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*The views expressed in Truesday are those of the author and do not represent Austinist as a whole. Thank heavens.* -The Editors
I feel it my duty to warn you that this post is full of pointless self-examination and thinly-veiled yet obviously worthless platitudes. But it will be different from my normal posts in that I won’t make any feeble attempts at anything remotely smartish.
I’m simply feeling a tad nostalgic, that’s all.
It has just recently occurred to me that it’s been almost a year since I started writing with the Austinist crew. It’s been a fascinating year, too. Trail-crying, falling down, pants-wetting, wine-swilling, baby-pool splashing, Electric Boogalooing fascination. All documented here on the interwebs. For my family to be upset about, if not for strangers to read and immediately feel better about their own comparatively superior life decisions.
Sure. Why not?
Before posting on Austinist about what an idiot I tend to be, I used to read the site, picking up on whatever they thought was going down around town, getting overloaded on Ghostland Observatory references (they are damn good, so I understood/stand all the hoop-la), and enjoying the sprawling nature of what it was I supposed Austinist was trying to do.
Trying to do?
What exactly they were trying to do back then was a mystery. The structure was ALL OVER the place. They covered whatever. Anything, really. Anything that may have been of importance to Austin, but not specifically so. It didn’t suffer from acute regional myopia. It was just like the Austin I love: happily scattered and probably confused, but unapologetic about whatever it does. It was that sort of attitude that drew me in. And it’s that same attitude that keeps me interested in whatever Austinist is today. The boundless curiosity of the writers coupled with the forever-present interplay between unfaltering respect for the historical elements of Austin and the broader understanding of cultural evolution that allows for some “man, fuck this shit” irreverence.
It has purpose, somewhere. But that purpose can’t be attributed directly to any one thing. Not even the parent site, gothamist, which true to form, is more in line with what New York City is all about. Luckily, New York (for all its wonders and benefits) is not Austin.
Here in Austin? On Austinist? Sometimes we don’t wear shirts or shoes, but still expect some goddamn service.
I just wanted to wax and polish some faint memories. And to remember the stupid story (with erroneous furniture designer/brilliant author reference! Because that’s so awesome I want to cry!) which brought me and my warped sense of propriety here in the first place.
I still have the beanbag chair, by the way. It’s stupid huge.
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I came to your blog surching for Castle as I love them and was visiting one in Sweden the other day.
Thanks for sharing your experiences!