I've been in Austin for about a year now, and whenever I see people back in Phoenix they ask, "How's Austin?" In the year that I've been here, I've seen some of these same people seven or eight times. (I've had to travel back to Phoenix a lot for work.) And seven or eight times they've asked, "How's Austin?" I know they mean well, but what I really want to say is, "I already told you." I mean, how many times can a guy answer that question? Anyway, for those of you who remain curious, here are some of my thoughts about Austin:
Austin is really NOT Texas. If someone blindfolded you, spun you around a few times, and then shoved you into Austin, your impression would be "college town" much more so than "Texas town." In other words, it feels more like Tempe than it does like Ft. Worth. (Encountering someone with a Texas accent is a rarity. Did you hear that, Angie? You are a rarity. But you already knew that.)
Austin is the capital of Texas, but state politics really isn't a big deal here. I'm not sure why that is. It may be because Texas government doesn't do much, or because so much of government is run by faceless boards and commissions instead of the governor and legislators. But again, if someone plopped you down here out of the blue, you might be surprised to learn that the whole state of Texas was governed from this very spot. State politics is just not a big part of the culture of the town.
I love the vitality of downtown Austin, but I also tend to avoid it. Why? It's crowded, it's hard to find parking, and it's full of people who are younger than I am. Yes, I know what I sound like--one of those guys who stands out front of his house and shouts, "You kids stay off my lawn!" as he shakes his fist. It's true, though. The downtown area is great, but it's kind of like having a world class museum in your town: you're glad it's there when you want it, but you're not going to go there every weekend.
Austin is probably most famous for two things: a) live music; and b) assorted festivals. Since I have been here, I haven't seen a single live music act or been to an assorted festival. I need to get on that. Truth be told, I tend to shy away from live music, except as background to something else I'm doing. If I don't know a particular band, I tend not to like it on a first listen, and I definitely don't like having all conversation drowned out by it. ("The next time that ball lands on my lawn, I'm keeping it!")
I have really been struck by the beauty of the area west of town. There are rolling green hills there that overlook rivers and lakes. This is the eastern edge of the Texas hill country. Gorgeous, really. If I stay here, and if I discover a clean-burning, sustainable alternative to petroleum, I think I will buy a house in that part of town. (For those not getting the joke, the houses in that area are a little bit spendy.)
Because there are two major universities in town, a lot of the local culture is targeted toward, and dominated by, youth. I used to be youth. Sometimes, I think I still am. There's nothing worse, though, than looking at an attractive young woman, mulling over whether she might be in an appropriate age range, and then having her walk past and say, "Excuse me, sir." Ouch. But that's the way it is here. Wherever I go, most people are younger than I am. Soon, I'll be dead.
Large portions of Austin--in fact, the portions that I experience most--are ugly: just mile after mile of freeways, malls, and charmless housing developments. But I guess that's probably true of any large/growing metropolis. I guess, too, that there are lots of freeways, malls, and charmless housing developments because people need and want them. And I'm definitely one of those people. I'm on the freeways all the time here. Unlike living in Phoenix, freeways are a regular part of the journey around town. I also like having malls nearby, even though they're ugly. Having a Target, a Best Buy, a Borders, a Safeway (known here as HEB), and a Little Woodrow's sports bar all within walking distance of one another is great. And the charmless housing developments, unlike the ones in the Phoenix metro area, are relatively close to the heart of Austin and yet remain affordable. Not dirt cheap (except in undesirable areas, which is the same as in Phoenix), but affordable.
The heat/humidity are bearable, as long as you don't try to exert yourself outside. Even so, it's pretty unpleasant to walk outdoors at seven in the morning in July and feel suffocated by the air around you.
Though "Keep Austin Weird" is a local mantra, I guess I'm not struck by Austin's weirdness. Well, let me rephrase: Austin does not strike me as any more or less weird than many other college towns I've lived in and visited. Then again, maybe "weird" isn't the right word in the first place. Austin is certainly different in that it's a bunch of different places rolled into one. It's smack in the middle of red-state Texas, but if it were a state of its own, it would be blue. It's a haven for artists and musicians, but also for high tech dweebs. There are hippies here, but there are yuppies, too. There is a large gay/lesbian population, but they tend to mix in rather than stand out. (Seems like every woman I've tried to date here turns out to be a lesbian.) There are real, organic neighborhoods, but there is also suburban sprawl. Football is HUGE. There is a sub-culture dedicated to health and exercise, but there are other sub-cultures dedicated to Tex-Mex, booze, and cupcakes. Movie-making is serious business here, and a handful of movie stars make Austin their home. TV stars, too.
What else to say? Well, I constantly meet people who live here and say, "I love Austin." And before I moved here I said, "I love Austin." Now that I live here I say, "I like Austin." I do. But I can't say that the town is a revelation. It's not as if, having been here for a year, I say to myself, "Who knew that life could be like this? I should have come here years ago..." It definitely suits me for now, though, and I have no regrets about my decision to move here.
That, friends, is how Austin is.