Chamber Music 11/19/11

Column appears in The Pampa News 11/19/2011

"You talkin' to ME?"

There have been some significant changes in wireless communications in Pampa lately. To begin with, AT&T Mobility has a brand new look. (That's the store at the "Y" where Perryton Parkway splits from Hobart.) The Goldcoats were in attendance this week as manager Kristy Powell cut the ribbon on the "new" store. Kristy started her career with Dobson Cellular and stayed as they were absorbed by AT&T. She explained that until the recent redo, the building had the "Dobson" look and AT&T wanted a change to represent their corporate image. The store is very impressive and well arranged, and the staff is friendly and knowledgeable. They can set you up with what you need in wireless communications.

The other big change is with their major competitor--Verizon. A lot of people may not realize that until recently there were two "Verizon" stores...and if they did, they didn't know why. Part of it has to do with the mergers and buyouts amongst cellular companies. The upshot was that the Verizon corporation had a store here, and Communication Connection--which operates several franchise stores in the region--did too. Last month, however, the corporate store ceased local operations. The franchise store has moved into the former—and much larger--corporate site, giving them more room inside, more parking, and sharper curb appeal without having to change the sign!

Incidentally, cell phones are so common now that I'll bet one in ten users can't say why they are called "cell" phones. (And no, it has nothing to do with the brouhaha caused by state prisoners getting access to them several years ago!) The reason is that they operate in "cells"--geographical areas that can be serviced by a single tower. Most cellular communication is pretty seamless now, but it wasn't always the case...in some places now, it's still pretty "cellular".

NOT THE SAME OLD SONG AND DANCE

Once again the deadline caught me--I am working on this column during intermission of "Beauty and the Beast", this year's performance by the PHS choir. There are so many superlatives I could use for these productions but they all fall short. What absolutely astounds me is the breadth and the depth of the talent. Any high school of this size will have a kid or two who really excels, but quality and quantity here is phenomenal.

As I was writing this, Jona Smith came over to greet us and chat for a bit. Her daughter, she informed us, is a plate. (No metaphor here. If you know the story you understand.) She agreed that there was a lot of talent and that the performance was awesome, but commented, "Of course, I'm prejudiced."

"That's just it," I countered, "I'm not." I didn't know a single performer. I'm sure I know the parents of some, but I didn't go to "support the kids". That's a great reason to go, but I had much more selfish reasons than that--I went to be entertained. And I was NOT disappointed.

Well, that's not quite true. I am always a little stunned that there is not standing room only at these performances. We cheer for the Harvesters win or lose. These young folks—also Harvesters--have worked hard and are definitely winners. If you read this in a timely fashion, you likely have a few opportunities left to see the performance. Saturday and Sunday matinees at 2:30, and a final performance on Monday at 7:30 pm.

NEW DIGS! FINALLY!

We have been working on a revamped webpage for a long time, and it gives me ecstatic pleasure to announce that it’s HERE! Same address—www.pampachamber.com—but a whole new look. One feature is that this column will appear regularly in the “blog”. So if you’ve ever want to say “Weaver, you’re an idiot!”, here’s your chance!

WHATS IN A NAME...

At the AT&T Goldcoating, I met the regional manager, a nice lady named Cristy Sea. I have known Seaborns (and Seabourns), Sealys, Seewards, Serights, Seabolds, am familiar with See's Candies, and even remember Jonathan Livingston Seagull, but I don't think I've ever met a "Sea". I'll have to do some thinking about where to plug that name in.

If you were reading a story about a wealthy East Coast politician and his valet, and the author had given the valet the name of "Prettyman", you'd probably think he had made it up. That was the real name, however, of FDR's valet. And did you know that the President rode to address Congress on December 8 in a car once owned by Al Capone? The Treasury Department had confiscated it and since it had bullet-proof windows, the Secret Service acquired it after Pearl Harbor. It was okay...Al wasn't going anywhere!

Chamber Music 11-12-11

(This column first appeared in The Pampa News)

Mulligan!

I don't always read my column when it comes out in print, but I was glad I did last week--I came across much more negative than I intended to be. I ran out of space, so I had to rush my point. My intention was not to disparage the nameless town, but to use it as an object lesson for anyone who is in business: there's not much point in spending a lot of time, money, or effort to get a customer or client if you're going to treat them poorly in person.

Oh, Kay!

I was sitting in a meeting this week when someone mentioned "Kay Giarro". I had not heard of the person addressed, and neither had anyone else, judging by the quizzical expressions on their faces.

 "Who?" someone asked.

"Kay Giarro" was the response.

"Who is Kay Giarro?"

"You know...the radio station. K G R O!"

  

Wedding Punch

Daughter Anne and I attended the Texas Book Festival in Austin a few weeks ago. As we we're leaving the event we chanced to walk by Central Christian Church where some men and a young boy were trying to get in--obviously for a wedding, as the men were all dressed in matching attire. What caught my eye, however, was the box the boy was carrying--Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots! I couldn't figure out why he had them. It would hardly be appropriate for a wedding gift, and I couldn't imagine that he was bringing them to keep himself occupied during the service.

I paused and asked, "You fellows going to a wedding?" The oldest--a guy about my age--impatiently affirmed that they were. I pointed to the boy's box and said, "I was just wondering. The rock 'em sock 'em stuff usually starts AFTER the wedding."

The man gave me a strange look for just a moment before he heartily laughed and agreed.

Good Marx

It was certainly disappointing news this week to learn of Johnnie Marx's stroke. There are no finer folks anywhere than Bob and Johnnie. Bob called as I was putting the finishing touches on this column. Johnnie has regained some movement in her right side, and has begun therapy. We are remaining optimistic. Hang in there, Bob and Johnnie. We're pulling and praying for you!

Out of the Files

When I started this column, I intended to actually bring music into the discussion once in a while. Usually there’s just too much local stuff to talk about, but I’m a little short of material, so I’ll comment on something that occurred to me yeas ago. At the time there was a popular country song called “Heads Carolina” about a couple who has grown tired of their sedentary life and need to get away. The singer suggests they flip a coin to determine which way they’ll go. It’s a good song and I like it—I think once in a while we all feel like chucking it for “somewhere greener, somewhere warmer”.

What cracks me up about the song, however, is when she’s considering places to go. She says (or sings), “I’ve got people in Boston. Ain’t your Daddy still in Des Moines?” Okay, Boston I can see. Maybe. But going to see my in-laws in Des Moines? DES MOINES?! 

Get this picture. Here is a nice young man who loves his wife very much. They’ve had some tough times, and now she wants to get away from it all with him. He loves her spontaneity. He gets excited thinking about hitting the road. He has already been mentally packing his bags—swim trunks, Hawaiian shirts, sun screen. He is reaching in his pocket for the quarter when she says. “I know! We can go see your Daddy in Des Moines!”

He releases his grip on the quarter, dumps the mental suitcase, and reaches for the remote. He’s not going anywhere!