Austin: Release 2.0 - by Mical

I’ve never written a blog before. That’s a lie. I scribble some on my MySpace page whenever I get the proverbial “wild hair” up my proverbial “ass.” But now I think that I’ve got a whole bunch of wild hairs up my ass and it’s time I share them with the world.

Example of wild hair, but mine are up my ass.

A little about me, I’m a lot like a Manwich, simple but complex. More than a meal, but not worthy of Grey Poupon. You can use a fork and a knife, or just dive on in. I don’t care. In future columns, I’ll be sharing my take on the world, my thoughts on getting married, and my celebration of the general idiocy that parades in front of me on an almost daily basis. But since the four of you who read this page demand more biographical information on your favorite LCP member, I suppose I should let you know about how my relationship with our fair city all started.

I came to know Austin as a kid in the 80s shortly after my dad decided that heading north on 35 from the Rio Grande Valley to the Capital city was his destiny. I traveled up to visit in the summers after my parents divorced. He wasn’t the best dad, in fact he was a real prick, but he showed me Austin in all of it’s Slacker/Bubba laden glory. Back then we had festivals that were a bit low-fi in comparison to ACL Fest. Splat the Cat was a festival that celebrated the painting of a dead cat on one of the major roads in Austin. Aquafest was a big ol Austin style hoot nanny with boats, Frisbee catching dogs, and live music. I remember heading back to the Edinburg thinking “Why can’t we have festivals about crappy city services or a festival on a lake with no real point to it?” I was smitten. Shit yeah!

Oooh. Data.
Those days are gone now, and after having spent the last 15 years in this city as an adult, I’ve noticed that the people have changed. The locals that have grown up here are in hiding because a buttload of uncool people, much like myself, have invaded their stomping grounds. I’ve personally kept a tally of all the native Austinites I’ve met in person since 1992. My count is up to 17. Actually, I met a girl the other day who made 18.

Bubba is lost. I feel you, my brother.

Back in the day I would hang with the local young hip folk of the city at NorthCross Mall believe it or not. We were all playing video games at the Gold Mine, watching movies, ice skating, and playing basketball at the Oshman SuperPlex thingy. Today, they are building a Wal Mart there. It also doubles as the saddest mall in the world. Every city has one of these, but not one that I know of has fallen from grace so violently as has NorthCross.

El Centro Mall in Pharr TX was the mall that boasted “Come Walk a Mile, at El Centro Mall” after a fancier shopping center called La Plaza Mall opened just down the street in McAllen. They didn’t even want you to shop at El Centro. At this point, they just wanted you to come and get in some cardio to keep the employees from hanging themselves, or gorging themselves on Orange Julius and pretzels.

NorthCross in 10 years. Gacho!
Had NorthCross just employed some sort of fitness outreach program, perhaps things would be different? Today, what’s left of it serves as the home to 2-3 decent businesses and a great place to see a wicked match of Magic: The Gathering or Pokemon.

That’s it.

Hooray for progress? I guess. But take a long look at the “warehouse district.” Gone are the stoner slackers, alt-punk rockers, and salt of the earth types. In their place are a bunch of merlot sipping out of towners that look like Nordstroms ralphed on them. In a lot of ways it looks like Dallas took a dump in downtown Austin. Don’t even get me started on The Domain.

The Domain: Austin Release 2.0
My lordy. The Domain. If there was ever a place to practice your hand grenade tossing skills. That would be it. Did you know that you can live there? Seriously. You can live in an open air mall. Buying a condo above the Gap just west of JC Penny’s inside Barton Creek Mall isn’t too far off.

The sad thing is that such a place today would sell in this city for about 350k.

I miss the bubbas. I miss the frantic pursuit of skipper pins for Aquafest. I miss the time when we didn’t take ourselves so damn seriously. Why should we? Nobody else does.

“Keeping it Weird” never felt so put on. Let’s hope “Keepin It Typical” doesn’t end up on a tie dye shirt anytime soon.

Ooops. Too late.