1994: Twenty years in Austin!

Time to start another countdown today but I want to celebrate twenty years in my adopted home! Austin has been good to me and I hope I’m returning the favor, probably not. I fear I left a trail for other people to follow like how fire ants notify their colony.

The journey was spectacular and I managed to turn it into my first real vacation in several years. I had a rental car, all the major junk was shipped ahead through UPS, I just transported things I didn’t want stolen (stereo, music collection mostly) plus I plotted a rather leisurely route with plans to make numerous stops to take pictures. All these pictures were taken with a disposable camera. The negatives had been transferred to a DVD-R over a decade ago. There must’ve been a hair on the scanner due to a “scratch” being in the same spot on every photo.

I can’t believe I succeeded in packing up the car by 10 AM. It was to the gills with boxes containing CDs, comic books and a cardboard standee of Bugs Bunny for Doc. The grandparents must’ve panicked because Mom called shortly before I left. I think everybody thought I was bluffing only to realize I was actually going to leave town. How I remember Mom saying if it didn’t work out, I could come to Raleigh. I replied, I’ll be living in a dumpster in Austin before I would ever move there. I came close to the latter and ate a ton of crow regarding the former.

I said my farewell to Grandma and Grandpa. Told them this was for the best. I really needed to regain the independence I was just starting to develop in Milwaukee until I accepted the GDW offer.

First stop was Springfield, IL. The place I consider my original hometown. It’s where I finished adolescence and became a teenager. The location I thought would become my immediate destiny for high school. How I wish GPS or Google maps existed in 1994. I must’ve wasted an hour hunting down the house we lived in. I knew the street names just not which side was what for Springfield. I lived an hour north of this place for over two years yet never bothered to visit.

myhouse1979-82

It was a darker shade of yellow before we moved away in 1982.

Killed another couple hours at White Oaks Mall to reminisce, think about how it was a personal Mecca to hang out in.

Hauled ass for stop number two, St. Louis. Got caught in rush hour traffic and missed the right exits again to see the Gateway Arch. I toured the museum underneath yet didn’t bother to go to the top due to my fear of heights. I made a couple entries into the portable tape recorder I bought. There were plans to send the audio to Cindy since she had done something similar with London years earlier. I never bothered though. I don’t have a voice for radio.

thearch

Too bad it was overcast and cold when I took this photo.

The next leg to Memphis was entirely in the dark. Thankfully it wasn’t as long as I feared. Back in 1982, Dad kept yelling at me to stay awake so it felt like an eternity. In 1994, I made it to a hotel with a Waffle House nearby by 9:30 PM.

Day two was my first pilgrimage to Graceland. I just took the minimal tour. The “park” didn’t open until 10 AM and it put me behind schedule for making Dallas according to the mental estimates I had. Elvis’ house was more tasteful than I expected. Sure it’s frozen in time from the day he died 17 years earlier but at least it’s not an exaggerated cartoon like the clothes in American Hustle or Dazed n’ Confused.

I couldn’t resist sending postcards from the onsite post office afterwards. Constantly made jokes over it being Groundhog’s Day and how it led to Elvis sightings.

Buried in the backyard like all hillbillies are.

Buried in the backyard like all hillbillies are. Seriously, Vern moved it here after Charlie Chaplain’s corpse was kidnapped.

Onward to Little Rock, see all the memorabilia for Clinton’s victory. I recall watching his victory there on TV. A really nice lady showed me a photo of the Secret Service holding on to the back of Gore’s belt loop to keep him from falling into the crowd. I sent Mom a postcard from First Cat Socks.

Here's where Clinton was declared President #42.

Here’s where Clinton was declared President #42.

I arrived in Texarkana by 5-6 PM, realized there was nothing worth seeing, refueled the car and listening to Maurice LaMarche’s interview on NPR. The WMAG tapes were great at gauging the distances. Each side lasted roughly 45 minutes and made the driving less tedious. Whenever I drew closer to a major city, I tuned in the local radio stations. Alternative Rock was at its pinnacle then. I could make a soundtrack to the drive courtesy of what I heard ad nausem:

  • “Loser” – Beck
  • “Leaving Las Vegas” – Sheryl Crow
  • “Laid” – James

OK, it would be a short record yet these were in every city, every day. Little Rock being the exception, they remained trapped in the Metal/Dinosaur Rock Age.

Dallas was larger than I expected. I found a reasonable hotel in the suburb of Garland. Ate at Waffle House again. Called Doc to let him know I was going to be in Austin tomorrow afternoon.

On the last travel day, I went downtown to check out the Sixth Floor exhibit. See what all the Book Depository fuss was. It’s a museum covering JFK’s career and Oswald’s background. The place doesn’t take a strong stand in any direction for the conspiracy nuts. For my own edification I did check out the street view. One thing you don’t easily see in the Zapruder film is how the road curves and goes downhill. As for the grassy knoll, it’s too close to be plausible. Besides, I got the who-shot-JFK crap out of my system years earlier. Five decades later, his presidency will be remembered better than previous caretaker leaders thanks to TV.

The window where Oswald took his shots.

The window where Oswald took his shots.

The street often seen in the Zapruder film every year.

The street often seen in the Zapruder film every year.

I couldn’t resist calling an ex-coworker who was a huge JFK conspiracy buff, saying I was Colonel X with a scoop. He wasn’t in. I got the former boss. At least I got him to laugh. I wasn’t always a terrible employee!

The home stretch was probably the weirdest. I didn’t know I-35 Southbound was divided into two parts for an hour. The sections from Dallas and Fort Worth merge by then. Texas’ partial outdoor rest stop/bathrooms were annoying. Sure the weather was warmer than up north but cold is cold.

I made the outskirts of Austin (20 years ago) by 3 PM, found K-Nack on the radio, cruised around UT while looking for the dorm I would be working at. It was raining a tad. The temperature was in the fifties so to this Yankee, it was balmy! Doc and his on-again/off-again girlfriend Eiko were in class leaving me to kill time in the office for another hour.

We got the UPS boxes and rental car junk up to the room and headed downtown for steak at Dan McClusky’s on Sixth Street (it’s gone now). Austin has grown immensely with its service industry. My first night out was a rather typical experience…the waiter disappeared after taking our order and never returned. Today it’s unheard of.

I didn't truly unpack for about a week.

I didn’t truly unpack for about a week.

The vacation concluded that evening. By next morning I had to get working. Doc had already lost an assistant and another was leaving for an internship. Pressure was mounting as we had to start assigning the class of 1998 its room in a few weeks.

I had a pretty flexible schedule with days off in the middle of the week. I was still a night owl so I often roamed what the locals call The Drag (a stretch of Guadalupe Street from MLK to the upper 20s) and thought, this is where I belong, I love this place! Those parts of Austin used to be open 24 hours, today, not anymore.

Dark clouds would be coming in a matter weeks between Doc and me along with other crappy events I was hoping to avoid, namely being a peripheral participant in another lawsuit. I’m grateful my first year in Austin leveled out from its roller-coaster bullshit to ease into it’s more successful incarnation I have today.

A few of you have visited me as well: Jose, Cindy, Doc (he moved away in 1996)…that’s about it really. I think some of you need to consider seeing why I gave up the Midwest other than the horrible Winters.

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