Rob tries to marry the seemingly incompatible archetypes of Southern gentleman and indie rock aficionado together, which basically means listening to everything Jeff Tweedy has ever recorded. He frequently monopolizes jukeboxes while holding a craft brew or snobby bourbon and pontificating about the Astros. Rob is a recovering salesman, and his wife Michelle is a much better violinist that she would tell you. Together, they enjoy alternating in the role of sous chef for one another, and when they're tired of that, they gorge themselves at one of the many taquerias Houston has to offer.
Keeping the Feast: Robert Farrar Capon's The Supper of the Lamb
As new-school urbanists, locavores, and aspiring foodies grow in number, we can sometimes fall into the age-old delusion that we came to this place on our own, when in fact we’re standing on the shoulders of those who went before us.
Irony allows us an out in our personal lives. It also provides an armor when we explore unfamiliar or dangerous territory. Most of all, it maintains our cool. Hidden behind sunglasses, covered with a smirk, and swaddled in a snarky t-shirt, we cruise by unaffected and uninfected.
In the parable of the Good Samaritan, the core question being answered is “who is my neighbor?” But what happens when your neighbor is the thief?
Satire creates an outsized reality to expose a deeper truth; GCB creates and outsized reality in order to use up every cent of the set design and costuming budgets.
A well-selected soundtrack can elevate a meager narrative, ho-hum acting, or clunky dialogue. Listen closely.
I began to realize that everything I’d built up in the healthy years was a gift God might now be withdrawing. He’d kept the receipt, apparently.
Our desire for a front porch is threatening to overrule safe, smart thinking. We want to see our neighbors, and be seen by them.
These are dark days, friends. The mercury screams past 80 degrees, cackling as it goes, and we are without respite. How long, oh Lord, must we leave our lightweight fabrics in the closet? I’ve been thinking a lot about the article that Stephanie Gehring wrote here about dressing for Lent. It was challenging to examine […]
The family gathers at the home of the patriarch. Bitterness is in the air. The son-in-law is wounded. He’s suffered another in a series of emotional and physical assaults from the patriarch. The patriarch is firm; the assault was simply the younger man’s fault, he insists. His daughter finally coaxes an eye-rolling apology from him. […]
Sometimes it’s more important to listen to the music that needs listeners than the music that everyone listens to.
Hank Williams’s daughter, Jett, and a new collection of his music force a revaluation of the legend of “that lovesick blues boy.”
I’m completely relaxed. Why can’t I write?
Conversations with children can be like a time machine; in their words and attitudes, we often see ourselves backwards through the tunnel of time. We get to see our optimism and hope, ignorance and immaturity all in one under-sized package. Though we never get that oft wished-for chance impart crucial wisdom to our young selves, […]
A Curveball from the Hold Steady
Guest blog by Curator contributor Rob Hays. From time to time, out of the blue, you tune in to a favorite tv show, only to be surprised by a curveball: the Very Special Episode. What was once a light-hearted sitcom has elected to take on an important issue like addiction or abuse, and rather than […]
Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
As pitchers and catchers report in Arizona and Florida, a uniquely American season begins anew. The beauty of the sport of baseball has never been more poetically elegized than by former commissioner Bart Giamatti (you may know his son, Paul) in this essay, “The Green Fields of the Mind.” Play ball! It breaks your heart. […]
Holy Fiction: No Category, No Problem
Guest blog by Curator contributor Rob Hays. As music fans, we’re often asked to make comparisons and assign labels, often with the purpose of more narrowly defining our tastes and the attendant level of coolness we extract from them. Alterna-folk or lo-fi? Indie-noise or Art school punk? Too much like U2 or not enough like […]
A beloved tree grows in Houston.
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