market Square though. What’s not to like? They’re lovely. It’s just that nothing feels quite real.

9:30 p.m. We just returned from my all-time favorite event of the kids’ school year—a music recital by students of Mike Heald, aka, Mr. Mike. For the first time I really noticed that this school is indeed an international one. It was refreshing to see such a multicultural mix of people.

The recital began with a performance of “Don’t Stop Believin’” sung by The Cotton Candy Band, a group of kids who’ve been practicing as a rock n’ roll group. The lead singer, a fifth grader, really knows how to belt out a tune!

There were 16 kids performing on the piano, though many of them were little girls playing a single, brief song, each dressed up as though they were going to a ball. Every performance was greeted with enthusiastic applause, which was incredibly heart-warming. Aidan was the second-to-last piano performer. He played a combination of songs, beginning with Fur Elise and ending with The Can-Can. The audience spontaneously started clapping to the latter, then gave Aidan an especially rousing applause. It was a great moment—I just hope Aidan will remember it as fondly as we will.

Following the piano performance were four violinists, and while none of them were painful to listen to, they did inspire David to say, “This makes you appreciate how hard violin is.” They did a great job as an ensemble, however, playing Pachelbel's Canon, while a preschool girl took turns conducting with Mr. Mike.

Noah’s friend, Tal, played a classical guitar piece for “11 minutes straight,” according to Aidan. He was astounding. One girl, whose electric guitar was nearly as big as she was, finished her piece, then started walking back to her seat holding the guitar, still connected to the cable.

What made this recital so great was not so much the performances, but the unconditionally supportive spirit that pervaded—no one winced at a wrong note or sudden brain freeze. We watched a dad recording his son’s first-ever piano performance—he was beaming. This spirit of complete acceptance, regardless of imperfections, is what made all the difference.

Saturday, May 12

9:00 p.m. Seems like afternoon bible study is ubiquitous around here. My across-the-street neighbor was chatting about needing a ride to bible study the other day. “I could’ve given you a ride if you needed one,” I offered, since I work from home. “Oh, my friend was going anyway,” she said. Another neighbor came by and mentioned that she'd just been at bible study herself. I guess it's a daily activity around here.


Last week David asked a co-worker whose son is on the same football team if she could give Aidan a ride home. “Well, my son has bible study after practice, so he might need to bring a book.” This area is called The Bible Belt for good reason. 

We went to Kat’s Guitars to pick up Noah’s guitar today. It's where Mr. Mike teaches when he's not at Esprit. Adjacent to the Kat's Guitars sign is a bigger one that reads: “All Pawn, Inc.: Guitars, Guns, Gold.” Sounds like a one-stop-shopping experience Texas-style. Perhaps they should consider opening up a sister store next door that sells banjos, beef and beer. Or perhaps pianos, pork and pick-ups, depending on your meat-and-music preferences.

Regardless of the name, this is a mighty cool place, with an amazing selection of guitars. I don’t even play guitar, and yet I was seriously thinking about it, just because the instruments were so alluring. Aidan picked up a floor model and started playing “Ironman.” I jokingly asked the salesman if it was against store policy to play this tired tune. “Naw, it’s okay,” he said. There was, however, a posted sign that read, “No Stairway to Heaven.”