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me skyscrapers have become our mountains. There’s a mysterious beauty about them, with their subtle variations in shape. My three favorites appear to be made of mirrors, in the palest shades of smoky blue, grayish green, and rose. Contrasting with these is a modernized Gothic structure, covered with spikes, a sort of 21st century Notre Dame. One wouldn’t be surprised to see a gargoyle come tumbling down from its heights, but it would have to be a space gargoyle, something along the Star Wars line, for Houston in 1987.
Instead of Old Rag, Red Oak, Bessie Bell and Fodderstack, we lift our eyes to Transco Tower, Republic Bank Building, Texas Commerce Center, Allied Bank, and Pennzoil Plaza. At Christmas, white lights were strung around each. This gave depth to the buildings at night. It was breathtakingly beautiful to drive around our Houston Mountains sparkling with millions of lights. It made me want to fly among them like Superman.
The population here is young; the average of Houstonian is twentythree. People are very well-dressed, extremely fashionable. Fashionably extreme? I’m still surprised by the amount of makeup and jewelry Houston women wear. When the temperatures plunge to the mid-sixties, out come the furs! The myth is alive! Texans really wear cowboy hats and boots in the city - and in their Mercedes Benzes.
With its many colleges and universities, and the huge medical center, Houston has attracted people front many foreign countries. In the spring, an International Festival is held downtown. One can partake of food, dances, and art from each of
(See HOUSTON, page 18)
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