I Am "Methanol-Starved"

"When more than 10,000 spectators walk out the door on the fourth and final night, they are so amazed at what they have seen that they cannot wait to return." That's just one of the curious things I learned on the 23rd Annual Chili Bowl Midget Nationals Web site, the clearinghouse for the event that opens today at The QuikTrip Center in Expo Square. 

Before we go any further, it's time for one of my infamous confessions. Until last year, I had no idea what the heck this event was all about. No one ever said, "It's like go-cart racing - the dudes from my old unit have to go every year," as my husband so eloquently and finally explained. See, I get that. 

"...these Nationals are known simply as the Chili Bowl: racing's winter answer to football's Super Bowl." 

"The Chili Bowl's key ingredient is the clay which once covered the adjacent fairgrounds. Without sun or wind to harm it, the indoor garden (roughly a quarter-mile circle) is heavily saturated so that the boldest dirt track artists of our time can truly shine."

"...thousands and thousands of methanol-starved fans are ready to call Tulsa, and the QuikTrip Center's Tulsa Expo Raceway in particular, home for a few days." 

All of that, not so much. Not that I don't trust that this event is a complete blow-out, even though I am totally out of touch when it comes to racing and, well, sports in general (sorry). After all, how could an armory-full of methanol-starved infantry guys be wrong? 

I have to admit, I'd get pretty riled up seeing 293 Sprint Cars, Midgets, Late Models, Modifieds and Drag Racers racing each other on a quarter-mile clay track at the same time. 

They do all race at the same time, right, guys? I mean, right? 

Qualifying races start this evening at 7:20 p.m. with the Chili Bowl Race of Champions at 9:30. It all ends Saturday, Jan. 17, with the Chili Bowl Championship feature events. The event also includes a 20,000-square-foot trade show, which is open each day free of charge. Check the Chili Bowl Web site for times. 

Be sure to check in at chilibowl.com as the week progresses for nightly race results. Also be sure to take pity on me and my heretofore methanol-free existence. 

Jack Frank Keeps It Real

Last night, rather than collapse into bed and fall asleep on the way down, Aaron and I watched the newest show by Jack Frank, Tulsa Deco. 

Rather than bore you with a minute-by-minute rundown of what you've probably already seen of it on local TV, I'd rather list my favorite moments. 

1. I loved the shots of the praying hands that are part of the Boston Avenue Methodist Church building at 13th and Boston. I didn't know they were there, and I definitely didn't know there were 66 of them. I also didn't know the tower of the church was full of workable office space. You can bet I'll be doing double-takes all over downtown for the next several months.
2. All the snippets of commentary about the Tulsans of the Art Deco era, who built buildings not because they needed space, "but because they liked to see buildings go up." I love hearing about these people who were "dripping with oil money" and how their buildings were "a record of their aspirations and achievements." You know, back when most buildings were built to last long enough to do that sort of thing. 
3. Every time I return to look again at Art Deco architecture, I'm amazed all over again at the level of detail in the design, especially in office building lobbies. I was glad Frank found an architect who made a specific point about that. Also, so many details featured in the video were new to me. I'm looking for chances to see in person the ones I've missed.
4. To hear the Philcade had 28 retail stores on its ground floor during the Art Deco era and that downtown Tulsa was considered a huge shopping draw during that time was encouraging and daunting at the same time. I was happy to see Steven Howard of KoKoa Chocolatier was featured in the film. I only wish Mary Beth Babcock's new Dwelling Spaces mini-boutique had opened a little sooner and could have been featured, too.
5. The collection of clips of people Frank talked to about the connection between the BOK Center and Tulsa's Art Deco structures were, um, interesting. Several were plainly reaching, saying that the name-brand building brought attention to Tulsa's body of architecture as a whole and that the oil barons would be proud of such an architectural marvel. You mean, the same oil barons who built buildings just to see them go up? Who, as someone in the film said, were always trying to prove to the world that they weren't just a bunch of Okies? An architect at the end of the segment said, "As a sculpture, it [the BOK Center] certainly moves your eyes, and it's very exciting - as are our art deco buildings. So, there is a connection." That was the best guess I heard. I suppose we'll keep trying to convince ourselves there's a connection for as long as we're still trying to convince the world we're not just a bunch of Okies.  

Pretty much every time anyone eluded to the notion that modern buildings aren't built to the same standard of quality or craftsmanship as were older buildings, Aaron would loudly "UH-HUH" or "HMM" or "SEE?!!!" 

The quality of modern buildings is an especially sore subject for him right now. He has spent his entire winter break from school calking drafts in our half-century-old house while mumbling nasty things about industrialization and urban sprawl and its impact on the quality of structures and that we should just pack up and move right now. But, when a woman who had lived in Westhope came on-screen last night and talked about how Frank Lloyd Wright couldn't build a flat roof and that the roof leaked badly in the house, Aaron didn't utter a peep. I guess it's harder to complain when you live in a drafty, mid-priced house that looks exactly like the one three doors down when you know a Frank Lloyd Wright house that had wet floors and watermarks on the ceilings. 

Accessibility is what I liked most about Jack Frank's Art Deco show. Sometimes architecture may seem easier to appreciate than, say, a painting or an abstract photo because it's art we can literally walk through  - it's experiential. But, it's not always that easy. An onlooker stands back from a painting or a photo and experiences it at once, within the confines of a frame. With architecture, that's not possible. A building wraps around whoever enters it, eliminating that ability to stand back to sense and evaluate the piece as we might with images that hang on a wall. 

See? It gets heady. Frank keeps it real. 

The video is available for purchase online at tulsafilms.com, at Steve's Sundry, Bank of Oklahoma branches, Walgreens and Quiktrip. 

The Winds, They Are A-Changin'

Today was the perfect day to go to the park.


The temperatures were mild and clouds kept the sun from glaring down on my little boy's head, which, as you could surmise from the many photos of him that I post here, is a second-degree sunburn waiting to happen. Though the parking lot is heinous thanks to construction, the LaFortune Park playgrounds (more than half a dozen on the west side of the park) at 51st and Yale are the best picks for play dates in that weird not-quite-Midtown, not-quite-South-or-East-Tulsa zone.

As I write this, though, the winds are changing - howling, actually. The high temperature tomorrow should be in the upper 30s.

No play time at the park tomorrow for our little man. Don't worry, he'll recover.

While the weather won't be good for swings and sandboxes, it will be perfect for fluffy, hearty, piping-hot pizza.

If you haven't had a chance to get downtown and give Joe Momma's a try, make a point to do it this weekend while it's chilly and your innards need warmin'.

I'm sorry I said innards. Really, my Papa is the only man cool and Oklahoma enough to use that word.

When you get settled in at the uber-urban digs of Joe Momma's (112 S. Elgin), make sure to try the Bacon Cheeseburger pizza. It completely disarms the question, "If you had to eat one thing for the rest of your life, would it be pizza or cheeseburgers?" Joe Momma's has created a world in which we don't have to choose.

That I don't ever have to worry again about making that choice deserves the cheesiest thumbs-up I can muster.

Happy weekend, friends! Make sure to get your own photo taken in the big, gold throne at Joe Momma's soon.

My Sordid Past in Sketching

I started college as an architecture major. I've always had a sweet spot for buildings, and I decided as a middle schooler that I wanted to be the mastermind behind at least a few of some really great ones. And, I came from an architecturally inspiring city. Sounds like a recipe for a future architect, right?

Well. Once I got into the studio, I quickly realized I'd have absolutely no time for writing. In fact, I had little time for sleeping, eating and, unfortunately, bathing, let alone writing. Even though in the end I elected to graduate with a degree in American Studies, I still harbor a love of all that is the built environment. I'm grateful I live in an area where I can still gawk at wonderful structures without having to travel far at all.

While I was still a zombified architecture student, my first sketching assignment required I pick three structures from my hometown to pair with three structures on campus and present them on some ever-loving, God-forsaken Strathmore board, which soaks up pencil lead like a devil-sponge and cannot be erased. It has to be very carefully shaved off with an Exacto knife, and if your professor notices what you've done, you can bet you just lost a letter grade.

Sorry. Flashbacks.


This house is in old Sand Springs on the north side of the river. Rumor has it that a husband built it for his wife who, shortly after the house was complete, passed away. I'm not sure who owns the house now, but I would love to learn more about it and its history. In my opinion, it's the most beautiful house west of downtown.

Of course, I had to draw this...


...at night. I was fearless in college. I was also a good sketcher, apparently, because I got the highest grade in the class on the assignment, whcih was nice since it was pretty much the only assignment I got during architecture school on which I made a grade higher than 79 percent.

Even so, I still make a sketch from time to time, especially when I'm downtown and see things like this:


It's images like these that make my fingers itch. Then I start longing for the bright, chilly mornings spent in that architecture studio, working alongside some incredibly talented friends and exercising my creativity and cutting off the tip of my left index finger and splaying blood all over the parts of my final project I'd already built in Strathmore board.

Then I remember that architecture school is for people who eat nails for fun.

Forgive Me, For I Have Sinned

As a fifth-generation Tulsan and a wannabe cheeseburger aficionado, I have a confession to make. 

Before today, I had never eaten a Claud's burger. 

The photo above is the (entire) dining room at Claud's today at about 1 p.m., where customers dined on $2 burgers and crispy fries, all made fresh to-order, right before their blessed eyes. 

I don't think the dining room at Claud's, which has seating for just 12, ever looks much different than it does above. I've never driven by and seen the place any way but packed. 

Sure, I'd heard of Claud's. I'd heard Midtowners talk about their cravings for the burgers, and I'd heard lots of Brookside shoppers begging on their cell phones with friends staged at Claud's for a milkshake. Somehow, though I have lived in this city for more than 25 years and have driven by or heard about Claud's probably hundreds of times, I have arrived seriously late to this party. 

Better late than never, as I always say. 

Tardiness never tasted so good...and juicy and fresh and like it could save my very soul. 

To seal the deal, here's the ultimate proof that a Claud's burger lives up to the raves of the burger proficient in T-Town: take-out orders are written on the bag. 

Don't ask why this validates a burger joint, because I don't know. It's just one of those constants of the universe. My lunch today, which I will probably dream about tonight, only added to the pile of proof for this theory.  

After I was pulled kicking and screaming from the little green-and-white burger stand at 3834 S. Peoria, I ended up sniffing through the coffee selection at Mecca Coffee Company. 

And proceeded to purchase several obscure cooking gadgets that I hadn't been able to find anywhere else in town. Behold: 

My husband and baby boy stand guard at the gate of my happiness and the source of why I have to spend so much of my time running around the block huffing and puffing, burning calories like a madwoman. 

Then we mosied over the Purple Glaze, a new favorite hangout of ours. Given the times, we thought our little man could use one of these:

Is it gender programming that we painted the piggy bank blue? Does the piggy bank look as if it got hold of one of those everlasting gobstoppers with the blueberry pie at the end? Or does the piggy bank just look really surprised and I'm overthinking all of this? 

Answer: all of the above. Sorry. 

We're not very good at cruising Brookside without stopping in at Lundeby's, even if it is past a certain someone's nap time. 

After Christmas brought an onslaught of walker trucks - four (!) - and toys, books and puzzles, we hit the market for some type of storage solution so our little guy doesn't mistake our den for the game room at Incredible Pizza. 

We didn't find anything like that at Lundeby's today, but don't think we made it out of there empty-handed. 

Or straight-faced. Actually, straight-faced really hasn't been part of our state of being since our baby boy came along. 

Awww! 

Want some fresh, earthy, texture-rich bread with that mush? 

Great Harvest Bread Co., in Tulsa at the Farm Shopping Center on the southeast corner of the 51st and Sheridan intersection, would be a great place to start that search. We stopped by there today and ended up with two loaves of a bread called Dakota, which is chock-full of seeds and nuts. Also try the Cheddar Garlic, and don't forget to add the jalapenos. It's what any self-respecting Tulsan would do.  

After a full and unusual winter day of mild weather and temperatures in the mid-seventies, we'll be back to hovering at freezing tomorrow. From what we saw in the outdoor patios lining Brookside and Utica Square, a lot of you got to get out, de-thaw, and enjoy the day as much as we did. 

New Years Eve in Tulsa

UPDATE: Dec. 31//If you're still making plans for this evening, here are a few links to check before you head out: 

Tulsa Food Blog

Urban Tulsa Weekly

Jennifer Chancellor at TW

//

Because I love my TDT readers, I'd like to offer you a distraction from the short work week, holiday plans, gift wrapping and obligatory casserole baking.

Answer me this: What do you do for New Years Eve in Tulsa? Spare me the dud plans, which include staying home and chewing twizzle sticks while you boast that watching the ball drop on TV is much better than being stuck in the crowds at Times Square.

I'm talking about the New Years Eve goings on that are worthy of a resolution the next morning, over black-eyed peas for extra luck.

I think we all deserve to know about the most fun New Years parties in town, even if some of us will be caught in what Stefanie Wilder-Taylor calls "the black hole of childcare." I want to be able to smugly say to my husband that evening, "Hey, at least we're not at one of those loud, happy, glittery, wild parties - being here is much better than being stuck in a sea of sun-shiny, smiling faces somewhere," even though I'll have to say it really quietly, lest I wake the little man who has decorated our guest room in elephants and Dr. Seuss books and who wouldn't exactly be down for a game of airplane as the ball drops on TV. Early to bed, early to rise, as he would say.

Tell me what you're going to do to make me "glad" the evening of Dec. 31!

Two Weekend Photos

From Kupcakz, 71st and Mingo. We came out of the bakery with four cupcakes but, well, you know, things...happen, especially around here, and particularly when cupcakes are involved. What was left: Boston Dreamer (inspired by my favorite birthday cake, Boston cream pie) on the left, and the ones on the right are the Morning Buzz (chocolate and coffee - what could go wrong?) and My Peanut Buttercup (the chocolate and peanut butter combo done right) cupcakes. I can't remember which was which, but they were both gone about 2.5 seconds after I took this photo. Because they were delicious and sinful and said my name and fives lines from Prufrock. Unlikely but true, maybe.


Our little (?) man visiting Santa at Utica Square. Can you believe it? He didn't cry! He didn't even wimper. He was more stone-faced than is usually typical of him, but I don't blame him one iota. The whole concept of a giant man dressed in red hanging out in a miniature house with a lady armed with a camera and photo printer makes me feel a tad uneasy, too, and I probably look stone-faced when I'm thinking about it.

For more Christmas fun, later my family and I will head out in hopes of making a commemorative Christmas ornament at Purple Glaze on Brookside, since we heard they have several available. But, I just realized this morning that even if we make the ornament this evening, it won't be available for pick-up until well after Christmas is over. We might be headed to the mall (dun dun DUN!) instead. Blast.

If we don't talk before Thursday, have a merry one!