Ooh, that smell ...
By Erin Steele
March 15, 2007
This week in Austin has been a homecoming of sorts for me. I spent four years in the so-called Music Capital of the World (close your ears, New York. You too, Los Angeles) as an undergrad at the University of Texas, where I struggled with the fact that I didn’t wear hipster glasses like the rest of the English majors and couldn’t really convince myself that tofu was an OK thing to eat. It was a trying time.
But by the end of my studies here, I fell in love with the city; it was like a boyfriend who was way too smart and cool and good-looking for me, but I didn’t really have the heart to question it.
Now, I see things a little differently. The beer goggles have lifted, and while I still love my metropolitan boyfriend, I realize that maybe he should shave and get a job and shower occasionally, if only to wash off the odor of pretension that constantly clings to him. It’s cool to be laid back, less cool to be in a perpetual slacker coma. Grow up, guy.
What used to seem cute about Austin is now cloying ... when did it become OK to pay so much money to look so poor? The only thing that distinguishes the festivalgoers from the panhandlers is the SXSW badge draped around their necks. The fact that this parade of hobo chicness takes place against the backdrop of high-end retail stores -- each one replacing the small, eclectic shops that once dotted downtown -- is especially disconcerting. Has Austin gone from keeping it real to keeping it real estate?
Certainly, that can be said of campus, where all of the once-enchanting stores have been chased away by the behemoth known as University Co-op. When I first arrived in the Texas capital, the Co-op faced a healthy amount of competition from Texas Textbooks, Barnes & Noble and other bookstores in and around campus. Those stores have now been replaced by the Co-op Annex, Co-op women’s store, Co-op dollar store, Co-op whatever else it can slap its name on. The flavor is gone; all that’s left is a bland aftertaste, reminiscent of tofu. Too bad.
Is this to say that I hate Austin and what it has become? Absolutely not. The city still offers a vibrant arts scene, a refuge for film and music buffs, that rivals any city in Texas and perhaps the nation. It’s still a haven for struggling artists, a mecca for up-and-coming business professionals and a melding of old and young who flock to Austin for all it has to offer, both recreationally and professionally.
But the truth is, over the years my idealism has faded, and in many ways, so has the laid-back charm of the city, which isn’t so much laid-back as dressed down. I guess it’s true that you can’t go home again. But you can go to the Co-op.
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Posted by: Erin's Mom on March 15, 2007 5:12 PM
I've been waiting to be entertained with an account of your interaction with the colorful citizens of Austin who use public transportation. Why don't you hang out at the bus stop for old times sake? It just isn't as much fun since you got a car.