Back in the day there used to be a long running b-movie fest that took place every summer called NOWFF, the New Orleans Worst Film Festival. This proved advantageous for us B-Fest attendees, since two events a year obviously allowed for much more face time than one event a year. However, NOWFF eventually bit the dust (before Katrina, I should note), leaving us somewhat stranded.
Then Chris Holland of Stomp Tokyo moved to Texas (Austin, to be precise), where Freeman “Dr. Freex” Williams already resided (Houston). Meanwhile, I had been e-conversing with Sandy “Call of Cthulhu” Petersen, who had been kind enough to fill in several of my myriad intellectual gaps on any number of subjects mentioned in one review or other.
Sandy lived in Dallas, and it seemed like a good idea to try to match forces. Given the then more recent demise of NOWFF, it was decided to mount our own replacement event, which we dubbed T-Fest; ‘T’ being for Texas. The first year we rented a hotel conference room (pretty much on Sandy’s dime, it should be noted) and had maybe a dozen people show up. After that, Sandy offered up the screening room at the gaming company he works for. On the weekend the building is locked down and nice and secure, and we pretty much have the run of things. We’ve made our home there since. The company will be moving itself before next summer, so we’ll see how look in 2009.
T-Fest 2008 was a great year, save for one very unfortunate fact. Chris Holland finally had to throw in the towel in terms of attending this year, due to work and family obligations. Chris shares with Sandy the majority of the traditionally) eight movie slots we have; happily, they’ve offered me the other two over the years. I have to say, at this point the thing runs itself, more or less, and frankly between Chris, Sandy and I, we could each of us schedule a more than satisfactory day’s line-up just by grabbing stuff off our personal DVD shelves.
In any case, Chris had previously already made his selections. Sadly, one couldn’t be found, another I thought I had but couldn’t locate before I left for Houston, and the last he planned to send along but didn’t arrive before the event. Sorry, my friend. We’ll see which, if any, of the films Chris planned to show we see next year. Of course, the important thing is to have the man himself back. In any case, hopefully we’ll see him in January at B-Fest.
Aside from his feature selections, Chris generally provides the shorts. This year we hence cut down on those quite a bit, although we did show a couple. I had brought a burned DVD with Italian Spiderman episodes, but sadly that wouldn’t play on the available DVD player. This didn’t prove much of a handicap, although we look forward to the return of Dr. Tran and that Lapland short next year.
Down Texas Way
In the past, I’ve foisted myself on the generosity of Sandy and his amazingly pleasant family whenever I travel down there. In an effort not to overstay my welcome more than necessary, this year I took up the longstanding invitation of Kirk and Patty Draut to come visit them. They live in Houston, and I arrived there the Wednesday before the show.
Kirk picked me up at the airport, and soon I was at Casa de Draut. Patty arrived soon after, although in the meantime Kirk was kind enough to take me to get my hair cut. I had been having car trouble for a few days before I left, and thus couldn’t get any errands done as I had planned. (Picking up the car at the dealer upon my return, I happily learned it was just a dying battery, and that moreover the replacement was covered by my warranty. Whew!)
There I met several extremely friendly cats (two of them being as well quite, uhm, large), as well as their charming daughters Ashley and Grace. Grace had just that day signed up to join the U.S. Navy, and will be attending Basic at Great Lakes later this year. We had several conversations in the time I was there—I was a Navy reservist back in the ’80s—and I have to say that Grace has put serious thought into exactly what her plans are in that regard. I have no doubt she will prove a great asset to the Navy and serve her country with distinction.
The next day Kirk decided to share with me some uniquely Texas experiences. A barbequing enthusiast, as they only raise them in the Lone Star State, he first took me to the Gator Pit, a company run by his friend Ritch Robin. Ritch greeted Kirk by showing him his new Springfield Armory 1911A, a form of welcome not usually seen in Illinois (worse the luck). It was a very nice item.
At the Gator Pit they hand fashion from the ground up an array of simply amazing and often humongous grills for clients ranging from Budweiser to the U.S. Navy. Here’s a pic of, admittedly, an atypically extreme example.
As someone who can’t drive a nail properly, it’s always amazing to be around guys who can actually make things. Frankly, the Gator Pit struck me as the best of America, where people who really love doing something can make a living at it. It’s hard to imagine a greater blessing than positively loving your job. Certainly if I were a serious griller I’d buy one of their (smaller) units in heartbeat.
Following that, we headed downtown to the Houston Public Library. Kirk’s father is Joel Draut, the Photograph Archivist for the Houston Metropolitan Research Center at the Houston Public Library. (Thus solving the mystery of where Kirk got his love of photography.) As such, the courtly Mr. Draut he was a font of incredibly interesting knowledge of Houston history, and took us on a fascinating tour of the Center and its archive holdings. He then bought me my lunch, which under the circumstances seemed a bit beyond the call of duty. Like Ritch Robin, Mr. Draut clearly was a man lucky enough to make his living doing what he loved.
That night Kirk grilled up some dogs and burgers (my heavily charred, per my preference), and then he, Patty and I watched the long version of The Swarm. Since the end of the film takes place in Houston, this seemed quite fitting.
The next morning (Friday) we set out for Dallas, about a four hour drive. I had mentioned I had never been to Whataburger, as they don’t have them up by us. So Kirk stopped along the way and we had an early lunch. I bought the double cheeseburger, the patties of which proved humungous enough that a single clearly would have done. It was delicious, definitely first class for a fast food place. Moreover, I glommed on some of Patty’s hash brown sticks, which were marvelous. Maybe it’s a good thing they aren’t up here, because I could eat those things every day of the year.
We later stopped at Woody’s Smokehouse, a world-class emporium where they sell an amazing array of freshly made jerkies and baked goods. I bought a pie to bring to the Petersen’s, and some buffalo and elk jerky for my friend Jeff Withem, who was for the first time planning to join us at T-Fest. Sandy was also kindly (to say the least) putting Jeff up.
Upon reaching Dallas (and with me retardedly having lost all my travel info, including Sandy’s phone number and address), we hit Sandy’s workplace to hook up with the Great Man himself. Then we repaired to Case de Petersen, where Jeff had recently arrived. We communed, and eventually went to dinner. I think it was that evening. Sandy particularly delights in showing me stuff I haven’t seen before, and as a lover and longtime procurer of wacky and often ludicrously extreme foreign fare, he has quite a lot that falls into that category. I think it was that night we watched Sars 4, aka Sars Wars, a typically over the top and hilarious Thai zombie flick. Hey, zombies, kung fu, giant snakes and hot Asian chicks in school girl outfits? Sign me up.
Then we called it a night, and Jeff and I repaired the bunk bed the Petersens kindly provided, dreaming dreams of the day to come…
