Those old-style Texans sure knew how to keep the whimsy in architecture. It is easy enough to ignore the spectacularly ugly Hyatt and Marriott because there are so many other visual feasts of brick, stucco and tile.
Today, after my presentation (more on that later), I followed the River Walk south and quickly got out of the Texas "theme park" clutter of souvenir t-shirt shops and Mexican restaurants (In one, I ate the WORST Mexican food I've had in my life. I mean, how to do they screw up chips and salsa? Well, this place did. Okay, bitching over).
A little south of the main downtown area is the King William Historic District where the trees are big and leafy and the homes big and southern and slightly demented in their size and homage to Europe. Italian meets Greek meets German meets Texas moneyman.
The River Walk becomes double fun when you look up from the water and spot evidence of an architect who had a swell time designing pillars.
Texans take their justice seriously and are known for their intimidating county buildings and courthouses.
To get out of the hot sun -- must have hit 85 today -- I headed into the San Fernando Cathedral, shut my eyes and listened to my breathing. Okay, I kept peeking out at this amazing gilted Jesus.
On a busy corner sits a landmark. William Sydney Porter -- O. Henry --lived in this ramshackle
place and set several of his 400-plus short stories in San Antonio--before he moved to Austin and was busted for embezzling. I love O. Henry, even though his reputation isn't so stellar among serious literary folks. I love his wit and wordplay and those twisty endings that are criticized for being corny and not like real life. But who says? From my experience, life hands out one corny twist after another.
In the conference today, I was asked for my literary favorites and mentioned a handful -- Flannery and Raymond, usual suspects. I also threw in the author of Nancy Drew, the series that got me reading in the first place as a kid. I want to go on record here paying homage to O Henry. Oh boy, when that last leaf stayed on the tree, I knew what writing could do.
Today, after my presentation (more on that later), I followed the River Walk south and quickly got out of the Texas "theme park" clutter of souvenir t-shirt shops and Mexican restaurants (In one, I ate the WORST Mexican food I've had in my life. I mean, how to do they screw up chips and salsa? Well, this place did. Okay, bitching over).
A little south of the main downtown area is the King William Historic District where the trees are big and leafy and the homes big and southern and slightly demented in their size and homage to Europe. Italian meets Greek meets German meets Texas moneyman.The River Walk becomes double fun when you look up from the water and spot evidence of an architect who had a swell time designing pillars.
Texans take their justice seriously and are known for their intimidating county buildings and courthouses.
To get out of the hot sun -- must have hit 85 today -- I headed into the San Fernando Cathedral, shut my eyes and listened to my breathing. Okay, I kept peeking out at this amazing gilted Jesus.
On a busy corner sits a landmark. William Sydney Porter -- O. Henry --lived in this ramshackle
place and set several of his 400-plus short stories in San Antonio--before he moved to Austin and was busted for embezzling. I love O. Henry, even though his reputation isn't so stellar among serious literary folks. I love his wit and wordplay and those twisty endings that are criticized for being corny and not like real life. But who says? From my experience, life hands out one corny twist after another.In the conference today, I was asked for my literary favorites and mentioned a handful -- Flannery and Raymond, usual suspects. I also threw in the author of Nancy Drew, the series that got me reading in the first place as a kid. I want to go on record here paying homage to O Henry. Oh boy, when that last leaf stayed on the tree, I knew what writing could do.
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