Several months ago, with the help of some birthday luck, I found a fantastic new apartment. I may have mentioned something about a third floor all to myself and an adjoining, wrap-around roof terrace all to myself with a spectacular view of downtown. It became evident immediately upon moving in what I must do.
And so I started planning for New Years Eve, because clearly I had an opportunity to take advantage of - what with the famed San Antonio New Years Eve Downtown Fireworks Extravaganza and all.
My apartment building is located in Monte Vista - a historic neighborhood a few miles north of downtown and a few blocks from San Antonio College. Monte Vista proper (the twelve or so streets just north of mine) are a steady mix of humble bungalows juxtaposed with gigantic estates. It's very interesting. I presume the reason my block is full of large, former single-family houses converted into apartments, is the proximity to the college. My apartment is no exception.
As you can see - it's rather large and looming. There are nine apartments inside. Four each on the first and second floors, and then there's the roof...you can see just how sprawling it is.
I also have an emergency fire stair. Don't worry, it isn't the only way up. There is a lobby on the second floor and an interior staircase, but I love the thrill of going up and down these stairs, especially because it gives me the opportunity to say hello to my palm tree.
The roof terrace extends fifty feet across the width of the building and then wraps around my living room, just before terminating beyond into my bedroom window. I recently installed festive rail lighting. It had just rained at sunset when these photos were taken - check out the rainbow!
The view South, as noted - is of downtown. Photos do not do justice to our modest San Antone skyline. The tower lights up at night, and can also be seen from most of the windows inside.
But my favorite view is West at sunset. It's totally unobstructed and fantastic. Even with our winder days shortened, I attempt to make it home as often as possible for a meditative sunset indulgence.
Clearly - I had THE PLACE for a New Years Eve Party. Now, if only I could talk all my friends from places afar into coming to it. I really wanted to have a reunion of sorts - with my old Taliesin chums (Fred, Joe, Kevin, Darren The Canadian, Volkie and Ellie, Elizabeth, other Canadians Joy and Derrick, etc...) and lobbied endlessly for months to convince them that San Antonio was obviously where they should propel, full force into 2007.
To their credit, many of them toyed with the idea. But ultimately it was Julie, dear Julie - the only one who took the bait. And it was proper to show her a Texas-sized good time. I even worked through the day after Thanksgiving and Christmas Day so I could use those holidays while she was visiting instead of when society prescribed them, as to not only make certain she experienced the Birthplace of Texas Independence in all its glory, but also to take advantage of having her help prepare, co-host, and clean up the aforementioned New Years Eve Party.
So she arrived last Thursday and we had dinner at Josephine Street after I picked her up at the airport. We went home, settled in, poked at each other - just because we could, and braced ourselves for a rainy Friday.
The rain was unfortunate because normally a visitor's first day in San Antone should be spent stalking the Alamo among other tourist sites downtown. However, we decided to make the best use of our time by taking care of some shopping. But first, we headed up the road from mi casa to Taco Taco for their much celebrated "Best Breakfast Tacos in Town".
For those of you that don't know, Breakfast Tacos are freshly made corn or flour tortillas, folded in half, but not before first being filled with something breakfast-like and edible. Julie really enjoyed her greasy Chorizo de la Mexicanas, while I downed two of my usual - Potato and Egg tacos. She was particularly amused by our Everything's Bigger in Texas-sized waters.
We headed up to the Quarry Market where I showed Julie the store I used to work at, Whole Earth Provision Company. Then we hit up several other stores in the plaza mostly picking up party supplies, champagne flutes, additional festive string lighting, food and drinks, and the domestic milestone of a 30-gallon, flip-lid, stainless steel, kitchen garbage can which I needed desperately as would the party. It was funny that we repeatedly bumped into friends of mine as we tackled our errands. Though San Antonio is the 8th largest metropolitan area in the country, you'd be surprised what a small town it really is - everyone knows everyone and runs into them frequently in places you wouldn't expect.
That afternoon we walked a few blocks to my neighborhood gelado stand. Mmmm, hand-made Italian ice cream was a huge hit with the out-of-towner (especially since the perfect-for-ice-cream, temperature in the seventies was a refreshing reprieve from the harsh Chicagoan winter), but not nearly as big as our next stop: The Pinata Store! Just imagine a whole giant old house full of pinatas and cheap, colorful, Mexican imports. Julie bought some souvenirs and I purchased numerous party favors such as several silly hats, unraveling streamers, and no party in San Antonio would be complete without confetti-filled eggs.
We returned home and started willing away the rain, as there would be a High-Flying Downtown Bicycle Ride (or whatever it's called) that night. Julie had heard of our local biking adventures and really looked forward to experiencing one first hand. Of course we were determined to ride, either way and made for the diversion of happy hour. We headed to Southtown for Mojitos at Azuca Latin Cantina.
Vicki met us at the bar, where for the first time my worlds began to collide in a serious way. I pointed out to Julie that Vicki is the "Julie" of San Antonio, which perhaps endeared the two of them to one another in an awkward way. And then we downed a few mojitos before walking over to my favorite Mexican restaurant in town, El Mirador - home to the famous Potato Enchiladas and the Pollo Relleno - goat cheese stuffed chicken breast.
After filling ourselves with pure deliciousness, we temporarily parted ways with Vicki (she went home to snag her bike) and we headed up the street to Brian's house to borrow our bikes.
Alison Stapley, Brian's girlfriend was joined by her younger sister - a generally reserved and sheltered Lauren. It was great that she was feeling up to the ride. Also with us was Mark Jones who organizes the ride each month on the last Friday.
We headed over to the Alamo Plaza - decked out with drapy holiday lights - for staging and a short wait for the other riders to arrive.
The crowd gathers - a low turn out likely to the ominous cloud overhead. There were between 16-20 other riders.
We were also rejoined by Vicki who rode down from Monte Vista with Marc Toppel.
Julie's first glimpse at the Alamo!
At a quarter after 9 o'clock, we were off! Julie was riding my favorite red, vintage Schwinn road bike that went rather well with my brand new, red, vintage, Schwinn mountain bike that Brian/Vicki and crew bought for me for a whole dollar (!) at a police auction a month and a half ago. Brian had finally gotten around to making a few repairs so it was the inaugural ride on it for me.
Our group headed South through downtown and before we knew it we were entrenched within South San Antonio - a terrific forgotten and decaying portion of the city complete with abandoned breweries, packs of feral canines, and signage en Espanol. Muy Bueno.
An hour later, we had arrived at our ride's first pitstop - The closed-for-winter Mission Drive-In, which essentially is (at least this time of year) a vacant, walled, grassy lot. It was the perfect place to loiter without being noticed while sharing a few beers carefully stowed in our britches.
I can't express how great it was to have my three favorite gals together!
As if on cue, the rain we thought had been thwarted, was ominously upon us. Simultaneously, we headed back downtown and into a tremendous downpour.
When it got really bad, we convened beneath a highway overpass to decide what to do. One of our fellow riders - a kindly, older gentleman name Jack, invited us back to his house not far from our temporary refuge.
There, he offered us a bathroom, dry towels, a much coveted space heater, but especially home-made, abuelita hot cocoa (meaning it had hand-grated cinnamon). Julie - a connoisseur of hot chocolate noted that despite her lack of enthusiasm for Cinnamon added to anything, let alone hot chocolate - it was quite good.
As it got later, it became evident that the rain had no intention of stopping anytime soon. So we begrudgingly said farewell to the maker for fine hot cocoa and headed back to Brian's house, freezing, sopping wet, and unpleasant.
Sometime on the way back to Brian's, Alison mentioned while riding beside me what troopers both Julie and her sister had been - since, you know, they didn't know what they were getting themselves into at all. I agreed about her sister, but Julie is one tough cookie. After all, she did spent a summer hiking the Appalachian Trail from Northern Georgia to virtually NYC for the most part solo and recently ran a FIFTY mile marathon! She knows a little biking in the rain never hurt anyone. And the photo above serves as evidence for who was the real trooper: Vicki - who had desperately not wanted to bike that night for fear of biking in the rain. She looks almost as miserable as Julie is giddy.
Julie and Alison.
But soon enough, we abandoned our bikes at Brian's and ventured once more out into the rain - this time by car - my car. I dropped off Mark Jones at his car downtown and then proceeded to deliver Marc T and Vicki to their beds which were heaving of dryness, awaiting their arrivals. And soon enough, Julie and I, too passed out of exhaustion.
In the morning, we arose and I took Julie on a running tour of my neighborhood to see all the big houses with equally big trees. Julie is a runner, and I (having started my new year resolution a whole month earlier) am still more of a jogger. But we settled our differences by mostly walking anyway (because that's what I really like to call jogging) before returning home.
Since it was such a nice day, our obvious choice of activity for the afternoon was to head downtown for the SA tourism circuit.
But really, no downtown tour would have been complete without meeting Vicki at the offices of Lake|Flato architects, where I used to be employed as an architectural intern. Vicki was kind enough to let us distract her from her deadline as she showed off the projects she's been designing. I showed Julie my old desk, and kept muttering how much I missed it since starting my new job two months ago. It had been my first time back there since ending my internship.
The North Barrack wall of The Alamo with the Emily Morgan Hotel gothic tower peering over. The Alamo plaza was bustling with tourists- many more than expected, even for the holiday weekend. Apparently there was some kind of bowl game at the Alamodome or something. Julie and I were clearly more interested in the strange natural phenomena located at the park behind the Alamo. Yes - its a little known fact that the squirrels scampering about back there have unusually large scrotum sacks. (The boys, at least.) And Julie was much amused by this. Once again, I reminded her that EVERYTHING'S BIGGER IN TEXAS.
Our next stop was the San Antonio Riverwalk - the subterranean wonderland carved out below street-level upon the banks of the glorious and might, twelve-foot-wide, series of fountains we locals often refer to as, "The San Antonio River."
Julie took about a gazillion pictures and insisted I be patient with her scholarly examination of the area. She's on the verge of receiving her Master's Degree in Landscape Architecture and first learned about the Riverwalk in her L.A. history class as an example of successful and intimate urban space.
The circular scheme that Julie was sitting upon and then walking away from, was actually designed by Lake|Flato as part of their International Center project.
The Hilton Riverwalk Hotel was one of the first pre-fabricated modular buildings executed. 
Boudros Texas Bistro - home to the finest table-side guacamole in town was very too busy for us to indulge, as were the riverboat tours...
Before the big game let out, Julie and I found a less busy, but far too swanky Riverwalk bar and restaurant - Acenar. Later we met up with Matt Wallace, San Antone's least favorite resident but still amicable enough to inspire an old fashion dive-bar hop. We walked from his house in Southtown to La Tuna where we were met by Vicki and Brian Comeaux. Julie and I told my former co-workers of our adventures living with fellow-Frank Lloyd Wright enthusiasts. Then we proceeded to Bar America where the jukebox plays only six tunes: Patsy Cline's "Crazy", Willie Nelson's "On the Road Again", a few Tejano songs, and an old German polka.
The next day was full of preparations. After running a few morning errands to pick up more snacks, beer, champagne, ice, etc., we rushed about cleaning my house, cooking treats, shining stemware, decorating, arranging chairs, and borrowing coolers from friends because we didn't think beforehand where we would keep seven bags of ice cold until guests arrived (and all night for that matter).
I even assembled a "Star Drop" for the final countdown 2007.
Before we could even take a quick power nap, party time was upon us!
I should mention that the dress code for the evening was quite specific: guests must don a wacky hat or wig. I was eager to see if anyone was going to oblige this silly, yet simple request.
Marc and Nina Wilson were the first to arrive after Victoria, who lives in the apartment below mine. The three of them were provided the few extra items of headwear I had bought, just in case one of my guests would fail me.
Julie added a shimmering accoutrement to my new year's crown.
More friends began to pour in - also with vacant heads.
Nicolette Sheridan got the memo. Thanks Nico!
Megan, Desiree, and Nicole - all with well-styled actual hair. Very disappointing...
Blake Dublin with his girlfriend Ally - looking good, but no headware.
Heather Weiler and Jeremy Fields - sporting excellent fleece toppers.
Everyone having a swell time in the kitchen, but lacking the headgear (the exception being pirate Victoria).
Juan Carlos Gonzales (who took some of the better quality photos of the evening with his fancy camera) also wears a delicate headpiece. JC is a very talented local artist.
Jules wears a lovely knitted cap that matches his heirloom goblet necklace.
Lindsay and Keenan - bare heads, I'm afraid.
Myself with gallery curator and photographer Justin Parr. Nice job on the hat. brother.
John Byrd sans hat, the Feilers, and Matty "MDub" Wallace wearing a scarf that makes up for his lack of hat.
MDub.
Steven with his girlfriend who I'll call Casey - both graced with fine expressions of hat-ness.
Steven gets extra points for having a completely different hat in this picture.
Steven with Keenan.
The Fleegers - Matt & Crystal.
This is a good group shot - Mark Jones, Nina Wilson, Me, Alison, Brian Langner, Jackie Scialdo, and Marc Toppel - all having a great time, though in various stages of hat-ness.
At 11:30pm we - between 40-50 of us - gathered on the terrace to await the downtown fireworks show scheduled for midnight.
Some braced themselves upon the actual roof - which really was the sweetest spot.
About a quarter 'til midnight the entire horizon was set ablaze with fireworks stretching as far as the eye could see. It was probably one of the most impressive displays of celebration I have ever seen as the night's sky ignited in a massive, simultaneous, conflagration of festive cheer! It was extraordinary...pictures couldn't even try to do it justice.
And at the stroke of midnight, the Star dropped into 2007 - wow, we're really getting up there. Streamers were cast into the air and confetti-filled eggs suddenly seemed like a really terrible idea.
However.
The fireworks from downtown off the tower were spectacular, but felt rather underwhelming compared with the South and West sides of the city bubbling with them. They did, otherwise, culminate with a finale that, in my slightly inebriated state, led me to imagine the Tower of the America's taking off like a rocket into the starry firmament. We were all breath-taken with amazement.
The night's only casualty was a champagne bottle that accidentally rolled off the terrace. This had been one of my biggest worries, God forbid a bottle fall three stories onto someone's car, or worse, on someone... But disaster averted itself magically and the bottle merely fell a foot from a car parked beneath! WHEW! (By the way, I deliberated over this issue for weeks and figured that whatever risks were involved, bottles were a far better idea than, say, lugging a 100 lb. keg up three flights of stairs. And then back down the next morning? I think we'll stick to bottles).
At some point the party began to wind down, but first Julie and Alison, among others, began to further decorate the host's hat, which had been taunting everyone (at least in this blog) regarding their hats or lack there of.
Oh, and did I mention that this was a party that promoted safe promiscuous sex? Clearly the hat should be no exception.
There were streamers too.
As people safely exited down the fire escape from whence they came, a bunch of whoever was left decided to head over three blocks to the Connelly's house, who were hosting a rival new year's eve hot tub party. That's right - Brian and Cara Connelly are Hot Tub People.
Cara and I danced later. But we didn't hot tub it. No, I'm not that kind of guy.
Then circa 3:30-4amish Brian L, Mark J, Alison, Julie and I acquired one last bottle of champagne and delighted in it's bountiful splendor beside the furnace in my living room. Then the world turned dark as my eyelids rebelled the notion of remaining open any longer.
Around the first noon of the new year, Julie and I arose to The AFTERMATH:
The sun shone piercingly bright out on the terrace which was covered in bottle caps, cigarette butts, streamers, and millions of colorful confetti bits.
There were empty bottles scattered about everywhere.
The carpet (well everything really, but the carpet was ridiculous) was drenched with the damn confetti.
And the stardrop looked more hungover then we were.
Julie and I spent the better part of the next EIGHT HOURS cleaning up, between several loads of laundry, and collapsing haphazardly upon the nearest soft horizontal surface every twenty minutes or so.
Later in the day, we went over to my friend Kristen & Clay's (Clay is a yuppie redneck - he's pretty great) house for some good home cooking and football. Julie and I don't watch much television so the opportunity to dissolve into a mindless stupor was especially fulfilling with our bodies moving about unenthusiastically as it were.
That night we took it easy, watching Little Miss Sunshine, which I certainly found less of a disappointment on second viewing (Yeah, I actually didn't care for the movie when I saw it in theaters - I just didn't find it that smart!) I at least rescinded the nickname, "Little Miss Disappointment" that I had given it previously. The ending is quite entertaining, and the soundtrack by DeVotchKa completely rocks.
The next day would be Julie's last and there was alot to show her that we just hadn't gotten to yet.
We went for breakfast at the Guenther House for freshly-made-flour-straight-from-the-mill pancakes. Their pancake special that morning was pecan pancakes which we both ordered. I particularly enjoyed saying the phrase pecan pancakes because having lived in the Southeast for so long, its tempting to pronounce them as, "pecaaaans". Instead, I make special effort to say, "pecahns", which is especially amusing to say when attached to the word pancakes.
Anyway, after a quick driving tour of King William district, we headed to my office just down the street to show Julie my desk and to pick up my paycheck! It's entertaining that my firm is called Alamo Architects, eh?
Then I took Julie to the Pearl Brewery, which is an industrial complex now being transformed (with the help of Lake|Flato among other local firms) into a mixed-use urban village. I thought Julie would admire the use of their sustainable landscaping techniques such as utilizing old beer-making cauldrons to harvest water onsite for reuse in the irrigation systems.
Then I took Julie up to the McNay Art Museum - a collection of one wealthy local woman's obsession with modern art. Its actually quite impressive, as is her former house which houses the collection.
I really like the Japanese pond, and explained to Julie how I used to come to the spot when I first moved to San Antonio and had nothing better to do than adhere to a daily practice of meditation.
She's totally mocking me.
After wandering about for a bit, I insisted we rest in a window sill with great natural light pouring in us as we chatted about Georgia O'Keeffe-y things.
From there we headed over to Cathedral Park, where I tried give Julie a tour of the springs and the riparian system present within the flood basin. But, the springs weren't running and the gate to the rest of the nature sanctuary were locked. So, we went to Whole Foods, got a snack (I'm addicted to their Holiday Squash & Corn Chowder), and deposited my paycheck at the bank inside. I also got some change for our next activity - a San Antonio favorite.
I LOVE the do-it-yourself carwashes that as prevalent in this city. It's kind of like playing a video game, just in chore form. I've often mentioned this to Julie. You have these different tasks (high pressure rinse, foaming brush, foam conditioner, wax, etc...)that you need to complete consecutively, and different buttons are pushed to activate each one, using a different mechanism (the spray, brush, foam gun), and all before the time runs out. However, you can always put in more quarters from your stack to add more time, as long as this is accomplished before the clock hits zero seconds.
Julie demonstrates the foaming brush.
High pressure rinse.
Triple foam conditioner.
High pressure wax.
Oh No! Time's running out!
Then we headed over to Brackenridge Park to ride the Kiddie Train.
In addition to noticing just how too cold it was for us to be riding the train, we also made love to the camera.
The zoo gift shop.
Our last stop on our adventure-filled day was to the Japanese Sunken Gardens, which is kind of a nice garden, although terribly inauthentic in it's Japaneseness because it's quite whimsical, but whatever.
An hour later Mark Jones picked us up at my house to do a little reconnaissance for the San Antonio Current - the weekly things-to-do-around-town periodical. He was to write a bar review and discovered an underground tavern for us to explore. The place was situated between a liquor store and what might have been a strip club on the St. Mary's strip just Southeast of where I live.
The only thing was that the place was really less of a bar and more of a home-brewing supply emporium with all kinds of packaged supplies for home beer manufacturing. They did have a bar too, but with maybe three premium brews on tap. Mark bought us a round. There was a dog and few of what looked like friends or family members of the owner. Marc asked some questions about his establishment and tried to inquire a little about the beer-making process, but the owner was too busy and seemed to wonder what in the hell we were doing there.
The place was only open until 7pm, which, although not too amicable for maintaining evening drinking regulars, worked out fine because we had to take off anyway and meet Vicki, Alison, and Brian for dinner at the Liberty Bar.
The restaurant is without question a San Antonio landmark and my favorite eatery in town. The building is about 115 years old and looks every minute of it with its walls cattywampus and leaning in directions they shouldn't be. The food is evoking of the essence that is San Antonio - simple and authentic with a dash of wonder and spice to keep you thinking about it 'til your next visit. I saved the Liberty Bar until Julie's last night for this reason.
And then early the next morning (AND I MEAN EARLY) Julie took off for Chicago. And like that she was gone.
It's not fair that I have to live so far away from one of my top five favorite people of all time, but it's nice that since living together for a year and then not living together since, we still share an ever-strengthening mutual fondness. I'm glad that I finally got to share with Julie my life in what has become my adoptive home.
Perhaps if I'm lucky more of my friends from all over will be beckoned by the spell of Texas. Just think - this blog could be you, just delete the word Julie and insert your name*. It's that easy. It could be fun...
*Roof terrace available for a limited time only.
