6.02.2004
Ex Post Austin
Okay, so Jim got some of us blogging, but do none of us live in Austin anymore? It seems not. I guess people in Austin are too content to blog, or have had to many margaritas, or have just come back from a massage, or were out too late in the warehouse district (or god forbid, 6th Street), or are out in the hammock, or are otherwise just not at all about to start yammering away online.
Austin is a great little town. Melbotis seems to be pining for it. And I wouldn't mind walking down Guadalupe in my cowyboy hat--a little sweat running down the bck of my neck on the way to Dirty's for a cherry limeade. Or to be Barton Springs-bound on my good old bike (that is rusting away at home). Or...let's see, on a hot day...maybe hitting the Clay Pit buffet then checking out Waterloo records before escaping to the cool darkness of Dog and Duck, away from the sun or in the parking lot of Draft Horse (name changed back) with dogs and tailgates. Or digging some
fiddle playing at Artz' Rib House or Don Walser at Threadgills. Or picking up someone with too many tattoos during Victrola's happy hour at the Continental, or being wowed by the guy at Club DeVille's karaoke night who can do "You don't buy me roses" as a duet with himself. Or checking out all the beautiful salsa people at Miguels? Or digging into some Magnolia Mud or cruising resale shops on Burnett. Wait! I got it--putting on the boots and heading down to Broken Spoke to hear Chapparal play their country version of "Don't Go Back to Rockville". That's clearly it.
What I don't understand is how he can miss the grackles.
(I may come back and add some links later...now off to Japanese class.)
Austin is a great little town. Melbotis seems to be pining for it. And I wouldn't mind walking down Guadalupe in my cowyboy hat--a little sweat running down the bck of my neck on the way to Dirty's for a cherry limeade. Or to be Barton Springs-bound on my good old bike (that is rusting away at home). Or...let's see, on a hot day...maybe hitting the Clay Pit buffet then checking out Waterloo records before escaping to the cool darkness of Dog and Duck, away from the sun or in the parking lot of Draft Horse (name changed back) with dogs and tailgates. Or digging some
fiddle playing at Artz' Rib House or Don Walser at Threadgills. Or picking up someone with too many tattoos during Victrola's happy hour at the Continental, or being wowed by the guy at Club DeVille's karaoke night who can do "You don't buy me roses" as a duet with himself. Or checking out all the beautiful salsa people at Miguels? Or digging into some Magnolia Mud or cruising resale shops on Burnett. Wait! I got it--putting on the boots and heading down to Broken Spoke to hear Chapparal play their country version of "Don't Go Back to Rockville". That's clearly it.What I don't understand is how he can miss the grackles.
(I may come back and add some links later...now off to Japanese class.)
