Lunch Report: Mama Margie's...

Someone alert the media; we've been out to eat again!This afternoon following a vigorous morning of garage sailing, we found ourselves in need of some vittles. Turns out, during one of our stops at a garage sale, a lady had mentioned the new Mama Margie's in Alamo Ranch, and that was the only hint we needed to get over and see the place.

We have enjoyed MM at I-10 and Wurzbach for years - the food is superior to Taco Cabana and service is much faster. This new one doesn't disappoint on either count.The place is a lot more wide open and allows a crowd of folks to stand around and look at the menu; and they need the space. Since opening, every time we have driven by, the place has been packed. In fact, we had to park in the lot being built for the new shopping center behind it. Don't let the packed parking lot scare you; friends have told us, and we experienced lickity split service. My wife and a friend of ours both got Chalupas. I didn't try it but my wife reports the beans were fresh and good. Of course, MM's has the little condiment station so you can go up and grab all assortment of jalapenos, chopped onions, and salsas of every variety to top off your food.I went with the beef fajita platter. Caution, that platter is hot! When you get the fajitas they are still sizzling good and the grilled onions and pepper simply add to the flavor. After finishing my first fajita taco I complained that it was hot in the restaurant but my wife pointed out that I was giving myself a full facial by hovering over the steaming plate of fajitas. The plate comes with choice of beans (I went with Boracho to match my personality) and rice. Both were good but the highlight is the awesome beef fajitas.We didn't indulge, but reports from friends and neighbors are that the margaritas are out of this world. Perhaps we'll give 'em a try next time we go back - and we will definitely go soon. For fast service, great Mexican food and more competition to keep the other restaurants in the area on their toes, Mama Margie's is a Tasty Treat.

A Cygnet Named Baby

Sid Seidenberger, our Mission Trace correspondent, enjoyed the pictures of my funny dogs Gracie & Panda and told me about an interesting pet he has adopted, named Baby. He referred to Baby as a Cygnet, and not being familiar with that particular nomenclature, I must confess that I had to do some quick Google action to find out just what sort of critter he had. I’ll spare you the details of my research, but if you find yourself in a Discovery Channel state of mind, you might start here.

Before I get to Baby though, I think it is fascinating how the small neighborhood of Mission Trace, like other older gated communities, seem to carve out a sanctuary of sorts for their residents, when just on the other side of the fence is all the hustle and bustle of a fast-paced and continuously growing and congested environment.

Like many of my fellow Silver Creek and Great Northwest neighbors who drive up Culebra Road every afternoon, I often wonder if all the traffic is worth it. So as I drove down Wurzbach and on Vance Jackson at the height of rush hour to get to Mission Trace, I had similar thoughts about the sense of living in such a congested area.

Those questions ceased as soon as the guard lifted the entry gate into Mission Trace. Surrounded by trees and walls that make the traffic on Vance Jackson disappear behind you, the small tree-lined lake to the right immediately catches your attention. The only distraction to the lake was a well-placed sign emphasizing the need to be cautious for the swans. As I drove in, I saw a duck casually sitting on a bench as though he was waiting for a bus or something.

The point is that just as I find the comfort of my home and my neighborhood to be worth the short drive up Culebra, I suspect the residents of Mission Trace soon forget about the bumper-to-bumper traffic navigated through to arrive in their little piece of heaven. And I’m willing to bet that wherever Baby’s parents came from to land in the small body of water in Mission Trace, they felt the flight was worth it. And that’s where Baby’s story begins.

I spoke with Sid and his friend Al, also a resident of Mission Trace, and they told me how the parents, Australian Black Swans had a small nest of babies, or cygnets as the young swans are called. The enemies of these young cygnets are turtles and hawks, both prevalent around the lake, and soon it became clear to residents of the area that the little babies would not survive.

Fearing for their safety, the property manager for the local HOA removed the cygnets from the predators around the lake when the Cop and Pen (the parents) could not protect them. Unfortunately, Baby’s two siblings did not survive.

Fast forward to a month or so ago and a now much larger but still immature Baby as she was named by the manager, was released to learn to live and enjoy the same peaceful solitude of the lake that human inhabitants of the area enjoy. But, Mother Nature, the prankster she can often be, gives the Australian Black Swan an apparent short memory. And without the standard baby-swan passport photo or the equivalent of those school year books that show your child growing from a toddler to an adult in 12 short years of public school, these poor swans had no idea who Baby was.

Worse, because some swans don’t feel at all icky about incest, and apparently others do, the parents took this new strange cygnet as a threat to the marriage. Sid reports that in one fowl exchange (sorry), Papa Swan “bit Baby's tail and shook her whole body like an old kitchen rug being shaken free of dust on the back porch. It scared the hell out of Baby...and me.”

So now, Baby has to be caged at night (conveniently beneath the picture window of Sid’s home, overlooking the lake), and she has to have water tubs from which to drink and slosh around in. Lettuce and seed come hand delivered at this point but I suspect she will learn to scrounge around the lake for vittles before too long.

What surprised me the most about meeting Baby was that she has taken to Sid’s voice and presence. When I asked if we could get close enough for a few happy-snaps, Sid simply wandered outside, called for her and picked her up as though she was a little puppy. When Al and I approached to get a better look, Baby tucked her beak in-between Sid’s protective arm and chest, though she looked up occasionally to see if we were still gawking at her. After a few nervous moments of introductions, Sid let Baby down and she wandered down toward the lake.

In addition to her estranged parents watching from a distance on the other side of the small lake, there was an egret not far from us contemplating his next move as occasional sprinkles of rain approached. Baby seemed fine dipping her feet into the water as long as we stood by, but I suspect she knew as well as Sid that once we retreated back to the house, the aggressive parents would not be nearly as standoffish.
Later, from the incredible view indoors looking out, Baby fled the pleasant water of the lake with her Springer-like parents in hot pursuit. Sid has a sense of Baby’s speed and was confident though visibly nervous about her ability to make it to the safety of her cage. Once on land and headed toward the house, the parents ceased the chase of the last of their offspring, with no idea on earth that only a season earlier, they had hatched the little cygnet.

In a few more months, Baby ought to make a pretty good centerpiece come Thanksgiving time. And with that, we were hopeful that Baby would survive this season, and the next.

Note: Thanks to Photographer Al for additional photos of Baby and her parents.

Sid Reports: Fiesta Flambeau

Our correspondent Sid Seidenberger writes about his trip with friends to this year’s Fiesta Flambeau, proving that being a schoolteacher can sometimes have quite a Fiesta Bonus!

It has been years since I last attended the Fiesta Flambeau night parade, but this year a couple of good friends, Patti and Al, both from Mission Trace, and I decided to go.

As veterans of many parades, we had the drill down pat: comfortable shoes, shorts, festive shirts, and adventurous Fiesta spirits (lively enthusiasm, that is, not libations, of course!).

The three of us are quite left-brained, concrete- sequential type personalities, and this was more or less (probably more) a spontaneous decision to attend the parade. In the past, I have attended the Fiesta parades and enjoyed viewing them from seats I had bought months earlier, as expected of a man with a plan left-brainer. This year, we had no seats, had no idea where we'd wind up in the parade route, no idea where we'd park, and still we bravely set out to make our way to the Fiesta parade with the largest attendance of all according to the records. (It must be hard counting heads from that helicopter hovering above the parade spectators!)

Traveling from Mission Trace and then down Interstate-10 to downtown was a breeze... until we hit we hit the Interstate-35 North exit. It was " worse back" up than "Wurzbach" traffic, to which we are daily accustomed to battling. We quickly averted the traffic cluster by staying on IH-10 until we made it to the Durango exit, which was also clogged by parade bound motorists, so we exited at the next intersection, did a turn-around, and made our way into the downtown area via Flores Street.

Once we made it to the area by Fox Tech High School, we encountered parking lot after parking lot with frown inducing entrance signs stating: LOT FULL. Ready to almost give up, we had a great idea! Why not valet park at the lot of one of the high-end, upscale downtown hotels (which shall remain nameless for obvious reasons)? Yes! Problem solved! You see, there are some fringe benefits to being a teacher; I have several former students working at this unnamed hotel as guest parking attendants, so they have always told me they will "hook me up" with parking anytime needed. If ever I needed one single, solitary slot in which to park, it was on this evening of ubiquitous LOT FULL signs.

Patti, Al, and I walked away from the valet parking entry of the hotel, and I felt as privileged as King Antonio himself, having handed over my keys and car to my former student, who was so pleased to accommodate us. I felt like a V.I.P. getting my car parked among the other Official Fiesta Vehicles. Of course I had no signs like these on my car, only the usual pings, dings, and scratches.

Having successfully parked, Patti, Al, and I realized the next hurdle to jump was finding either bleacher seats or street chairs. The thought of standing for an entire parade is not appealing, so we questioned every parade usher (easy to spot because of the lime green baseball caps supplied by the Fiesta Commission) as to the possibility of purchasing seats. We kept getting the response "all sold out,” so we were resigned to the fact that we would be standing!

Then we came upon a section of street seats unoccupied and figured we'd just sit down until the ticket holders arrived. As we began to shimmy down the row, a brightly fiesta attired lady with a flower and ribbon head wreath, looked puzzlingly at us as we sat, and she said these seats were hers. We were caught red-handed and red faced, but she quickly assured us that it was not a problem because her guests were not able to attend. She asked if we wished to purchase the seats, we said indeed we did, and then we were able to rightfully sit in the chairs with tickets in our possession!

Relieved to be legally seated, the Mission Trace trio felt victorious in acquiring not only primo parking but also choice chairs in the second row! What luck! With this winning track record for the evening, what could possibly go wrong?

It seemed an eternity before the parade actually made its way to our location on Third Avenue between Broadway and Alamo. As we waited, the kindly lady who sold us her extra seats took out a big blue zippered picnic tote, opened it, and was handing her family members foil wrapped tacos. Jokingly, I asked her if the tacos came with the purchase price of our seat tickets. She laughed, her lace lit up with a big grin, and the next thing I knew, her son (seated next to me) handed me three tacos, salsa, and napkins. Overcome with surprise, I looked down the row at this gracious lady who smiled at me. She said, "Please enjoy them. Happy Fiesta!" We quickly devoured the delicious, tasty tacos and gave our thanks not only for the seats, but also the treats!

Finally, the parade commenced with the motorcycle cops heralding its beginning. Shortly thereafter, the usual dignitaries including Mayor Hardberger and King Antonio came waving at the spectators. Suddenly we heard loud hollering and thunderous applause for the Grand Marshal, the one and only heart throb of "Dancing with the Stars" and the former star of "Saved by the Bell"... Mario Lopez!

The usual fiesta parade floats followed super Mario with queens and princesses, marching bands, twirlers, dancers, and lots of frustratingly long lulls.... and then a drenching downpour! Yes, there was a dark cloud over our auspicious experience, the heavens opened up, and happy parade revelers scrambled as fast as their fleet-footed Fiesta feet could carry them to seek cover from the rain.

Mother Nature drew a quick, unexpected close to the 2007 Fiesta Flambeau Parade. She reigned over the evening as the most powerful of all the Fiesta queens that night, but she did not dampen the indomitable spirit of San Antonio.

The Mission Trace trio trekked our way through the infernal puddles left by the showers and amidst the trash and rubble left by the crowds and headed back to the hotel parking lot. We were disappointed that the rain ended our Fiesta fun, but we were still talking about the touching generosity and thoughtfulness of the real queen of the event, the lovely flower and ribbon wreath crowned lady who sold us her extra tickets and fed us, too. There are still truly nice people left in this world!

Do you have a Fiesta event to report? Feel free to e-mail me.

Living in Mission Trace - 78230

I’m pretty excited about having our first guest reporter give a little update on the area known as Mission Trace. Hell, the fact that Sid e-mailed is proof that I’m not the only person reading, so that in itself is pretty exciting. But I digress.

If you have ever taken the drive along Vance Jackson north of Loop 410, you know that there are quite a few lovely neighborhoods and apartment/condo communities. Believe me, this is quite a contrast from my visits to the west side of SA. But as envious as I am of the area, even the residents of higher end neighborhoods often have to wait just like the rest of us for needed improvements. Our correspondent, Sid Seidenberger reports:

I have always wondered why there were no sidewalks (just a few limited sections of cemented walkways) for pedestrians since this neighborhood has been in existence for some thirty years. School children, the elderly, dog walkers, and others have experienced a very difficult time negotiating the holes, ditches, puddles, and high weeds all the while being mindful of the heavy traffic here on Vance Jackson between Wurzbach and Big Meadow.

Finally, after three decades, something is being done! It has taken a long time, but if you drive through this area (I wouldn't walk it quite yet), you will observe the construction of continuous concrete side walking made completely wheelchair accessible. The low water crossings even feature grated concrete curbing to help deter flooding during heavy rains. Construction crews have even sodded areas between the new curbing and freshly laid sidewalk with grass pallets.

Progress? Yes, but one must wonder why it took so long for the "powers that be" to act in doing something that has obviously been long overdue. After all, there is much foot traffic in this area, and there are two public schools and a library located between Wurzbach and Huebner.

I don’t know the details, but it sounds like perhaps the Home Owners Association has taken some time to get things going. But thankfully for Sid, sidewalks are on the way. If you would like to tell me about your neighborhood, the good, the bad, and the ugly; feel free to e-mail me.