Glynda and her beloved partner, Peg Miller were co-owners of Chicago House, the fabled downtown coffee house and performance venue in Austin.
People shape us. It’s that simple really. Some do it by deeply influencing us. Some do it by staying in our lives. Some do it by watching over us. And some, like Peg and Glynda, do it by having a crazy idea like Chicago House and hosting a myriad of folks into their lives, everyday for years and years. Can you imagine? And through it all, these laughing angels Peg and Glynda, watched over us, made us laugh, kept us safe and generally shepherded many of us into adulthood.
Thank you, Peg and Glynda. I hope my kid is as lucky as me to land in some city in the world and find a place like Chicago House and be watched over by such kind (but slightly bawdy and raucous) women and be able to grow up safely away from me.
Thank you, Peg.
Thank you, Glynda. Now you really are an angel.
…you go to a gallery you have never heard of—Okay Mountain—and see absolutely no one you know. Not a soul. And this, in a town where I used to go out A LOT and knew at least fifty percent of the people at any restaurant, theatre or party. Still I forge ahead, pressing through the crowd to try and see the art because, well, that’s I’m there, right? I bump into one guy, in a hat, huddled with another guy, talking. The bump leads to apologies and looking in each other’s faces and then, suddenly there is one recognizable face in this sea of people, only it’s recognizable in a billboard, magazine, television kind of way. Startling really. To be completely adrift in the town I used to know so well and now the only person I recognize in a strange room full of strangers is Lance Armstrong. So odd. So very, very odd.
My latest Good Life Magazine Family column is on the stands.
I love that I got to write about my friend, Dianna Aston. I love writing my columns. I love that when I start to write it I never know exactly where it will go. I write the first line—I miss my friend Dianna Aston—and it’s like I have started the car and headed out on a drive. Only when I’m headed home do I know the title and how it will pertain to raising children.