First Person
30 June, 2009.
Have decided to keep track of my first year of Texas living. Found that the most appropriate title for this adventure has already been taken. Resolve to appreciate the pun and not co-opt the work of a colleague. Moving forward with appropriate synonymage.
Arrived Austin 29 December, ‘08. Stepped from behind the wheel of my Saturn and removed my hoody. Decided that Texas weather is fucking brilliant. Closed door and set about setting up house. Established myself with my better half in a detached duplex located to the north and east of downtown, in a neighborhood of trees and at least one Prius. Reminded that backyard is larger than mother’s Brooklyn apartment.
Spent the next month waking up to hot coffee and backyard setting (noted differences between sitting and setting). Discovered that a January garden doesn’t fail so completely in Texas as it does in New England. Wonder about the possible metaphors that could be associated with this revelation.
Secured part-time employment February ‘09. Working for a software firm, running the PR department. Realize that one can live in Texas on roughly half of what they were making back east. Eden allegories start running amok: Resolve to buy Stetson, fancy cowboy boots. Maybe a house.
March ‘09. A/C goes on. Notice that I sweat even at 70 degrees. Still convinced that summer will be a breeze.
Experience first South by Southwest. Amazed at lack of cynicism re: invading hordes of neon-wearing douchebags. Walk the streets to admire humanity. Feel very social. Have great time. Still completely floored at the hospitality of Texas weather. Enjoy many varieties of sausage. Laugh at the idea of wearing short pants.
Find myself nicely settled by April ‘09. Start to feel possessive about new locale. Decide that not even 100 degree heat could make me hate on Austin. Resolve to try to turn off A/C. Fail. Enjoy better half’s birthday with moon bounce and pinata. Plant summer garden. Learn that April is summer in Texas.
May ‘09: Make way to Snow’s BBQ in Lexington. Resolve to not believe Calvin Trillin about anything ever again. Also resolve to figure out a way to work Snow’s brisket into every meal. Feeling like a true Texan. Make puke-y noises at Yankee cuisine. Wonder how puritans made it through winter without brisket. Wonder how they can call themselves puritans without the presence of BBQ. Resolve to not travel above Mason-Dixon line again. Make a pair of cut-offs.
Jun ‘09: Buy house. Floored at Texas prices. Floored at agent’s ability. Floored at own inability to decide on paint colors. Floored at the cost of flooring.
Floored at first site of a all-100-degree seven day forecast. Begin to wonder about this summer thing.
Develop biking habit. Lose first battle with curb. Work to be able to drink and ride at the same time. Fail. Repeatedly. Head north to Pflugerville pfor some pfun. Ride 24-mile circuit. Enjoy some serious pastoral pornography. Realize that there are zebras in Texas. Run across free-range pig grazing underneath an Oak tree. Notice that it isn’t sweating. Notice the contrast between myself and the pig. Wonder about some sort of cosmic meaning. Fall off bike trying to drink water.
Comments
5 Comments
i think it’s time to let go of New England, duder. get over it already!
xo
salt water, sea food and a few friends. that’s about all i miss in boston. i got cowboy boots too!
In my career of literature and indecency I’ve never heard such an apt description as pastoral pornography. Probably bc I’ve never lived in Austin…
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hello,
thanks for the great quality of your blog, every time i come here, i’m amazed.
black hattitude.
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