Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Texas Two Step
Marah was tempted but we didn't try it, since the folks at Ginny's Saloon were serious on the dance floor. We were content to watch. On our second night, Texaken took us to Ginny's, which almost seemed out of place in Austin. It struck me as a bar you'd find in Middle of Nowhere, Texas -- minus the possibility of getting shot, since a.) that really happens in some Texas bars apparently, and b.) Ginny's has a No Guns policy.
A country band tore through four sets of music. The lead guitarist was this gigantic man named Redd who destroyed! For three hours, we just sat at our table, drinking 2 dollar Lone Stars and taking in the incredible people watching (my favorite was the guy who tucked his muscle T into his stone washed jeans, for class; Marah liked the 30-something women who danced with each other and clearly wanted men to take them home). It was authentic and awesome.
The trip was a whirlwind. We went back and forth between Ken and my brother's. I won't bore you with the details, but to recap, I did the following: met my niece, drank a lot of local draft beer, ate, sat outside, wore a new suit, got lost on a walk with my parents, went to Waterloo Records, played with Alamo, dodged tooly drunk college kids on 6th Street, visited the original Whole Foods (it sells clothing), ate barbecue outdoors in the country, became a godfather, experienced humidity, attended Episcopalian church, almost went to a taping of Austin City Limits, vomited, watched our homophobic waiter at Friday's spill Marah's martini all over her, discovered that Austin has die-hard hipsters, a la Echo Park and Williamsburg. Also, I realized that no matter how old I get, dealing my brother surprise karate chops will always be awesome. All in all, it was pretty great.
Marah was tempted but we didn't try it, since the folks at Ginny's Saloon were serious on the dance floor. We were content to watch. On our second night, Texaken took us to Ginny's, which almost seemed out of place in Austin. It struck me as a bar you'd find in Middle of Nowhere, Texas -- minus the possibility of getting shot, since a.) that really happens in some Texas bars apparently, and b.) Ginny's has a No Guns policy.
A country band tore through four sets of music. The lead guitarist was this gigantic man named Redd who destroyed! For three hours, we just sat at our table, drinking 2 dollar Lone Stars and taking in the incredible people watching (my favorite was the guy who tucked his muscle T into his stone washed jeans, for class; Marah liked the 30-something women who danced with each other and clearly wanted men to take them home). It was authentic and awesome.
The trip was a whirlwind. We went back and forth between Ken and my brother's. I won't bore you with the details, but to recap, I did the following: met my niece, drank a lot of local draft beer, ate, sat outside, wore a new suit, got lost on a walk with my parents, went to Waterloo Records, played with Alamo, dodged tooly drunk college kids on 6th Street, visited the original Whole Foods (it sells clothing), ate barbecue outdoors in the country, became a godfather, experienced humidity, attended Episcopalian church, almost went to a taping of Austin City Limits, vomited, watched our homophobic waiter at Friday's spill Marah's martini all over her, discovered that Austin has die-hard hipsters, a la Echo Park and Williamsburg. Also, I realized that no matter how old I get, dealing my brother surprise karate chops will always be awesome. All in all, it was pretty great.
