part__xi_eleven

"Keep Austin Weird"

A sort of mantra you can hear chanted through every structure, every crack, and every nook in this city. The phrase seems as a living rhythm imbibed by every step the locals take. Austin seems like a bizarre hybrid of urbanization, and organic naturalism. The kind of city that has enough city for the urbanites, and enough unaltered land for the hippies (which are abundant). It's the kind of place you need to know about if you're ever thinking about aimlessly wandering the country. Austin is the place you pass through, either intentionally or not, and though you intend merely pass through, you stay for years starting businesses and families alike. I mean that all in the best way possible, as this kind of attitude has fostered a kind of creativity and community that you can just feel in this town. It's the kind of hippie, free-love, all inclusive community that you can hardly help but love every bit of. 

We rolled into Austin approximately 1,300 miles, three states, and 25 hours later from when we left Orange County Friday night. The drive was taxing and long, but having four people and a decently comfortable place to sleep helps tremendously. Saturday night we walked around downtown for a little looking for a drug store so we could get Heather some medicine for her worsening allergies that appropriately started the minute we left California. The streets were alive and bustling in that way only a city can do on a Saturday night. The clubs were screaming their incessant house beats, or in most cases, their incessant twang. After all, we are in Texas. After failing our mission to find an open drug store, we looked one up on my phone that was just a couple miles away. The Walgreens we arrived at is where we spent our first night in Austin. They were gracious enough to let us crash in six or seven of their parking spots along side the store. 

We were all so exhausted that nothing could've kept us from sleeping like Rip VanWinkle that night. Not even the four foot couch I spent the night on deterred me from getting a full nights sleep. However, it did deter my neck from feeling awesome in the morning. We used the Walgreens restroom to wash our faces and brush our teeth, and went on our way. The first order of business was to head to a Home Depot so we could finally fix the hole in our ceiling. Scott had attempted to fix it before we left with a piece of cardboard left over from an old wine box and some duct tape. Sadly, however, we were told to fix it properly with some plexiglass and caulk. We were looking forward to this project because even with all of our handiness combined, we seem to only have enough ability to match that of one hand. And the longer we worked on this project the more it became clear that this hand did not even have opposable thumbs. Two or so hours later we had successfully given our first run at fixing our roof. In the meantime, however, we met several strangers intrigued by our giant green RV. One, of whom, was a guy named David Ansel. He has lived in the city about ten years, and has had some fairly remarkable success here. Years ago, David started a small folk/grassroots company called The Soup Peddler. Where he literally peddles soup for a living, riding his bike around Austin delivering soup. This was a crazy instance mostly because we had heard of David even before we got to Austin as someone we would be privileged to meet while here. And, as the fates had it, he found us. Inadvertently, he became our pseudo-guide to the city, telling us places we can't miss, and some joints we just must check out before leaving. 

The number one thing on this list was a place called Barton Springs. Famous for its constant 65 degree temperature and haven for dissidents. This was marked by the dozens laying out enjoying the day. Whether the high school teacher sitting on top of the hill ogling, what are most likely, his students, or the topless woman spinning a hula-hoop around her neck, you instantly were aware of the kind of ethos this place promoted. It was a place that helped explain a lot of questions you may have had about Austin prior to just seeing it for yourself. It was the evidence every seemingly fictional place needs to legitimize it. The water was cold and unbelievably refreshing. We could only imagine what kind of luxury this place would be in the dead of summer, when the temperatures are consistently in the triple digits. 

Next we made our way back downtown and visited what was said to be "the best movie theater in the world" called the Alamo Drafthouse Cinema. Here we saw the new Bill Maher movie "Religulous" and I had a beer. Definitely an enjoyable experience. After that, being both tired and non-natives, we wandered the city for a while looking for somewhere to eat. Once we did we were too tired to do anything else and headed to Scott's friends place, where we were staying the night. 

This morning, we got a shower in, which was past due for all of us, and headed to meet up with David for breakfast and a hopeful interview to get his story, and maybe some insights into life and the battle fought for what you love. Breakfast at The Boudin Creek Cafe was delicious, as was the conversation with David. His story is definitely an unlikely one, and an encouragement to follow our passions and not quit until you're doing what you love. And now here I am at Starbucks, waiting for the friend, whose place I'm spending the night at, to get off work. It's been hours, and I most certainly have several ahead of me. The team has moved on toward Dallas and then to Nashville from there. I am left behind because tomorrow I fly to Denver for what could easily be described as the wedding of the century. Though I'm bummed to miss out on the next leg of the trip, I could not be more excited to help usher in what could be the biggest and most important decision of my best friend's life. 

My time with Austin is nearly over, and as the heavy folk lyrics of Conor Oberst echo in my headphones, I am assured that I will be nostalgic when I think of Austin. It certainly was nothing like I could've imagined it to be. I mean, I have fairly purposefully lived my entire life attempting to disassociate myself with anything or anyone that had anything to do with Texas. But after my experience here in Austin, I'm convinced that this is the only redeeming quality about what would otherwise be an entirely god-forsaken state. Austin has officially won me over, and convinced me that against my best judgement, Texas is not something America should've given up on hundreds of years ago. Well maybe it still is, but, without a doubt, Austin is a hell of a good time, full of people to glean wisdom from, people to watch in amazement and confusion, and full of an attitude that contains less judgement, and more acceptance as a standard for living. All together a place I would recommend to all.