A Stint in Austin

Hey baby

Austin's official slogan is the "live music capital of the world." Those words pretty much about sum up my first time in Austin when I was there a year and a half ago; almost my entire weekend was spent at Austin City Limits. While ACL was magical in its own right - after all, it marked the first time I've ever seen Fleet Foxes perform live (*cue wistful sigh*) - it didn't lend itself to seeing much of the its namesake city. In fact after that weekend every time somebody found out that I'd been to Austin their eyes would light up and they would say "Isn't Austin great? I love that city!" I would "Mmhmm" and nod and sort of secretly wish I'd actually seen enough of the city to form even a nascent opinion of it.

So this time, the boy and I headed down south with Austin's unofficial slogan - "keep Austin weird" - as the theme of our weekend. Things certainly got off to a pretty weird start with us running in the third annual Austin Gorilla Run, a 5k that raises monies toward mountain gorilla conservation efforts. This race was actually the catalyst that inspired the trip - when I first found out it was taking place on the same weekend as our MLK 3-day weekend, I just knew I was destined to run through Austin in a gorilla suit. I just knew.

There's nothing quite like donning a three-pound onesie generously covered in thick black synthetic hair and traipsing through a city with a couple hundred like-minded runners on a sunny Saturday morning. It was a riot to see the costumes and getups that people had crafted for this race. Gorillas in tutus, on unicycles, chasing banana'ed runners...compared to everyone else there, the boy and I almost looked normal in our plain gorilla suits...almost.

I found Mr. Fabulous

Now to answer the question everyone always asks: what's it like to run in a gorilla costume? With the mask on - all sorts of hot and horrible. I decided at once that that was not going to happen. (That being dying of asphyxiation in a gorilla suit.) Life was considerably much more enjoyable with the mask off; the rest of the suit just felt like a huge jumper and I was rather grateful for it in the nippy early morning. During the race at around the two mile mark, it definitely became more of a nuisance - the first thing I did after crossing the finish line was un-velcro myself and gulp down some water to cool myself off.

To my surprise, I managed to place in third place among the ladies with my 23:01 time! My first and probably last time doing so. While I'll be the first to admit that this certainly wasn't a competitive race - a lot of gorillas walked, biked, or jogged - placing still felt pretty great. And coincidentally, the boy also placed 3rd among male runners, with a 19:37 run time. Whoo!

Skipping to get my medal! Oh yeah.

There was a great after race party with free beer from a local brewery, live music, and a lot of gorilla-on-gorilla mingling. I can't decide which was my favorite moment: cheering on a dozen gorillas who were line dancing in unison, or getting to pet a 6 week old Brittany puppy with the bluest eyes I've ever seen.

Holy mother of God, this was a good-looking puppy.

Some post-run chow was definitely in order. Since we were in the neighborhood, we decided to check out South Congress Cafe, where I carb loaded with duck and oyster gumbo and then found more room for eggs benedict.

We spent the rest of the day hanging out in the SoCo area checking out the vintage/thrift stores, scoping out the local art, and eating an ungodly amount of food. I've heard of people likening SoCo to Chicago's Wicker Park or San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury but in my opinion it was way more artsy and laid-back and gave off less judge-y vibes, for lack of a better description. I was pleasantly surprised by how diverse the locals looked. In the midwest I think sometimes we tend to fall into a more or less standard North Face yuppie uniform and everybody sort of starts to start looking the same (huge generalization, I know...). In Austin I was fascinated by the wide the range of people's appearances. A typical moment looked like this: on the main street, a twenty-something-year old hipster couple walk hand-in-hand, his-and-hers cowboy boots tucked over their skinny jeans. An extremely well-preserved lady bounces by them clutching a latte (nonfat, I'm sure) in her manicured fingers and looking like an advertisement for Lulu Lemon. Meanwhile on the opposite side of the street an older black man sits in bench, keeping cool in a fedora hat and surveying the world passing by him through purple-tinted John Lennon sunglasses.

My favorite memory about SoCo was stumbling into a small open area under some trees where a live band was playing and folks were gathered around drinking beer, dancing and generally engaging in family-friendly merrymaking. For almost an hour I found myself sitting underneath a great old oak tree with my belly very full and my mind a little tipsy as I hung out with the boy and enjoyed some great live music. A little slice of heaven.

The night ended with a visit to Esther's Follies, a long-running show in the downtown 6th street area that is part sketch comedy, part musical, and part magic show. I walked into the show feeling pretty wiped after a long day and skeptical of what was in store ahead (...magic? um). An hour and a half later, I walked out with a huge stupid grin plastered on my face from having so thoroughly enjoyed my experience. Esther's Follies was brilliant, old-school entertainment at its best. Hilarious actors, incredible talent, and well-written content brought constant gasps, shouts, and eruptions of giggles from the audience members. It might have even given the Second City a run for its money. I loved how the show was interactive both with audience members (those poor, poor audience members...) and with the large window behind the stage that looked out onto a busy intersection of downtown where random players would pop up to "accessorize" what was going on inside on stage. The boy and I agreed that the jewels performances were a.) a sketch featuring the governor explaining Texas breaking into five separate states and b.) all the magician's acts. The latter were incredible and kept us guessing well after we'd walked out of the theater. 

Our second day in Austin was much more relaxed. We took a lazy stroll around the waterfront among the company of many active people (runners, roller bladers, speed walkers) and their even more active off-the-leash canine companions, all of whom looked like they were in doggie heaven as they ran about sniffing each other's butts and jumping into the water to fetch balls. Oh, the simple life.

We also found some contraptions known as "water bikes" and felt compelled to try them out. Yolo!

For lunch we stopped at Torchy's Tacos at the recommendation by some locals, and boy it did not disappoint. Instructions for approaching Torchy's are as follows: Do not be fooled by its humble food truck-y experience. Go straight to the counter and order as many tacos as you can ingest in one sitting. Make sure the baja shrimp is one of them because that one was particularly fucking scrumptious. Briefly ponder the meaning of life, then order one more taco. Then notice the smoothie truck right next to Torchy's. Find a picnic bench and sip on your mango smoothie while the seconds stretch into millennia as you await your delicious taco fiesta with bated breath and pooling drivel. Look up and see a friendly Torchy's employee set a platter of tacos down in front of you. Whisper thanks to whatever deity you believe made this moment possible. Then go to town.

We spent that afternoon relaxing in a park and greedily lapping up the last rays of sunshine that our vitamin D-deprived bodies so badly craved. On the way back to the hotel, we had to go on a detour, which invariably led to us becoming lost, but the upside is that we got to drive through a very affluent and hilly neighborhood and admire the houses therein/make fun of what we imagined their owners' lives and first world problems were like. Side note: I like getting lost in unfamiliar cities. It's always a little adventure.

Found this in the park near where I was laying. Does anyone else think it vaguely looks like China? Or am I just crazy.

My trip to Austin ended on a very low-key note: a big ole bowl of pho later found me tucked in bed and watching Breaking Bad until I drifted off to sleep. In the morning, we enjoyed brunch in an adorable French restaurant and then packed up the rental car to zip back to DFW airport.

Adieu, Austin.

What an incredible weekend - Austin sure was good to me. I definitely walked away feeling like I'd gotten a taste of that "weird" flavor the locals cherished so much. Several times I contemplated moving there. All the Torchy's and live music I could handle...certainly a tempting thought. 

Breaking Bad

Let's get methed up.

In the past month or so I've started watching Breaking Bad, an immensely popular television show on AMC that you likely have already heard of (unless you've been dwelling beneath a boulder as of late). I'm only about halfway into the second season but have started forming some thoughts on the show thus far. There might be some light spoilers ahead, but nothing that should prevent anyone who hasn't watched the show from enjoying it.

The plot is pretty straightforward: high school chemistry teacher Walter White is diagnosed with lung cancer at a relatively severe stage. In order to pay for his expensive treatments and to secure his family's financial future, he takes up cooking and selling meth with the help of an old student of his, Jesse Pinkman. Turns out, Walter is quite the innovative meth maker and shrewd businessman. But in pursuing his newfound source of income he finds himself spinning a web of lies to his pregnant wife and non-pregnant son, fraternizing with increasingly salty characters, and cooking up just as much trouble through getting himself into absurd and often-dangerous schemes as through his infamous batches of methamphetamine. 

I think there are several key ingredients that together make Breaking Bad a rather excellent show, the most prominent being that curious element of death. Death is universal, innate, and in the context of Breaking Bad, introduced right from the first episode (and subsequently present in every episode thereafter). Now we mere mortals have a natural tendency to feel both terrified of and fascinated by death. As such, our understanding that Walter is closer to death than most of us (as far as we know) makes him somehow different. Certainly we feel sympathy for him. But the cancer in his lungs also elevates him somehow. It makes every movement or every word that much more...important? That's not the right word. Final, perhaps then. By watching Walter White we get a glimpse into the mindset of somebody who carries a burden that we do not have. Breaking Bad indulges and lets us fulfill our somewhat morbid enjoyment of what it'd feel like to be closer to straddling that line between life and death.

As a result of our fear of and obsession with death, the desperation and the degradation of Walter White become fascinating to watch. We cheer him on as he quits his side job in a wild fit (haven't we all fantasized about maniacally scrabbling the shit around us and stomping furiously out of a room?). We see him grab his wife and kiss her with igniting passion. We watch him shoot guns and steal shit and kill adversaries and get away with all things bad-ass that completely cross the bounds of his pre-cancer suburban life. It's all just so goddamn exciting because Walt is otherwise such a boring, safe person - just like us - but now he gets to do all this awesome reckless explosion-happy shit because hell, he's gonna kick the bucket soon anyway. This dichotomy of death plays a huge role in the show. Lung cancer, such a boring and invisible force, is the tortoise of death that plods on in the midst of of Walter's hare-like high-action schemes. 

Something else I'm starting to really appreciate about Breaking Bad is the depth of each and every character. In this show nobody is one dimensional and in my opinion Walter is by far the most complex character...as he probably should be. At times I find myself fervently supporting Walter, at others he is just disgusting and hurtful. It's difficult to predict what he'll do or what crazy idea will arise from that bald, ingenious head of his. But it's not only Walter who is complex. Everybody has his or her own vices and redeeming qualities. Even the bad guys are captivating! Take Tuco, for example. He scared the shit out of me. I believed he was wholeheartedly insane for three episodes and every time he raised his voice I'd literally flinch in front of my laptop. But in that scene in the desert when he showed calm and controlled care for his disabled relative, Tuco made the leap from batshit crazy drug lord baddie to well, somebody with at least one core value I could relate to. Then in the junkyard scene where Tuco jumps out of his car panicking and imploring for Walter and Jesse's help, we witness another never-before-seen facet of his personality: fear. Since when did Tuco fear anything? It's a testament to the scriptwriters and the actors that they could even make someone out like Tuco to be a sympathetic, believable, and personality-rich bad guy.

The third aspect of Breaking Bad that I think makes it so successful is the lush backstory that is constantly unfolding with every episode. A lot of times I suspect television writers have to sacrifice thoughtful story lines for favor of cranking out short-term (i.e. episode-long) scripts that keep the ratings up and the show on the air. But Breaking Bad doesn't fall prey to that too-oft short-sightedness. It is clear that Vince Gilligan and the rest of the brains behind the show maintain a strong grasp of the story's direction. Their job is now to tell it in the most captivating way possible. As a viewer, the roller coaster ride is immensely more enjoyable when you know that engineers aren't hurriedly building its foundation just beyond the visibility of your next swerve.

Before I end this post with my inevitable plug for Breaking Bad, I want to concede that it is not a perfect show. There is the occasional plot hole. Sometimes the pacing is too slow for my liking. And Walter basically has only one expression - a frowny face with an open mouth weighed down by his drooping mustache, like D}-: 

Said expression.

But flaws aside it is really is stellar, quality television. I wholeheartedly recommend it to you if you are looking to be wowed by some quality storytelling, acting, and good old white knuckle drama.

New Year, Same Me

Some resolutions for 2013:

1.) Stop losing all my shit all the time.

2.) Run a half marathon. 

3.) Re-discover my love for reading. 

Just three resolutions, really. There are many others that I'd like to achieve but these three are the top most for now and I think they are sufficiently challenging. I'm optimistic about #2 - if I sign up for a half with friends and pay the money for it then I likely will not back out. #3 should be fairly easy if I get on a traveling project and designate plane time for reading (just like the good old times). 

It's #1 that I'm suspicious of. I have never been good at keeping track of my things and as a result I estimate I spend roughly half of my waking existence trying to locate my phone, wallet, and/or keys. It's even trickier in the wintertime when suddenly the list of items that should be on or near me at all times doubles to include scarves, hats, and the worst - gloves. Ugh, gloves. I feel like all of my gloves just want to be lost. Kind of like how the One Ring wants to be found.

Gloves notwithstanding, I'm optimistic about the new year and for all the adventures ahead!