my my head automatica,

I meant to make the next five days a sort of tribute to Texas but as usual my head went into automatic slouch mode, even in the midst of a personally momentous event, well, here I am so lets get to it. I stopped in the last post in mid praise of Pinkie, all that and a bowl of chili if I recall.

Okay, to the next point. Well I lived in what is somewhat of the outskirts of Austin, up by Duval and 183 and it wasn't a half bad neighborhood. Extremely quiet. Too quiet. If you don't have a car, your proper fooked!

Thats one thing I absolutely miss about NYC, the access to public transportation anywhere and anytime, almost anytime. The on time rate here is pretty good. Buses basically come when they're supposed to, but too far in between for such a small city.

Austin is experiencing such immense growth and for their infrastructure and what the people are used to here, it is a big deal here. Boycotts and town hall meeting fighting certain big name businesses from building in Austin-- part of the Keep Austin Weird phenomena--- as well fighting against a metro-line to connect northern regions like Round Rock to downtown Austin, as well as the making of some toll roads which helped to clear up traffic and pay for heavy Austin projects.

There are lots of projects going on in Austin as far as economic growth, apartment buildings going up everywhere(of course, many Austinites absolutely abhor this and I can't blame them for that, even though I am accustomed to that being the path to a real city, it doesn't necessarily have to be that way and Austin natives are trying to do their best to make their own path, hats off to them for their vision, for the fight to Keep Austin Weird). You can keep your weird all you want Austin. Nothing compares to the feeling one gets walking on a late Manhattan afternoon in a heavy jacket, thick jeans, gloves, woolen cap and scarf tight around the neck, a cup of coffee in hand, the high gray buildings at your shoulders, the high gray sky on their shoulders, steam rising from sidewalk grates and through the holes in the manhole covers, orange and white coned vents puffing hefty gobs of white smoke into the air, the smell of a vendor roasting peanuts, the sound of traffic rushing like metallic land-sharks in a feeding frenzy, people rustling about, single minded and off to where ever they are always rushing off to, subways, taxi backseats, city parks, restaurants and offices, the late Autumn chill and that something akin to crisp burning leaves that makes you feels like it could snow at any moment. Thats what I want. I don't want weird.

There is a tinge of that sensation here and it comes about in early December and lasts for a minute and then poof, like Kaiser Sause, its gone, or as I've often wondered about our Hungarian madman, 'did it ever really exist?'

I enjoy the New York winter just as much as I enjoy the Central Texan spring/summer, two seasons topped easily on one another like scoops of vanilla ice cream lazing in a cup. This phenomena happens from February to October. Its quite pleasant, when its not raining 60 % of a four month period(which is actually a blessing, even if dozens of people get swept away in flash floods) or if it isn't bursting over 100 degrees everyday for the entire month of August and more(thats where the excessive rain actually helps, keeps the ground from catching fire and the lakes, streams and creeks from drying up).

Its a mixed bag of all the same flavors, just made by different brands. Like the BBQ. Sorry Austin, but Stubbs and Rudy's and Green Mesquite taste almost all the same to me. Of course, being a New Yorker, I'm no 'real' BBQ expert but i know dry meat and simple flavors well enough and I think Poke-e-Jo's has you all you snobby BBQ joints beat.. So Yippy-Ki-Ay muthaf*%#@$s!

To almost anyone who has lived through a Yankee winter or three and that goes for those freaks from Oregon straight through to Michigan and round about Illinois and into Ohio and such, a central Texan spring/summer free-for-all season is better than one endless winter in New York and I understand that. Thats a fare conclusion to make.

This jerk, this jerk loves his my changing of the seasons, ones where you can tell they are actually changing and a cold night is 10 degrees, sometimes below zero, not 40 or 50 degrees with the random ice storm once every three years throws seemingly normal folk into a tizzy.
I love my thick skull caps, my scarves, my gloves and my long johns, my sniffling nose from cold air, not from a rampant assault of Texan ragweed, mold or cedar allergens. I love my warm portly frame tucked under a thick comforter while the room around me is cool enough for me to see my own breath, well, maybe not that cool, but if its cold, its cold because its cold outside, seriously cold, not because I left the A/C on all night.

Alright, I lived up on the outskirts of Austin, toiled everyday with often aggravating yet rewarding renovation and contracting projects. I mean renovating as rewarding as far as I having learned a bit about that area of the workforce and although I am far from an expert in any of it, I can surely be added on a construction crew and have the basic know how to blend in easily enough. Like I said, I'm no expert, but I'm glad for the knowledge I've learned in the struggle, as Einstein said, "knowledge IS experience, everything else is just information."

Due to the not so much unforeseen yet temporary fizzling out of friendship with my then roommate Big Casino(he who took me in and got me work, etc.. I think I already thanked him, don't push it, he he), I left the neighborhood of Duval and 183 and with yet more help from another super come through in a pinch friend extraordinaire, Miss Pinkie, I got an apartment down in West Campus.

West Campus is an almost exclusively a University of Texas student neighborhood. My apartment at Viewpoint, 26th and Leon street was only 6 blocks west of Guadalupe street and the UT campus. Guadalupe, a.k.a The Drag is the main artery that runs north to south. From 29th street to MLK it is a very busy place, primarily during school time. College kids, frat/sorority folks and hipsters unite to make it a few bustling blocks of pizza and sub shops, copy stores, boutiques, bookstores, a tattoo parlors, a Scientology headquarters and a few bars here and there. Its alright for people watchers, especially the kind who like gorgeous Texan young women. I swear they produce them like widgets somewhere out in the sticks in ultra mass quantities and ship them off to Austin. They are everywhere, blondes, brunettes, redheads, Asian, black, latino; all types, all beautiful. That'll be something I truly will miss about leaving Austin.

On The Drag is where i've been working for the last year and a half. Nothing special, definitely not the job my college education and 30 odd years of life warrants me working for as long as I did, but I settled, my bad and now I am seriously ready to move on, back to NYC, to make money and work at learning a new skill; to find myself a career. Its long overdue. Its time.

The Castilian, a private college dormitory across the street from UT hasn't been a bad place to work. Frankly, the only few things I had to deal with taht irked me was the pay, the dealing with random obnoxious, know-it-all students, the 40 year old, schizophrenic elevator system that was the bane of my shifts. Oh yeah, I work at night, 11:00-7:30 a.m. Sunday through Friday morning. I have gotten use to it, but I'm ready to break that pattern and return to having a more normal schedule and having the Life that goes along with that. I'm just ready for real change.

a cut in the wall,

The Mallet