I wanted to make a list of 10 things I really like about living here:
1. The birds will sometimes, usually at dusk, congregate in large numbers in trees and all sqwak at the same time. It makes Austin feel tropical--without that feeling of sweat rolling down your jeans.
2. Tacos. They are everywhere. And they're really really good.
3. I like the way the river looks. Buzzing across one of the bridges at night and seeing the reflection of the downtown lights on the river gives me an excited feeling. (See post #2 to get the real scoop though.)
4. The south side of town. It has a different feel, it's shabbier, it's skankier, it's so expensive that no one shabby or skanky will ever be able to afford a house there.
5. There are many eating establishments that I really enjoy here. Outdoor seating, laid back atmosphere, good food, sometimes it's cheap. And there's a great variety--anything you could think of you can get here.
6. Fresh Plus. There's a grocery store that is my idea of heaven. Small but varied, almost empty but friendly, clean and inviting. Not devastatingly expensive. All I want to do on the weekends is go to the grocery store.
7. uhm...this is getting harder...I was going to say I like my little house. But that's not Austin-specific; it's me-specific.
8. Nothing's coming.
9. I'm really trying too...and this is depressing.
10.
So, I got to 6. Maybe in 3 more months I'll find twice as much stuff that will sustain me here. Maybe not. I'm trying to keep my eyes open though.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Nothing but sweat inside my hand...
I feel there are enormous forces at work in my blogging...meaning, the more I write, the more the topics I write about begin to take on more complexity and take more thought-space in my brain. So much so, that if I were so inclined, I'd go back and rewrite almost all of what's already been written. But that's cheating (sort of), but I say it now because it makes this writing (to me at least) active and interactive, not set in stone or static. (This is a long way of saying, I might end up being wrong about some stuff.)
But before that day comes, if it comes at all, I'll address the third "golden promise" I feel was first set forth in the lure that brought me to the capital of Texas. This was the promise of a low cost of living in comparison to other medium to large US cities. With the way things are now--always, it seems, on the brink of total collapse--I really don't want to bitch about not having any money. It's bratty and inconsiderate to whine about not being able to eat Ethiopian more or go see some band that probably's going to make me hate music anyway (see post #1). I make enough money to live. I buy food thriftily, I don't buy clothes or music or other forms of entertainment (save beer, there must always be beer). I can pay rent, I can pay for my car, its insurance, my bills. Just barely, I can pay for these things.
So I understand it's not Austin's fault if I don't live the high life right now. But I still have a bone to pick and it's with the damn house prices in this town.
According to The Real Estate Center website, published by the Mays Business School at Texas A&M University, the average price of a home in Austin in January of 1990 was $89,700. The average price of a home in Austin in September of 2008 is $240,800. Yep, that's 260% increase over 18 years. But how does that compare with national averages? The National Associate of REALTORS (r) lists the national average price of a home as $234,700 and in the South that average price is $207,600 (listing for September 2008). You can read this paper, published by Brookings Papers, if you can make it through (I admit, I skipped ahead to the charts) to see a more in-depth analysis of the rise and fall (bubbles and stickiness as they put it) in the housing market in the US since 1975 and how that roller coaster affects all of us. Most importantly, check out the chart on page 42, where you can see the rise in house prices from 1975 at$52,000 to the peak of $390,000 in 2007.
I give this information to give you a glimpse that I understand I do not live in a vacuum. I know there is a large, intricately complex and almost impossible to understand crisis going on outside of my little unhappy world. I know people are losing their homes, losing credit, and losing jobs so I dare not try to fit this little complaint into the larger context. I don't even fully understand all the information I just wrote down in the above paragraph, but it seems to me that Austin is right there in the middle of this national trend. It's no San Fransisco (house prices-wise and otherwise) and it's certainly no rural town in Arkansas (where friends of mine are buying houses for $80,000 and less). It's snuggly there in between the two extremes.
Yet the salary averages are not. From AboutAustin.com, the most recent data available is from 2005 when the median household income was $67,300, which the website (arrogantly) puts in this nonsensical context:
"Thinking of moving but you're looking at a paycut if you do? A dollar in Austin goes further than a dollar in Boston. If you make $65,000 in Austin, you would need approximately the following annual income in these other US cities:
************************************************************************************
Ok, that's the numbers. Here's what life is like: there's no way that my husband and I, with jobs in our fields and for established businesses and organizations, will make enough money within the three-year trial period I'm making up to see if this experiment would work, to ever be able to afford a house in the neighborhoods we're interested in living in. Yes, I understand I just said "in the neighborhoods we're interested in living in." And yes, I understand there are other places to live. And that's the big BUT in this whole scenario.
But, those aren't the places we moved here to live in. Those aren't the places that were advertised as affordable, as attainable and those aren't the places I had in mind when I decided to move here. Yet another wave comes over me, a memory of how we spent all our savings, how we left a house that we enjoyed living in, in a neighborhood we loved, being able to save money or spend it if we had an occasion...Austin has, I feel, jipped me of what it said it was going to be. But the worst part is that I jiipped myself out of what was really a pretty terrific way of living.
But before that day comes, if it comes at all, I'll address the third "golden promise" I feel was first set forth in the lure that brought me to the capital of Texas. This was the promise of a low cost of living in comparison to other medium to large US cities. With the way things are now--always, it seems, on the brink of total collapse--I really don't want to bitch about not having any money. It's bratty and inconsiderate to whine about not being able to eat Ethiopian more or go see some band that probably's going to make me hate music anyway (see post #1). I make enough money to live. I buy food thriftily, I don't buy clothes or music or other forms of entertainment (save beer, there must always be beer). I can pay rent, I can pay for my car, its insurance, my bills. Just barely, I can pay for these things.
So I understand it's not Austin's fault if I don't live the high life right now. But I still have a bone to pick and it's with the damn house prices in this town.
According to The Real Estate Center website, published by the Mays Business School at Texas A&M University, the average price of a home in Austin in January of 1990 was $89,700. The average price of a home in Austin in September of 2008 is $240,800. Yep, that's 260% increase over 18 years. But how does that compare with national averages? The National Associate of REALTORS (r) lists the national average price of a home as $234,700 and in the South that average price is $207,600 (listing for September 2008). You can read this paper, published by Brookings Papers, if you can make it through (I admit, I skipped ahead to the charts) to see a more in-depth analysis of the rise and fall (bubbles and stickiness as they put it) in the housing market in the US since 1975 and how that roller coaster affects all of us. Most importantly, check out the chart on page 42, where you can see the rise in house prices from 1975 at$52,000 to the peak of $390,000 in 2007.
I give this information to give you a glimpse that I understand I do not live in a vacuum. I know there is a large, intricately complex and almost impossible to understand crisis going on outside of my little unhappy world. I know people are losing their homes, losing credit, and losing jobs so I dare not try to fit this little complaint into the larger context. I don't even fully understand all the information I just wrote down in the above paragraph, but it seems to me that Austin is right there in the middle of this national trend. It's no San Fransisco (house prices-wise and otherwise) and it's certainly no rural town in Arkansas (where friends of mine are buying houses for $80,000 and less). It's snuggly there in between the two extremes.
Yet the salary averages are not. From AboutAustin.com, the most recent data available is from 2005 when the median household income was $67,300, which the website (arrogantly) puts in this nonsensical context:
"Thinking of moving but you're looking at a paycut if you do? A dollar in Austin goes further than a dollar in Boston. If you make $65,000 in Austin, you would need approximately the following annual income in these other US cities:
- San Antonio: $56,314
- Phoenix: $58,465
- Salt Lake City: $63,182
- Austin: $65,000
- Houston: $65,651
- Denver: $65,730
- Ft. Worth: $66,246
- Dallas: $70,566
- Boston: $93,488
- Los Angeles: $96,183"
************************************************************************************
Ok, that's the numbers. Here's what life is like: there's no way that my husband and I, with jobs in our fields and for established businesses and organizations, will make enough money within the three-year trial period I'm making up to see if this experiment would work, to ever be able to afford a house in the neighborhoods we're interested in living in. Yes, I understand I just said "in the neighborhoods we're interested in living in." And yes, I understand there are other places to live. And that's the big BUT in this whole scenario.
But, those aren't the places we moved here to live in. Those aren't the places that were advertised as affordable, as attainable and those aren't the places I had in mind when I decided to move here. Yet another wave comes over me, a memory of how we spent all our savings, how we left a house that we enjoyed living in, in a neighborhood we loved, being able to save money or spend it if we had an occasion...Austin has, I feel, jipped me of what it said it was going to be. But the worst part is that I jiipped myself out of what was really a pretty terrific way of living.
Friday, November 14, 2008
It looks good, but why does it feel so bad?
After that first post, I let go a huge sigh of relief. I had some things I needed to say about this town! And I'd said them, or at least like 10% of them. And that makes me feel better. It makes me reflect on my griping and moaning and through that somehow, I'm able to see more positive aspects of Austin than I was able to see before. But I'm not done bitching yet.
To continue on through the list of golden promises set forth by this city and its inhabitants (the ones I've met mind you), I'd like to next discuss the "things to do" promise. As I said before, pre-move Austin seemed a veritable Pleasure Island...but a Pleasure Island for weirdos, like me. (If you don't remember Pleasure Island, go watch your Disney movies). Record conventions, drag shows, mustache contests, slip-n-slide parties, sock hops, Eastern European disco parties, you name it, it happened here. And by the way, I'm not making up anything on that list; that's all stuff that's actually happened here. So in that way, the city's delivered. It's true! There's wildly ridiculous stuff to do here almost every week, if not every weekend. That's what I was looking for! Why am I not happy then?! Why am I yelling all these questions?!
The closest to an answer that I've come up with yet is that same ole' nemesis that has haunted me all my days. That fucking problem that lies just outside my door, every day of my life, confronting me, testing me, bringing me to the brink of total self-destruction. That's right: it's other people.
I'm a misanthrope, just like everybody else. And I'm not going to try to make the case that I hate people more than most, or more than you. Shit, you're reading a blog which means you must not like actual interaction with other folks. But really, it's not that I don't like people, I just wish people were different than how they are. I wish they were nicer, were more interesting, had better taste in things, had something new or witty or inappropriate to say. On the whole, interactions with people are Boring. But I realize that there are times when this is expected, even dare I say, preferred. Take an office job for instance. Sure it's fun to work with someone who's always saying something that weirds everybody out (I almost always want to immediately ask them to go to lunch so we can discuss it), but my dislike for people being the way it is, I'd rather just have 1-2 second acknowledgments of others' existence and move on. Having good interaction with co-workers can highlight just how shitty and boring the rest of your day is and that sucks. So I say, keep it short, keep it boring, I'll wait for the copier in silence thank you and discuss your ugly shoes with my husband when I get home.
But, crazy parties are a different story. I expect nothing but witty banter, clever quips, genuinely funny stories and so on. There's nothing worse than having a boring conversation at a truly interesting party. I always feel like I'm being held against my will, like I'm missing the most interesting conversation that's going on just right over there and I have...............to..........get out............right...................now!
(This makes me a bad listener by the way. Notice that I'm not really into having a conversation per se, just being entertained. Hey, it may be shitty. At least I'm being honest about it.)
So finally, to Austin, to the reason for this whole thing. In my (limited in time but varied in theme) experience of going out in this town, to those crazy parties and get-togethers that must have been thought up by creative and talented people, I've been bored out of my mind. It's like the folks that thought up the party didn't actually go to the party. And there's a discouraging and gross lack of enthusiasm. For god's sake, if you go through the trouble of getting this whole thing together, you rent the venue and you get dressed up, JESUS! Can it kill you to act like you want to be there? Or you're excited about it?
Beyond that (which I ultimately think is just a product of being young and still believing in this thing called "cool") I haven't encountered a great conversation at one of these things yet. No talk of music, no talk of movies, no talk of politics (certainly not politics, how uncool.) Now to be fair, I have met a small group of dudes that have great conversations and have great taste in all the things that matter. It's very promising. The only hiccup--they like to have "Dude's nights" and guess who's not invited to those?
So I guess this is what I'm saying--the nightlife here in Austin looks great, but it feels like shit. I was at this thing a few nights ago at the Zilker Park Club House; it has an incredible view. You can see the entire city's skyline, from campus to downtown to the river and Zilker Park. It was beautiful. It looked like an exciting and bustling city; it looked like it was full of promise and youth; it looked as if it were there waiting for someone to just come experience it. And as I was looking at it, I couldn't shake what I really knew about the city--that all those crazy antics it loves to brag out, that weirdness it has tried to preserve and tout to the rest of the country, that it may all be just some good ideas that got ruined by their originators. And in their pursuit of weirdness, forgot somewhere along the way how to be actual people, with actual interests and view points and opinions worth sharing.
I'm gonna keep trying to find some interesting people to talk to, but if they're wearing a Keep Austin Wierd t-shirt, I know to just keeping on walking.
To continue on through the list of golden promises set forth by this city and its inhabitants (the ones I've met mind you), I'd like to next discuss the "things to do" promise. As I said before, pre-move Austin seemed a veritable Pleasure Island...but a Pleasure Island for weirdos, like me. (If you don't remember Pleasure Island, go watch your Disney movies). Record conventions, drag shows, mustache contests, slip-n-slide parties, sock hops, Eastern European disco parties, you name it, it happened here. And by the way, I'm not making up anything on that list; that's all stuff that's actually happened here. So in that way, the city's delivered. It's true! There's wildly ridiculous stuff to do here almost every week, if not every weekend. That's what I was looking for! Why am I not happy then?! Why am I yelling all these questions?!
The closest to an answer that I've come up with yet is that same ole' nemesis that has haunted me all my days. That fucking problem that lies just outside my door, every day of my life, confronting me, testing me, bringing me to the brink of total self-destruction. That's right: it's other people.
I'm a misanthrope, just like everybody else. And I'm not going to try to make the case that I hate people more than most, or more than you. Shit, you're reading a blog which means you must not like actual interaction with other folks. But really, it's not that I don't like people, I just wish people were different than how they are. I wish they were nicer, were more interesting, had better taste in things, had something new or witty or inappropriate to say. On the whole, interactions with people are Boring. But I realize that there are times when this is expected, even dare I say, preferred. Take an office job for instance. Sure it's fun to work with someone who's always saying something that weirds everybody out (I almost always want to immediately ask them to go to lunch so we can discuss it), but my dislike for people being the way it is, I'd rather just have 1-2 second acknowledgments of others' existence and move on. Having good interaction with co-workers can highlight just how shitty and boring the rest of your day is and that sucks. So I say, keep it short, keep it boring, I'll wait for the copier in silence thank you and discuss your ugly shoes with my husband when I get home.
But, crazy parties are a different story. I expect nothing but witty banter, clever quips, genuinely funny stories and so on. There's nothing worse than having a boring conversation at a truly interesting party. I always feel like I'm being held against my will, like I'm missing the most interesting conversation that's going on just right over there and I have...............to..........get out............right...................now!
(This makes me a bad listener by the way. Notice that I'm not really into having a conversation per se, just being entertained. Hey, it may be shitty. At least I'm being honest about it.)
So finally, to Austin, to the reason for this whole thing. In my (limited in time but varied in theme) experience of going out in this town, to those crazy parties and get-togethers that must have been thought up by creative and talented people, I've been bored out of my mind. It's like the folks that thought up the party didn't actually go to the party. And there's a discouraging and gross lack of enthusiasm. For god's sake, if you go through the trouble of getting this whole thing together, you rent the venue and you get dressed up, JESUS! Can it kill you to act like you want to be there? Or you're excited about it?
Beyond that (which I ultimately think is just a product of being young and still believing in this thing called "cool") I haven't encountered a great conversation at one of these things yet. No talk of music, no talk of movies, no talk of politics (certainly not politics, how uncool.) Now to be fair, I have met a small group of dudes that have great conversations and have great taste in all the things that matter. It's very promising. The only hiccup--they like to have "Dude's nights" and guess who's not invited to those?
So I guess this is what I'm saying--the nightlife here in Austin looks great, but it feels like shit. I was at this thing a few nights ago at the Zilker Park Club House; it has an incredible view. You can see the entire city's skyline, from campus to downtown to the river and Zilker Park. It was beautiful. It looked like an exciting and bustling city; it looked like it was full of promise and youth; it looked as if it were there waiting for someone to just come experience it. And as I was looking at it, I couldn't shake what I really knew about the city--that all those crazy antics it loves to brag out, that weirdness it has tried to preserve and tout to the rest of the country, that it may all be just some good ideas that got ruined by their originators. And in their pursuit of weirdness, forgot somewhere along the way how to be actual people, with actual interests and view points and opinions worth sharing.
I'm gonna keep trying to find some interesting people to talk to, but if they're wearing a Keep Austin Wierd t-shirt, I know to just keeping on walking.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Like living among the undead, all clad in burnt orange
...this is Austin?
I recently moved to Austin from the Ozark Mountains. The move was preceded by months of preparation, multiple visits, interviews, house-hunting and giddy feelings of an impending adventure. Austin, and its inhabitants we happened to already know or who we just met, had always promised the good life--in all its permutations: a kick-ass job; music in abundance; endlessly eccentric things to do, from mustache contests to 80s skate nights; food, food and more food; low cost of living and the consequent prosperity that would make doing all of the above possible.
I've been here for 3 months and boy, am I disappointed.
Let's talk about shows first: there are hundreds a week. More than anyone could ever fit in, no matter what kind of work schedule you have. No matter if you don't have a work schedule. In the last few months, I have seen some great shows, but I've also missed an equal number of interesting-sounding ones. And I'd be lying if I said it was because I didn't want to stay up that late. The truth is I'm too damn poor to go to these shows. (We'll get to the "low cost of living" later.) But there's another reason...a more sinister and self-fulfilling reason. I'll explain to you like this:
Let's say you live in a place that has some kind of music scene. Let's even say it's wanning and a little sad, but still there are venues and kids get together and play around and they can find/afford practice space. It's a little music scene...it looks like this:
X X X X
X X X X
These Xs are bands and yeah, they're probably not that great, but one is probably not bad, or even pretty good, showing potential at least. And as it mostly goes, the first X band will probably break up and some if its members will join the fourth X band or join up with the remains of the fifth and sixth X band members. It works itself out right? And usually (hopefully) the bands get a bit better over time. Over the time they spend in their community.
Austin's music scene looks like this:
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxXX
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
And so on and so on for hundreds of more lines. The reason for this bad visual analogy is that there's no room for these bands to move or grow. They just play their shitty little sets night after night in the same bars for the same bored people. Worse than that, some of it is not just boring, it's soul-crushing. Some of the worst music I've ever had to endure has been local Austin bands. I'm talking fucking horrible--self-mutilation-inducing shit. Music that sounds like it's made by deaf people.
I'll say it unequivocally: Austin has the WORST local music in the country. And it's textbook irony, because there are probably more shows played here a year than anywhere else in the country. (It is of course "The Live Music Capitol of the World"--I'll get to how fond this town is of giving itself mottos, catchphrases and other annoying titles later.) Any night of the week you can catch the worst 10 shows being played right then on the planet (that's a motto right there). And that's what this town brags about!
Just the first of many nagging observations about how I feel I've been jipped. There'll be much more to come.
And post-script: I'll address two points right of the bat--I understand that I'm focusing on the negative. At least here I am. That's because my days here are consumed with trying to find something positive, something that will improve daily existence. This is my outlet and hopefully, it will serve me well as catharsis and as a means to move on to the next big thing.
Second, the reason for using a blog to voice these frustrations is because everyone who lives here (whom I've encountered thus far) thinks this place is the center of the fucking universe. It's the shitty cherry on the top of the goddamn sundae. No one else seems to perceive these downfalls--even the ones that I'm not exaggerating! It seriously feels like I missed a mass brain-washing session, like I didn't get the little pill or cup of kool-aid at the city limits and I'm out here alone, wading through a sea of the undead--all in that horrible baby-diarrhea orange color.
I recently moved to Austin from the Ozark Mountains. The move was preceded by months of preparation, multiple visits, interviews, house-hunting and giddy feelings of an impending adventure. Austin, and its inhabitants we happened to already know or who we just met, had always promised the good life--in all its permutations: a kick-ass job; music in abundance; endlessly eccentric things to do, from mustache contests to 80s skate nights; food, food and more food; low cost of living and the consequent prosperity that would make doing all of the above possible.
I've been here for 3 months and boy, am I disappointed.
Let's talk about shows first: there are hundreds a week. More than anyone could ever fit in, no matter what kind of work schedule you have. No matter if you don't have a work schedule. In the last few months, I have seen some great shows, but I've also missed an equal number of interesting-sounding ones. And I'd be lying if I said it was because I didn't want to stay up that late. The truth is I'm too damn poor to go to these shows. (We'll get to the "low cost of living" later.) But there's another reason...a more sinister and self-fulfilling reason. I'll explain to you like this:
Let's say you live in a place that has some kind of music scene. Let's even say it's wanning and a little sad, but still there are venues and kids get together and play around and they can find/afford practice space. It's a little music scene...it looks like this:
X X X X
X X X X
These Xs are bands and yeah, they're probably not that great, but one is probably not bad, or even pretty good, showing potential at least. And as it mostly goes, the first X band will probably break up and some if its members will join the fourth X band or join up with the remains of the fifth and sixth X band members. It works itself out right? And usually (hopefully) the bands get a bit better over time. Over the time they spend in their community.
Austin's music scene looks like this:
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxXX
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
And so on and so on for hundreds of more lines. The reason for this bad visual analogy is that there's no room for these bands to move or grow. They just play their shitty little sets night after night in the same bars for the same bored people. Worse than that, some of it is not just boring, it's soul-crushing. Some of the worst music I've ever had to endure has been local Austin bands. I'm talking fucking horrible--self-mutilation-inducing shit. Music that sounds like it's made by deaf people.
I'll say it unequivocally: Austin has the WORST local music in the country. And it's textbook irony, because there are probably more shows played here a year than anywhere else in the country. (It is of course "The Live Music Capitol of the World"--I'll get to how fond this town is of giving itself mottos, catchphrases and other annoying titles later.) Any night of the week you can catch the worst 10 shows being played right then on the planet (that's a motto right there). And that's what this town brags about!
Just the first of many nagging observations about how I feel I've been jipped. There'll be much more to come.
And post-script: I'll address two points right of the bat--I understand that I'm focusing on the negative. At least here I am. That's because my days here are consumed with trying to find something positive, something that will improve daily existence. This is my outlet and hopefully, it will serve me well as catharsis and as a means to move on to the next big thing.
Second, the reason for using a blog to voice these frustrations is because everyone who lives here (whom I've encountered thus far) thinks this place is the center of the fucking universe. It's the shitty cherry on the top of the goddamn sundae. No one else seems to perceive these downfalls--even the ones that I'm not exaggerating! It seriously feels like I missed a mass brain-washing session, like I didn't get the little pill or cup of kool-aid at the city limits and I'm out here alone, wading through a sea of the undead--all in that horrible baby-diarrhea orange color.
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