The Silent "I"

Austin for Kids: 3 Fun Things to Do

Now that I'm a parent, my view of what constitutes "fun" has changed dramatically.  When we went to Austin this past weekend, it was apparent to me that the things I used to do for entertainment there were not going to cut the mustard with my 7 year old.  So much for hanging out at the Continental Club.  Instead, we found three great, kid-friendly places that range in price from "free" to "spend whatever is in your wallet and then some." 

Here are our picks for three fun things to do with kids in the Austin area:

1.  Cabela's (Buda,free):  Frank called Cabela's "the Red State REI".  It's that and then some.  Cabela's is a department store for outdoorsmen, with things ranging from RVs, deer blinds, rifles and camping equipment to fishing tackle, and every imaginable type of camo gear.  It's the mega mall for folks who like to go out and catch their own food. 

So, why is this good for kids?  It also features a huge walk-through aquarium of fish found in local waters, including one humongous blue catfish that must be about 100 years old.  It also has an amazing African taxidermy room that has stuffed wildlife from crocodiles to elephants to lions.  A second room has wildlife from all over Texas, along with an animatronic fisherman to explain it all to you.  The store has as much space devoted to exhibits as retail sales.   Cabela's also has popular birthday party packages for kids that book up 9 months in advance. 

Personally, I got a kick out of the huge "bulk ammo" section, thinking about how my California liberal friends would be having fits of apoplexy just thinking about it.  I decided "When in Buda, do as the Buda-ists" and allowed Alex to practice in the laser shooting gallery, and even tried it myself.  With that fake shotgun on my shoulder, I felt like Annie Oakley and decided that this shooting thing is actually is fun.  Good thing I got out of there before I started campaigning for Ron Paul for President.

Wordless Wednesday -- Austin Sky at Dusk

Austin, Texas, September 8, 2007

For more Wordless Wednesday photos, click here.

Home Again, Home Again: Austin

I've mentioned before that we used to live in Austin.  Austin is, in some ways, the first place I ever felt was my home.  I never felt that growing up in Ohio, or in my school-and post-grad stints in New York and Chicago.  I always had the sense that I was not long for those places, that there was somewhere else I was supposed to be, somewhere just over the horizon that was where I would find that indefinable something called home.  That place, for me, was Austin.

I left Austin for love, and always thought that eventually Frank and I would make our way back.  There was a time early in our marriage that Frank lived in fear that I would pack up and head back to Austin because I was so unhappy living in California.  California, with it's insanely high real estate prices and perfect weather.  California, with it's judgemental, unfriendly people (or so I thought in the beginning) and ridiculous competitiveness starting with pre-school and ending with cemetary plots.  I was not a California girl, by any stretch of the imagination. 

I missed the vast expanse of the Texas sky, the cold beer on hot nights in smoky bars hearing live music, and the warmth and familiarity of my brothers and their crazy friends, and even the loony 911 operators.  I missed Tex-Mex food and conjunto music, impromptu barbecues, and the white-blue sky on hot days that stretched as far as the eye could see.  I moved there during the height of the "Slacker" era, when rents were cheap and everything was a little grungy, a little worn and comfortable.  For a long time, I pined to go back home.

Then, Alex was born, and the world changed for me.  I began to enjoy the comfort of temperate weather and friends who were not part of the Silicon Rat Race.  I met other moms and dads who shared the same hopes and fears that I had, who opted not to be part of competi-mommy crowd.  I got involved in the community and found that people were not so much unfriendly as preoccupied much of the time. I began to appreciate the life we had built for ourselves.  I started to see California as a place that allowed us to live our dream and travel the world, child in tow, and have a comfortable place to return to and call home.

Everytime we visit Austin, I still have a pang of regret that hits me right in the heart.  I see my brother's children, so much more grown up than the last time. I feel an aching sadness that I'm not there in the in-between times, to take them to movies and celebrate their birthdays, and fill the role of imo (aunt).  I see my other brother and his wife, and miss the opportunities to just sit and talk with them over coffee or breakfast migas.  The visits are all too infrequent, and all too short.

I started to write an Austin-travelogue, but instead of talking about the great dinner we had at Chez Zee, or the super-swanky Renaissance Hotel where we stayed, I find myself in a fit of nostalgia.  I don't really want to move back; we have too much invested in California right now.  There is a small part of me, though, that is perpetually homesick for Austin.

Austin has changed dramatically since we lived there in the 1990's.  Roads that used to lead nowhere are now super-highways that fly over new businesses and developments that weren't there before.  Technology companies that were once the mainstay of the Austin economy have moved abroad or changed names or are no longer recognizable to us.  In some ways, it's like seeing an old friend after ten years time, and noticing that they're a little grayer and a little bigger, but over all, the essential spark of familiarity and character is still there.

I've been thinking about a song by Sally Fingerett since I got back, and this lyric:

Home is where the heart is
No matter how the heart lives
Inside your heart where love is
That's where you've got to make yourself
At home.   

So, we're home again.  This time, in California, where my heart lives now. 

My Life, The Sitcom: Austin

Back in the early 1990's, when I was a young, single woman, I lived in Austin, Texas.  One night, I was coming home from being out at a club and I saw someone lying in the road near my house.  I called 911 when I got home, since this was the era before cell phones. This is the conversation I had with the 911 operator, or at least this is how I remember it.

Me:  Hello?  I'd like to report that there's someone lying face down in the road near my house.
911 Operator: Is it a man or a woman?
Me:  I think it's a man.
911:  Is he dead?
Me:  I don't know.  He wasn't moving when I drove by.
911:  Was he bleeding?
Me:  Not that I could tell, but it was dark.
911: So why didn't you get out and help him?
Me: What?  Er...It's 3 am, and I'm by myself, so I didn't know if it would be safe to do that.
911: So there's a guy lying in the road near your house and you didn't think it would be safe to you know, maybe check and see if he was dead?
Me: No, I thought I'd leave it to the professionals to check and see if he was dead.  Are you going to send someone or not?  I just called to see if you could send a police car over to check on this person before someone runs over him.
911:  Oh, so you ran over him?  Is that why he's lying in the road? (laughs)
Me: ...
911:  Ma'am, are you still there?
Me: Yes.  I mean, no!  I most certainly did not run him over.
911:  No need to get all indignant on me ma'am.  I'm just kidding.  I need to know if I should send an ambulance, too.  If you ran over him, I'd need to dispatch an ambulance.
Me:  No, I did not run over him.  Look, if he stays out there while you try to figure out who to send over, he might get run over and if he's not dead now, then he will be. 
911:  You have a point. So what's the address of where this maybe dead/maybe not dead person is lying in the road?
Me: 5th and X St.
911:  Is he on the left or the right side of the street.
Me:  On the left.
911:  Your left or my left?
Me:  He's the only guy lying in the street.  You can't miss him.
911: I'll send over a cruiser to check it out. Have a nice night, ma'am.