Complain all you want about the traffic, the rising cost of living, the rash of condos, the ACL Fest lineup, Joe Rogan, and how this once-sleepy college town has gone to hell in a Yeti cooler. But the luckiest residents of Austin are the ones who just moved here.
Huh? “You must also love those assholes who try to squeeze into a full elevator.”
Recent arrivals take a lot of organic crapola. But imagine how cool it is to live in an Austin where everything’s new. You know how you hear somebody talking about how they just started watching The Wire and you get a little jealous because that’s something you’ll never get to do again for the first time? It’s like that.
I moved to Austin 37 years ago and it’s hard for me to get excited about, say, going to the honky tonk preservation scene at the Broken Spoke. But the last time I went there, pre-pandemic, it was a fun place full of glowing newbies. Ain’t got nothing like this in Brooklyn, yeehaw!
Yes, it used to be so much better here, but those days are gone. Living in Austin is like sex in that what happened in the past has only sentimental value, which when it comes to sex is no value. Who would you rather be, the old guy hunched over his cereal who used to do Victoria Principal or the insufferable hipster in the trucker hat who goes home to that hot barista, the one with only one tattoo?
One advantage that newcomers have is that they don’t know what Austin used to look like or how the people used to act. They can drive down South First without pining for Virginia’s Cafe, or make a turn at 2nd and Guadalupe without recalling, with some sadness, a favorite Neville Brothers concert. There’s no haunt to the jaunt.
The only Austin any of us know is the one we got. And I think now we have to get something straight. If you were born and raised in Austin and still live here, you’re rare, but not special. You and your parents thought Cactus Pryor was famous, so please stop bragging in Facebook comments. You’re annoying the 99% of us who moved here because where we lived before wasn’t so hot.
Some moved here for jobs. They’re called Round Rock residents. But most of us moved here because we loved the party, you know, the vibe. It started as a room full of conversations on Goodwill couches and someone pulled out a guitar and everyone sang “Blister In the Sun.” But the bash now rages with a D.J. and drink tickets. Who invited all these bubblebutts?
But they have every right to be at the party as you do. Legally, at least. You just got there early. And you’re free to leave. With the million dollars your eternal fixer-upper sells for.
What I did recently, and recommend to all, is look at Austin through new eyes. Pretend you’d just driven a U-Haul through Texarkana last week. See all the happy, colorful people hanging out on South First? That’s something you’d never see when Austin was cool.
But you’ll also see signs for $10 parking on street corners where you used to be able to buy a stereo for $10. Things change because paradise can never keep it’s trap shut.
Yellow lights on South Lamar, capital punishment, “Don’t Move Here” t-shirts: these are things that don’t deter. An average of 180 people a day are relocating to Austin. Just rarin’ to hit “play” on season one.
cover photo by Jay Janner AAS