Austin Journal (part 3)

by Steve Barr, AFF newbie
Part The Third

I think my personal Austin Film Festival started with that first beer. I bellied up to the bar and asked for something distinctly Texan that I couldn't get in California. The bartender managed to hide most of his reflexive sneer at the word "California," and poured me a tall frosty glass of Lone Pine. Hoppy, kinda sweet. Yummy.

Soon, I was joined by Brett, who had checked in at the Stephen F. Austin across the street. There was a baseball game on the bar TV, which many of the bar patrons found to be of utmost interest. Something about the beloved local team from Houston trying to go to the Really Big And Important Game. I enjoy baseball (because they have beer there, and usually hot dogs), but I don't really follow any teams, so I was happy to root along with everyone else for Our Boys In [Whatever Color The Astros Wear].

I got to buy Brett a couple of beers, and then we were joined by Jon, whose last name I forget if I ever learned it.

Okay, I already mentioned that Brett is a big guy, right? Jon's a big guy too. During the weekend there were some times when I would be standing near Brett, Jon, and Bill Martell, and I would feel kinda like Clarice Starling getting on that elevator at the beginning of SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, only coming up to the armpits of all the huge dudes around her.

(Luckily, that's the closest I've ever felt to being Clarice Starling. My brilliant psychiatrist friends aren't cannibals (and vice-versa), and no one has ever told me they could smell my ... well, you know.)

So Brett and Jon and I hung out and drank beers and watched the Astros win the playoff game that secured their participation in the World Series, until we saw some other friends, and...

... well, this is when things start to get a little fuzzy. I met a lot of nice people that night, but I'm not sure exactly in which order, or who was with whom, or any of that detail stuff that writers are supposed to be good at.

At some point that night, I hung out with:

-- Wordplayer Ann Daman, who is recently famous due to her listing on the IMDB.

-- Brian Anderson, a finalist in the screenplay competition for his script RAVEN ROAD. A long drink of water, charming and understated.

-- Bryan and James, a couple of AFF regulars who seemed to know everybody. Funny guys, good bullshitters. Bryan is working on a new videogame called Badge of Blood and showed me some screencaps which looked awesome.

-- Wordplayer Julie O, whose smile lights up the room and whose good looks and bubbly personality *almost* make you forget that she's actually a damn smart woman.

-- Wordplayer Bill Martell, who had nearly recovered from his production-from-hell (as related on his website http://www.scriptsecrets.net/)

-- Wordplayer Tina, who has a wicked sense of humor that she hides with a demure smile.

Danny got to the Driskill at about midnight, and there was some problem with the little card-keys that we were told could be solved by jiggling the handle, and then we went back to the bar.
There was so much shooting-the-shit that happened that night, I'm pretty sure there is not a single un-shot piece of shit left in Texas. (That's a softly lobbed setup for a joke, folks. Anyone want to take a swing?)

(Yes, I can play the straight man in a comedy duo. Kinda like Tom Cruise.)

Around 4:30 in the morning, maybe eight of us were seated comfortably on some couches made out of cows, talking about THEME. Yes, Virginia, screenwriters talk about theme even when they're drunk and exhausted.

Some time after that, I staggered upstairs and into bed.

The Driskill has really comfy pillows.

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