Master class in friends

Oh, boy — a party! — “Crescendo,” to be precise. A fundraiser for the Central Texas Philharmonic, a newish nonprofit group fusing the Georgetown Symphony Society and the Round Rock Symphony into one group of lovers of gorgeous orchestra music of all sorts, from Beethoven to McCartney.

As Old Hodge, my high school buddy Arlene Jacob Pitts and I cruised into Cimarron Hills Country Club territory Saturday night, a flock of women in the bright colors of Central American birds and their more mutedly clad escorts flowed across a lawn into the back of the club.

“That’s where it must be!” Arlene announced from the back seat, pointing. She nailed it.

The party place blazed with beautiful women in gorgeous clothes and jewelry and handsome men wearing everything from chic golfing outfits to eye-popping flowered shirts. Texas’ most esteemed pianist, Anton Nel, who would be performing that night, was checking out a dreamboat Steinway Grand that had been moved there for the occasion. Most of the rest of us jigged and jogged between clusters of people to exclaim, squeak and shout greetings.

Many of us had not seen each other since before March 2020, when Covid-19 came to Texas and our normal world shifted into quarantine. These were people I had worked with for many years, trying to “save classical music” in Georgetown (which we did, with essential help from the City of Georgetown, fundraiser extraordinaire Betty Jukes, Troy and Mary Rodriguez, and Jerry and Liz Hobbs, among a huge cast of volunteers on behalf of Georgetown Symphony Society).

Too many old friends to name, but how supersweet it was to see Jerry Hobbs, who lost his darling Liz to cancer last year and has resettled in Austin; tablemates Laura and James Morgan (Laura taught piano privately for years and hosted the loveliest recitals I ever witnessed) and Dale (violin lover, farmer, retired attorney) and Sandy Illig; the always gorgeous Kyra and Steve Quenan, jewelers par excellence on the Square; Joanne and Bill Harrah, whose generosity and talents on behalf of the Palace Theatre, GSS and now Central Texas Philharmonic have been without peer; Toby Blumenthal, the adorable Round Rock pianist who created CHAMPS, Chamber Music for Public Schools for Salon Concerts in Austin and has performed frequently in Georgetown; Micki and Nelson Avery, who have supported the arts here in substantial ways, including Georgetown Art Center; Stefan Sanders, music director of the Central Texas Philharmonic; Charlotte Barbini, president of CTP board during its infancy; Judge Billy Ray Stubblefield and psychologist Laurie Locke, who co-hosted a table; Linda McCalla, whose work as the first director of Project Georgetown laid the foundation for the Square’s rehabilitation; Julia Taylor, whose husband Kevin started the Williamson County Guitar Society; Mark Dietz, Round Rock attorney and grand storyteller in the Texas tradition; Karen Cole, one of Georgetown High School’s most outstanding graduates — from Houston attorney and banker back to Georgetown where she is an active volunteer and philanthropist. And so many more.

So many hugs and kisses. So many whispered pieces of news. So much fun. No, maybe a big party like this is not an ideal way to catch up with old friends — but it’s way better than what we have experienced for the last two and a half years.

Arlene stayed with us on Walnut Street so she wouldn’t have to drive back to South Austin late Saturday night; we lolled around Sunday and talked ourselves almost to death.

My other great high school friend, Laura Weir Clarke, flew into town that weekend, too — so I wedged in two golden breakfasts with her, with all the pepping up and energy I always get from her. And funny stories.

On Monday morning, I met another close friend dating from ancient times, Carol Fox of Circleville and Taylor, to hash out the latest in our families’ efforts to contain, reroute and otherwise discourage Matterhorn Express Pipeline’s plan to run a natural gas pipeline under the land our families have farmed and ranched for over a century. That wasn’t entirely fun. But we met at Monument Cafe, had a terrific breakfast (divine cheese grits!), and wedged in some rollicking stories in between studying maps.

If there is anything better than old friends — especially those you have worked with on projects you really cared about — I don’t know what it is.

It’s therapy. Energy. Wisdom. Silliness. Joy. And love.

Mostly, pure love.