We just got back from California and it was a crazy trip. In fact, it was crazy before we packed the first bag. Just getting the vacation planned had been all kinds of crazy!
The Best Laid Plans
See, last year one of our nephews moved into a new home and had his first child. We were all geared up for a long weekend once our grand-nephew settled in. Then my mom went into the hospital and that meant all travel was on hold.
She was in and out of the hospital several times, but rehab was planned and Bill thought the care-giver needed a break. Everyone seemed to agree with him, so I re-planned the trip for nine days and bought our airfare – just a little too soon. Rehab turned into hospice and then a funeral.
I wasn’t much in the mood for travel, but Bill thought I needed a change of scenery, so I started trying to coordinate a date for new travel plans. However, the holidays were coming up and nothing worked. So, we postponed the trip until March.
Believe it or not, before we could get the trip planned, another game changer came along. A niece and grand-nephew from Egypt would be in California in June. So we postponed our travel plans to June and the trip grew to 11 days.
Does this sound familiar? Does this kind of thing happen in your family? Well, it got crazier.
The Heath Project
If you’ve been following my Friday posts, then you know that sometime in March we decided to start looking for a new home and that search turned into a building project in Heath. Since one thing always leads to another, we put our house on the market, thinking we might be lucky if someone bought it before the end of summer. So, of course, some one bought it, right before we were supposed to leave on vacation – but that’s for the Friday posts. Bottom line, even though it looked like something might undo our plans, right up to the phone call I got as we boarded our flight. We made it all the way to California!
Confession is Good for the Soul
I’ll just tell you right now, with all this planning and re-planning, more than one thing fell through the cracks. I double-booked myself into two hotels on one night, for instance. I packed way too much and ended up with an $85 extra bag fee for another. So travel stuff happens to the best of us. Come along with me and I’ll show you a good time over the next few weeks as I share my experiences – good and bad – with all my blogospere friends.
TRAVEL THERE: SAN ANTONIO’S MAJESTIC THEATER EARNS ITS NAME WITH A GLORIOUS NUTCRACKER
Here’s how I know Bill was bending over backwards to accommodate my wishes on our trip to San Antonio; he agreed to go to a ballet at the Majestic Theater. He played it really cool until afterwards, but then he made a post to Facebook that revealed the truth. He hadn’t been looking forward to it at all, but enjoyed it anyway.
Off to a Rough Start
We needed a bite to eat before the show, so we went to The County Line, a BBQ joint on the River, because it was close to our hotel and we were in a hurry. In our opinion, a BBQ joint is supposed to let you get a BBQ sandwich, but that only happens at lunch at The County Line. For dinner it’s a meat and two veggies kind of a place. Bill ordered a sliced brisket plate and I nibbled around the edges, but my mind was not on the brisket. WHERE WERE THE LUMINARIES?
Remember, I came to San Antonio because I wanted to see the River all dressed up for Christmas. Well, the weatherman threatened icy rain and sleet, so no luminaries were installed. The primary thing I came for didn’t happen at all.
And it was cold! And a stupid sign outside our hotel sent us an entire block out of our way. And did I mention it was cold. Bill was smart. He ignored the occasion and dressed warmly. By golly, I’d brought a special outfit for the theater and I was going to wear it, even if it killed me. Well, it didn’t kill me, but there was a danger of frostbite.
Majestic Lobby Warms up the Night
As soon as we hit the lobby, I knew we were someplace special. I had no idea of how gorgeous the theater itself was going to be, but the lobby was a knock-out.
We were on time. Our seats were good. And this had to be the most amazing theater I’d ever walked into. The pictures don’t begin to do it justice, but they’re all I have. Bill was wishing for more than his smartphone to capture the theater’s interior.
San Antonio’s Nutcracker
The Nutcracker was marvelous. I hope San Antonio will forgive me for being a bit of a Dallas snob. I assumed that a ballet by the San Antonio ballet and symphony might not stack up. It was charming with great dancers and great music. The sets and costumes were out of this world – but not quite as far out of this world as the theater. I’ll leave you with a few more shots. Hope you enjoy.
TRAVEL THERE: SOUTH TEXAS CHRISTMAS RAMBLE – WACO, AUSTIN, SAN ANTONIO & GALVESTON
Did you miss me last week? I missed being here, but not too much, because I was out having fun. For years I’ve wanted to visit San Antonio while the luminaries glowed on the Riverwalk. I finally headed that way and tacked Galveston’s Dickens on the Strand at the end of the trip. I didn’t know the North Pole would be traveling with us.
Rambling South
Having declared this a ramble, we did take it slow. Last Tuesday morning went like almost any morning at our house, except that my bags were packed and sitting next to the door. After my morning ride on the stationary bike, I made some breakfast and then headed for a bath. Meanwhile, my husband, the investor, checked on the market and made sure his trades were all properly lined up. About 10:30 we hit the road.
Waxahachie Drive Tour
First stop, Waxahachie. We were a few days early for the Gingerbread Tour of Homes, but thought we might take a sneak peek at some of the old Victorians all dressed up for Christmas. I’d found a copy of the tour map online and started putting Bill through his paces. He was very obedient, but by the fifth house we realized the effort wasn’t worth it. It’s the second time I’ve tried to do this and after this second fail we hightailed it back to I-35.
A Detour for the Love of Dr. Pepper
I had a wish list for Waco which included the Lee Lockwood Library, but they’re closed on Tuesdays, so we went to the Dr. Pepper Museum. This pilgrimage had been lurking for a while on my “to do” list, but the other times I’d tried to drop by failed for one reason or another.
I’m a Pepper. Are you a Pepper, too?
Now, if there ever was a Pepper, it’s me, so I was looking forward to the museum big time, but erase all thoughts of the CocaCola Museum in Atlanta out of your mind. Dr. Pepper doesn’t even come in a close second. Even a Pepper like me has to admit it. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go. Just pare down your expectations a bit.
The building housing the museum is where the beverage was originally served and then bottled. Since we were there on a mid-week afternoon in early December, we didn’t exactly have to fight any crowds. We paid our $8 per person (choke choke) admission and started poking around the place.
Long before Dr. Pepper was a soda fountain drink, Morrison’s Old Corner Drug Store was well known as the largest drug store in Texas. Cowpokes and railroad tracks converged in Waco creating a clientele for emporium’s soda fountain, but old Morrison, didn’t create Dr Pepper. One of his employees did. For a while, even though the drink was popular at the soda fountain, no one thought of bottling it. For one thing, soda fountains were all the rage and for another, bottling was an expensive process.
A la Madame Tussard’s, a wax replica of the man that did invent Dr Pepper greeted you in the original soda fountain area. He told you the history of Morrison’s Drug Store and that odd little beverage invented there. He also explained why the artisan wells in Waco made the bottling of Dr Pepper a possibility.
The reason I choked on the price of admission is because the majority of the museum is just a warehouse for Dr. Pepper ad media. Strolling through the first two floors is, for the most part, a review of the Dr Pepper marketing campaigns. Yes, there’s the original soda fountain and a room set up like the original bottling facility, but that’s pretty much all there is that has historical meaning for anyone except an ad executive. The third floor is devoted to Foots Clements. He’s a one time delivery truck driver who made his way through the ranks and then led the company for many years.
Remember this campaign? Have you ever actually drank it hot?
Several displays reminded me that 7Up is part of the Dr Pepper family, but what I found odd was that almost half of one floor was devoted to root beer. Root beer? I could never find the link between root beer and my favorite soda, but I did learn a few things about the whole frosty mug thing.
There’s a gift shop full of Dr Pepper t-shirts and commemorative bottles and then there’s a snack bar, where you can get a free sample of Dr Pepper products mixed the old soda fountain way. I’d have preferred a can. The sample didn’t taste quite right – but I bet when they started bottling Dr Pepper most people said they preferred what they were used to at the soda fountain.
The historical part of the museum
Should you go to the Dr Pepper Museum? Well, that depends. Are you a Pepper? If you’re a devoted drinker of the brand, then you will enjoy it. Are you a Baby Boomer? Then you’d probably enjoy the walk down the advertising memory lane. Are you majoring in marketing at one of our American universities or colleges. Then maybe you’d learn a few things. Otherwise, like my husband, you’d probably prefer to spend your time elsewhere.
TRAVEL HERE/TRAVEL THERE: SHOPPING IN DALLAS IN THE GOOD OLD DAYS
I hate to say it, but today’s mall rats don’t know from shopping. Drop me in any mall from sea to shining sea and what do you have? The same hundred-odd stores and fast food outlets they have in every other mall in America. (YAWN!)
My Memories of Shopping in Dallas
I live in Dallas where shopping centers were invented. (Well, not really, but kinda.) Forget Mall of the Americas, I shop at NorthPark! In days of yore, NorthPark only had three anchor stores: Neiman’s, Titches and J.C.Penney’s. and the other stores? Margo’s La Mode, Chandler’s Shoes, Continental Coiffures, The Carriage Shop…those were the days. We didn’t have a food court. We had El Fenix. Things have changed since then, but I’m still loving me some Northpark.
Back in the good old days, department stores had departments. I don’t mean you went to the men’s floor and then wandered from designer department to designer department to find a pair of navy slacks for your dad’s birthday. I mean you went to the men’s pants department and wandered through islands, seas and oceans of men’s pants. In fact, the pants department would be divided up into types of pants, so by looking on only two or three fixtures, you’d be able to tell whether they had any dressy navy blue pants in your dad’s size or not.
Shopping in Paris
I foresaw the disappearance of departments, as I knew them, before it actually happened. In the eighties I visited Paris. My trip was in December and the city was aglow with twinkling lights and snow. Galeries Lafayette, all decked out for the Christmas season, was astounding. I wandered around the store to my hearts content. As I made my way around the upper floors for my second or third time, I began to realize what was bugging me. I couldn’t find the blouse department.
See, as a twenty something career girl I didn’t have a lot of money, but I envisioned shrugging off my blazer at work one day and hearing someone say, “What a gorgeous blouse!” At that point I could have answered, “Oh, I picked it up in Paris.”
But Galleries Lafayette didn’t have a blouse department. They had blouses from many, many designers, but they were all spread out. I couldn’t just go to the blouse department, check out the markdowns in my size and see if I could afford any. To find out if there was a blouse in the store I could afford, I would have had to wander around all the different designer’s boutiques and handle the merchandise. The perfectly coiffed French-speaking clerks were entirely too intimidating. I went downstairs and bought a Christmas ornament instead.
Designer Departments Take Over
Back in Dallas I was only able to enjoy the blouse department for a little while longer – the designer departments were on their way. Now, if I want to go to the men’s department and see all the navy dress pants in one fail swoop, then I’m headed to either Walmart or Target. (BTW, I love Target, but that’s beside the point.)
I miss the old style department store. To begin with they had a sort of local flavor and were targeted more specifically to local needs. I also think that you were more likely to come up with an individualized look in a store where things were not pre-coordinated for you. I mean you don’t have to go all matchy-matchy to look pulled together.
Nowadays, things are entirely too homogenized. Sure Nordstrom’s has great service and a great selection of merchandise. I love Bistro N. But I still miss Titche-Goettinger. And I miss the blouse department, too. How about you?
Frequent visitors to my blog know I’m crazy for Neiman Marcus. It’s a touchstone for my beloved Dallas. I might be shopping in Atlanta’s NM, but I still feel right at home. I’m devoted to Neiman’s because it’s the only thing left from my childhood shopping experiences. Titche-Goettinger, Colbert-Volk and Sanger Harris all bit the dust.
My, How Things Have Changed
The transformation of the crisp turquoise-and-white-striped Titche-Goettinger bag into Dillard’s boring beige plastic thing was a disappointing retail slide for me. My mom went to work for Titches back in the 60’s. Along the way they merged with a San Antonio department store called Joske’s. I didn’t think Joske’s had near the eclat of Titche’s. For a few years, though they belonged to the same team, they each kept their own identity. Finally, the Joske’s name won out, but at least it was still a Texas name.
Then along came Dillard’s, an Arkansas company, and bought out Joske’s. I’d like to be able to say that I haven’t walked into the store since, but my mom retired with a 25% lifetime discount, so I’d be lying. However, I would be telling the truth if I told you I missed that department store with the turquoise-and-white-striped shopping bags.
For all those decades my mom worked at Titches/Joske’s/Dillard’s her main competition was Sanger-Harris, but it was a friendly competition. If we could buy it a mom’s store we would, but I had plenty of Sanger’s labels in my closet – especially stuff I’d bought at Red Apple days. The prices were so low you felt like they were paying you to carry merchandise home. Joske’s had EOM (end of month) markdowns that were often as drastic, but Red Apple Days just sounded like a lot more fun.
I had a grudging admiration for Sanger-Harris after Titche’s became Joske’s. I wouldn’t have mentioned it to mother, but I thought they were winning the retail war. Their stores seemed more upscale and their shopping bags were prettier. I especially liked the exterior of the stores. When you went to a mall Sanger’s always stood out, because they had gorgeous mosaic murals on the exterior. You didn’t have to be able to read to know you’d arrived.
Sadly, Sanger Harris eventually went the same route as Titches. First, they merged with a Houston retailer named Foley’s and ended up changing their name. Then Macy’s bought them out, and not too many years ago, at that. I remember visiting the Macy’s in Temple with my Aunt Edie shortly after the change-over. We agreed we liked Sanger Harris better.
DMA to Remember, Too
With all these pleasant Sanger-Harris memories it is no wonder that I’m excited about a new exhibit on it’s way to the Dallas Museum of Art. According to the latest issue of the museum’s member’s magazine, back in the 50’s a young VP of A. Harris & Company (which later merged with Sanger Brothers) commissioned an artist to create a series of paintings of Dallas. The paintings were exhibited at the DMA a couple of times in the fifties, but they haven’t been in Dallas since. Now they are coming back and will be presented with photos of my city taken at the time of the paintings.
Art, shopping and Dallas! That’s like three of my favorite things in the world! Why do you think I enjoyed the Jean Paul Gautier exhibit so much? Anyway, mark your calender for May 20th, because George Groz’s Impressions of Dallas is coming to the DMA. The name of the exhibit is “Flower of the Prairie” and you’ll be able to see it until August 19. And Macy’s, since you’ve gone to the trouble to sponsor this exhibition, all is forgiven. I’ll come spend some money there soon.
So you think Black Friday is a shopping experience? To me, it’s just a feeding frenzy. If Sam Walton has been successful at anything, it has been getting us to focus on price. I sort of liked the world better before Walmart.
The World Before Walmart
In those days price was certainly a factor, but it wasn’t the only factor. Designer names were guideposts, not a decoration plastered across the seat of a pair of sweat pants. Developing your own style was more important than being in style. In other words, going shopping was about more than consuming.
Wonderful, Wonderful Fortnight
A perfect example of this was Neiman Marcus Fortnight. During a two week period in the fall, Neiman’s would transform their Dallas stores into reasonable facsimiles of some exciting destination. The straw ornaments above are from Bavaria and were purchased in 1983 during the German Fortnight. D Magazine gives you the details of Fortnight, but I want to convey the experience.
For a middle-class kid living in Dallas in the Sixties, Fortnight was a window to the wider world. On a special evening, Mom would dress us up in the our best. The minute Dad got home from work he’d load us in the car and take us to Neiman’s flagship store in downtown Dallas – but it didn’t seem like a store at all. In fact, once I entered Neiman’s, I felt as if I’d stepped off a plane into a faraway place.
Granted, back in those days I’d never been on a plane, but I thought what was happening to me then must be just like arriving at a long awaited destination. See, Mom didn’t just dress us up and make us go shopping with her for the evening, she carefully primed us for the experience. All year we played a guessing game about what country Neiman’s might focus on for Fortnight. If the evening news mentioned a place we’d never heard of, we discussed why or why not it might be a good country for Neiman’s. As we studied our history and geography lessons, Mom would ask, “If this country were featured in a Neiman Marcus Fortnight, what products do you think would be stocked in the gourmet food department?”
In additon, Mother took us shopping at Neiman’s all year long, so we’d know the latest in fashion and appreciate quality. Then we’d go to Titche’s and buy our wardrobes with Mom’s employee discount. But a splashy ad in the Dallas Morning News Neiman’s would announce our Fortnight destination and I’d be giddy for weeks until our annual Fortnight visit was scheduled.
During Fortnight, we’d wander through the retail wonderland all agog. The ultimate treat was dinner at one of the NM cafes tricked out like the featured locale and serving their traditional fare. Along with many items from the featured country for sale, each floor of Neiman’s hosted special exhibits and demonstrations. We’d watch traditionally garbed dancers perform exotic dances. We’d see animals, artisans and actresses. Our family added very little to Neiman Marcus’s bottom line during this annual pilgrimage, but Fortnight was such a retail success, in spite of folks like us, that many stores attempted copy cat experiences. Yes, shopping was fun back in those days.
During the years I was busy going to school and living the disco scene, Neiman’s sort of fell off my radar. Then I became an official consumer with a credit rating. A Neiman Marcus charge card provided a plastic invitation to another world. Among the most important privileges offered was postal delivery of the famous Neiman Marcus Christmas Catalog with its legendary His and Hers gifts of opulence. Trust me, nothing on the internet can replace that catalog. The recipient of a gift, in the store’s traditional shiny red Christmas box with the gold Neiman Marcus logo, expected no additional wrapping paper and bows. Adulthood arrived when I received my own Neiman Marcus credit card.
I have to confess I did not inherit my parent’s frugality. I found it impossible to merely visit Fortnight and buy nothing but dinner. I went to the store as often as I could during those special two weeks to buy myself and others as many little treats as I thought I could get away with. Being at Fortnight was one of those particularly Dallas experiences, like visiting the Great State Fair of Texas or seeing the Christmas decorations on Beverly Drive.
Now Neiman Marcus has stores all over the world and they belong to some big corporation – not Mr. Nieman and Mr. Marcus. Most middle class kids in Dallas have flown somewhere before they reach their sixth birthday. Someone took Fortnight out of the Neiman Marcus budget, but I miss it.
I still have my Neiman Marcus credit card and it gets plenty of use. Neiman’s is my luxury store of choice. Having lunch at Neiman’s is one of my favorite indulgences. I will always love giving gifts wrapped in nothing but a Neiman’s logo. Nowadays I shop at Neiman’s and buy my wardrobe at the Allen Outlet Mall, because even though Mom retired with her discount intact, department store shopping isn’t as much fun as it used to be. Drat that Mr. Walton.
Update: This is by far the most popular post on my blog, so even though I have created Miscellaneous Jane for the purpose of offloading things from this blog, this post stays.
jane sadek 