Not to knock Austin at all. Austin is one kick ass town. But sometimes I just feel like I'm on a movie set every day. Everything is so clean, so disinfected. Even the "bad part of town" is a timid, Hollywood version of the parts of New Orleans you dare not approach without the proper protection. Life is really good here, which bothers me, which essentially proves to me that I am impossible.
I miss the daily struggle of simply living in New Orleans. The shitty streets, the loud, uncouthed population, the small-town feel within a big city, Mardi Gras, Halloween, taking the street car to work, walking up and down Decatur St., Frenchman, drinking outside (!!!!!!!), the neighborhood eateries like Cafe Nino and Lebanon, of course Rue de la Course, The Saint, Nick's, the fly, Magazine St., City Park, the food (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and most of all, my dear friends, who I wish more than anything would just fucking move here. But I know why they don't, I don't blame them, and I'm pretty envious of them.
That's not to say I don't have resident in my memory how much I despised living there shortly before Katrina. A few of my friendships were on the rocks, and my comedy career was going pretty much nowhere. We had just landed a weekly comedy show on a Monday Night at a shitty pool hall, but it only made me more frustrated that after four years of doing comedy, I was still begging people to go to shows just to have the minimum fifteen people there.
It was a great concept too. It was called Vigilante, which was a comedy show where it was the same four stand-up comics each week, with one different guest comic, and every week the stip was to do absolutely different material from the previous week, taking suggestions for topics of next week's shows from the crowd. The drink special was $1.50 domestic bottles, and the show was fucking free.
We got to do two shows, and then Katrina hit. On the day of our third show. At the time, this was what I was most upset about. I had just invested a lot of time into this show, and I felt like the hurricane was just going to ruin my week by canceling my show. It did a little more than that.
By the time Katrina hit, I was already in Baton Rouge. Safe. For the time being. Safe and homeless. I was staying with Holly and her brother at his tiny two bedroom efficiency. Holly's brother plays video games while watching TV, and so I got cabin fever pretty fast, especially when her entire family showed up. To live.
The hurricane hit conveniently just before my first trip to Palm Springs. I spent a week there, and on that trip found out about what FEMA was doing for everyone, and I came back to Baton Rouge having decided to follow my girlfriend and just pick up and move to Austin. There wasn't any arm twisting involved, either, because the thought of living in that sardine can of an apartment in Baton Rouge any longer gave me the craps. I didn't look up anything but the map to Austin and where the open mics were. The Coldtowne Heroes had already moved here, and kindly showed me around a bit, and pointing me towards some of the comedy shows in town.
It all happened at rapid pace. I got an apartment and a job within two days of moving here. I had a ton of money and a working car, and a brand new town where I don't know anyone. I didn't even know Austin was the capital of Texas. I mean, if you had asked me point blank what the capital of Texas was, I probably could've answered correctly, but Austin didn't necessarily ring any capital city bells, so I was surprised to see a giant capital building near my first destination here, which was Little City on Congress, where I was to meet Holly, who had moved to Austin just a week before. That was one of the happiest days of my life.
Whoever I was in New Orleans was now dead.
I got out of my car and experienced the most wonderful 7pm breeze, a breeze that almost knocked me to the cement. I was instantly introduced to the grackels and their trademark laser noises. I got my first impression of the rampant homeless population, just outside of Little City actually. Most of them at least were carrying an instrument. I walked into the cafe, and Joanna Newsom was playing on the radio. That floored me. New Orleans does not have any places you could hear modern indie music, except maybe Zotz, and that would be rare. You'd have a better chance of hearing arab disco and/or the shrieking of obscure British waifs. I also miss Zotz, by the way.
Anyway, I felt completely empowered by the efficiency and world-classness of Austin. A Real City was my summation after a week. A city where you can function, get things done, improve your life, get on your feet, and then, move on. The architechture was very modern to me. The roads were smooth. The lights worked well. People dressed very similiarly to each other. A ton of road signs were missing, which made getting to know the city rather difficult. The weather was pretty fantastic (I love the heat). I had no idea I would still be here in 2008, but I am, and I feel I'm a better person for it.
I lived here rent free and bill free for a year. In that time, I saved no money, but I acquired items I knew I'd never have the money for again. I bought a big TV (an impulse buy I kindof regret, but whatever), a computer, a DV Cam, new cabling for my turntable, records, new clothes, lamps, lamps, lamps and shoes.
I lost my job, my roommate, my girlfriend and also my brother (to another city) just weeks before FEMA cut me loose, and so I had very little money or will to live going into Real World Land. It wasn't for another two months that I'd have a steady job, albeit one I completely hated. This was the "proofreader" job, where I did about as much proofreading as a professional boxer. This was a job for losers, or for people who can handle being the manager of losers. I was a loser there for about 6 or 7 months, and then I told the manager that being a loser wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and so I tendered my resignation. This is also when I really started to like drinking.
Meanwhile, I was deeply entrenched in relationship drama with...just about everyone. But especially in the lady department. I don't wish my December 2006 on anyone. Not even on my worst enemy. Well, maybe on this guy.
2007 started off like a slug. This was a definite rebuilding, or as I like to call it, interim year. Rainy year. Unsettling. Three different roommates, three different jobs, and indifference to just about everything and everyone around me. I felt my act getting stale, and I don't just mean my comedy. I was surrounded by negativity all of the time every day. I remember everyone disliked everyone else.
The second half of 2007 was a big turnaround from that, however. It showed me that 2008 might not be so bad, which it most certainly has not been. Being a finalist in the contest and landing a headlining spot at the Velveeta Room were my only two goals, and I may have even exceeded those already. Let's hope, anyway. Accomplishing those two things has given me a new lease on life, albeit a short lease on a pretty shaky life. Life, I feel, is all about renewing your lease as often as possible.
Posts
you need austin for comedy. it's a million times better there. you know this. we miss you, of course, but never forget that fact. there's a cop car outside my house.
ReplyDeletejack
This was a joy to read. Glad you like Austin. Stop blaming it for your social problems; romanticizing home is fine, but people are people everywhere. I live by renewal. Keep shedding your skin...or casing on new layers. Either way.
ReplyDeleteHey man,
ReplyDeleteI came accross this while looking up the start time for open mic for the 4th consecutive week. Ihaven;t gotten on stage yet, still trying to do my homework. I love this post though. very inspiring. I guess I'll see you tonight. I'll be drinking water in the back with a dildo hanging out of my ass.