Austinique

Things about Austin, the long and short of it:

The traffic is surprising for a city this size, but considering the city in question I suppose it is to be expected. Austin is surely an “oasis in the desert” for counterculture, so you could see why people flock here to be among like minded souls. Perhaps one day the city population and traffic will sync up.

I finally found Austin’s downtown and I must declare that it is The Cutest Downtown I Have Ever Seen in My Life. It was on the way to the Alamo Drafthouse, as it turns out. For the remainder of my time in Austin, every time I drove by or through it, I screamed at it as though it were a basket of baby highland cows, you know the kind you can carry around? I managed to take some lame, gray day pictures, shared here, but Google has plenty of better shots so look at those, too. It’s a major Squeee. Cutest downtown everrr.

I also finally found the “weird” in Austin, though to me it just looked like Brooklyn. Lots and lots of tats, long beards, multicolored hair, and newsboy caps, so many newsboy caps. I’m guessing that fashion sense, the art and music scene, and the far more lefty leaning political sensibilities are the “weird” part, but God willing (YES I SAID GOD DID I STUTTER) it will only get more like that, not less. I dragged 6th street, with its vibrant scene of bars, restaurants, clubs, and noise, even though it was the bright of day and I never intended to Hit the Scene, I just ended up there and everyone was driving 5 mph so, you know, go with the flow, try to look fly in my momcar. It was around this area where I happened to see one of those pedal-yourself-and-drink-beer-trolleys, which made me laugh and then twisted my stomach a little because all I could think was how that constant motion would make all the beer and food in your gut go churnchurnchurn. I wonder how many people hurl after or even during the ride.

Come play wif us, Danneeeeee

The Alamo Drafthouse is worthy of the hype. The South Lamar location had tons of cool old movie posters, funhouse embellishments, and the greatest touch of all: the long carpet of the Overlook Hotel extending to the back wall where a huge print completed the picture. Iconic. I also loved the surrounding area, with 2cool 4school apartments across the street and lovely murals on the way into the parking garage. I am especially glad I saw Get Out there. It was a phenomenal movie and the surreal, mesmerizing aspects were only heightened by experiencing it in a strange place among strange strangers. I’ve been thinking about that movie since I saw it—the effects of which I’ve chronicled to some degree here, but still I turn it over and over in my hands and marvel at it. It’s not the greatest movie of all time, but it is one of those rare movies that nestles into your brain and rewires you a bit, even if for just a little while. This takes a great deal of skill, and Jordan Peele has managed to create something vivid, blistering, hysterical, excruciating, and permanent.

One of the great parts of the Alamo Drafthouse experience is getting to eat real food while watching the movie. It’s not an alien concept at this point, of course, since we have the same services at the downtown Warren in Wichita (and there are similar offerings all over the country), but I rarely go out to the movies and have only experienced this type of movie going experience once (which was a horrifying disaster), so it felt exotic to me. The pricing is completely reasonable, and you get fast service and great food. I ordered the Royale with Cheeseburger and a Dr. Pepper. The fries were yummy but the burger was sublime. I know people love bacon on things, and I don’t exactly disagree, but I am a Fussbudget McFussypants about how it is prepared. I hate the fatty part, but I can eat it if it is almost burnt. This burger featured crunchy smoked bacon, with no fatty or rubbery grossness, cooked well done and just perfect. The burger itself was juicy with lots of flavor. A++

On to San Antonio ever so briefly, then it’s camp-o-rama!

I have no idea what's goin on.

Hampton Branch at Oak Hill, Austin, Texas

Everything feels skewed and strange, but I'm probably still discombobulated from watching Get Out at the Alamo Drafthouse yesterday. There are many across the city, I chose the South Lamar location due to its proximity to the Ruiz library and the fact that it played standard flix (as opposed to the closest location, which only had "art house" showings at later times...I am not sure I would consider The Warriors an art house movie, though it is life changing).

Get Out is smart, cutting, and uncomfortable; it is in many ways the cinematic equivalent of side eye. Good God, Allison Williams with that goddamned bowl of Fruit Loops, glass of milk, having the "time of her life"? I just about fell out of the chair. It pinches in all the soft parts, and if you don't squirm and groan at least once, you are clearly missing the point. Mixing the sociological incongruities and injustices with straight up horror is just brilliant. I don't think I've ever rooted quite so hard for a protagonist (Daniel Kaluuya, shattering) in my life, especially since horror fans are all too aware of the vicious Night of the Living Dead conclusion, where we learn the hard, cold truth that there really is no justice, no fairness, just an ugly white light of the now.

When I pulled up to the Hampton Branch at Oak Hill this morning, the dissociation was still lingering. I felt a little exposed and a lot spread thin, seeing things through a fantastical lens (more on that in a minute) that was not entirely bad, at least until I entered the library.

It is a very small space. All previous small libraries I've documented were nowhere near as small. The only space reserved for deskwork is dead smack in the center of the library's main expressway: On one side, the DVD collection, on the other side, children's books. I had to put on my headphones to block out the constant noise.

It is a library due for refurbishment (it says so on the website) but they have a pretty large collection of books for such a small space. The library is clean and well kept, though, as the website would suggest, new carpet, chairs, etc., would make a huge difference.

What threw me off, especially this morning, was how strange everyone seemed when I walked in through the main doors. The way front desk staff treats patrons when they first arrive makes every difference to people like me (anxiety prone, hyper sensitive, especially when freefloating and not quite "anchored in"). Two women were speaking together at the front desk, then stopped and looked at me pointedly--one beat, two beats, three. I charged forward (never retreat--it is the instinct but feels so much worse in the long run) trying to keep my expression neutral because I know more often than not it is my imagination running wild, and nothing more insidious than that. But the feeling persisted. Since I've been here, the hustle and bustle of this library has been nothing short of Soviet-propaganda-film levels of industry, and for such a small library it's just plain weird. I don't know, perhaps they haven't shelved books in weeks and today is the Big Day. People, people everywhere. All glancing far too often for no logical reason.

My decision to use AirBNB on this trip is a very conscious effort to confront my discomfort in other people's homes. So far my experiences have been mostly positive, but there is always an undercurrent of self consciousness; I am a stranger occupying someone else's space and I am never really welcome. Even if I am, it doesn't matter: In my head, I do not belong here. Most of the libraries I've visited feel like deliberately public spaces. They are a blank slate, an open arena that no one owns and everyone belongs. The Hampton at Oak Hill feels quite the opposite, so it's best I keep it brief. I am going to do some research then book it out of here.

There was one thing, though. That fantastical bit? When I pulled up I found a perfect, shady space at the back of the lot, right on the edge of a large greenspace with two curious indentations.

A giant sat upon yon field.

Ruiz Branch Library, Austin, Texas

So far, Austin has been a series of endless highways with brief moments in the city itself. Last night, I tried to just drive around to get a sense of the place and I regretted it immediately. Austin is nothing if not choked with cars, cars, trucks, big trucks, construction vehicles, and more trucks. You have to have the patience of a newt to mentally deal with Austin traffic. (Why newt? Because I know newts. These little turds would rather starve than give you the satisfaction of successfully feeding them. Of course this was college, their habitat was not great, and if I had to do it over again, Never Newts, leave them in nature where they belong, but ya know, hindsight and all that. Have you ever tried to force feed a newt? They are the size of a nickle and they hate you with every fiber of their being and are slippery in their rage against the giant hand.)

I am not even sure if Austin has a downtown--perhaps I will try to locate it tomorrow. Today I am doing the the Alamo Drafthouse thing, though I will not be experiencing it as most, I am sure, think it should be experienced (with alcohol), it will be a Real Austin thing to do and I am really looking forward to it. I've chosen one of the "Hollywood" locations that plays standard fair on a schedule throughout the day (sorry, arthouse is not in myhouse) and plan to make the 4:15 showing of Get Out, the only movie I've been interested in seeing lately. I am leaving insanely early, however, because God knows how long it will take to get there, since it is just blocks away. An hour? An hour should be good.

It was another highway journey to get to the Ruiz Branch Library this morning, and I was glad that the payoff was so steep. This library is gorgeous. When you walk in, the ceiling soars high above and you get this phenomenal sense of space that is, as it turns out, well conceived and utilized. The front desk is tucked to the right and the meeting rooms are tucked to the left, while the computer banks and a main reading area are straight ahead.

Behind the computers are the stacks, the style of which I will call Erin's Idea of Awesome, circa 1998, when I was big into buying picture frames from Umbra and they all basically looked like this: pine or cherry wood with black accents. You know how you become blind to certain things? Like, I have no idea if Duran Duran is a good band or what. My little 11-year-old brain caught fire with the very idea of them in 1983 and I've been branded and oblivious ever since. I am guessing they are good? Because of popularity and not just cuuuuuteness? But I have no idea. Every song is gold. Forever. Some people are like that about wicker furniture, fancy oil lamps, chicken ornaments. And this is how I am about my Umbra frames. To me, they are Forever Magnificent. And so are these stacks.

At one side of the Ruiz you will find these tiny little window seats, each with its own electrical outlet, which I find highly weird (go Austin!), charming, and kind of nuts. I have yet to see anyone utilize one (the seats are wooden and look hard) but it is a nice idea if not exactly an inviting execution.

The best part--the only part--is the back wall where all the work desks reside. Oh happy day! There are plenty of desks, everyone gets and outlet, and the view is beautiful, green and shining. Several large bugs have smacked their improbably heavy bodies against the glass which makes me both unnerved (bugz) and dorkily imperious (ha, you cannot get me in my glass and steel spaceship).

Ruiz is a great little library though as I write this, two troublemakers have set up camp right behind me and are chattering away, loudly and without concern about anyone around them. Soooo, maybe I will head out for that movie now...ah! Quote of the Day:

Female Companion: "Shh."

Rude-Ass Male M-Effer: "IF I WANTED TO BE QUIET, I'D GO TO CHURCH."

Bye.