Last month was crazy, exciting, overwhelming, and exhausting. I am finally feeling like myself again. My brain is still a bit mushy, but I’ve got a little bit to share before I retreat back.
I hung out with a crap-ton of non-Austinites (non-Texans) last month. I can’t tell you how many times I heard “I didn’t expect Texans to be so nice!” What is normal to me was remarkable to Californians, New Yorkers and even Canadians. What is not clear is what they expected us to be: barbarians or root’n toot’n cowboys? Like the oil-rich yokel stereotypes in Giant?
One Californian was describing some kid she knew who had moved from Texas, who she described as “so Texan.” He apparently spoke really slowly, which was the Texan part. If I need start rapping some Kris Kross lyrics here to dispel this stereotype I will, because Texans are wiggity wiggity wack, yo.
Another Californian said, “Austin is like San Francisco’s younger, hotter sister.” Amen. San Francisco is old and cold, dude.
Happy post-Rapture, y’all.