Multiple out of town strangers have told me recently “you’re such an Austin guy” once they learn where I live. And I’m so proud of that. I grew up in El Paso in the 80s and 90s and the people I knew wanted to move to Austin. I don’t remember people talking about LA or NYC, Austin was the goal.
My parents had (seperately) been here in the 60s. I remember visiting as a teenager and it felt electric every time I visited. There were old buildings, big trees, and weird experiences unlike anything back home. The experience of going to Spider House as a teenager for the first time is burned in my soul. I remember seeing the Frost tower going up on my visits and being in awe.
I moved here in 2006. The drag still had rats. My gf (now wife) and I lived on S. Congress when it was still a little sketchy. Leslie was a constant presence. In the morning I rode the Dillo to work and watched the bats on their way home to the underside of the bridge after a night of hunting. The names I’d seen on the spines of books and DVD covers growing up became friends and colleagues. I remember the [original downtown] Alamo. I remember Mister Sinus Theater 3000. I’ve had a booth at the downtown farmer’s market and won a Best of Austin category in the Chronicle. So many Austin adventures. And now my daughter can say she was born here once she’s old enough to talk.
This isn’t a post about being elegiac for an Austin that was. Or a commentary on the Austin that is. I just realized I’m proud of myself for achieving my goal of being an Austinite.
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