From ATown to Chi-town, Brothers Lou and Kumali Keep it Real
Lou and Kumali Rutigliano are expanding their territory this week, setting their compasses NE, driving through the nation’s belly and feeding their own, at places that advertise “ALL YOU CAN EAT, “ and “$2 BEER.”
AUSTIN: SXSW Day 1.5
So there were some hits and misses yesterday as far as free stuff goes… the Ice Cream Man (notice the ice cream girl in the picture below with her diabolical eyes) was being a big pusher and tried to get even diabetic people to eat some free frozen treats, so look for him at his random locations. But don’t get the blue popsicle unless you thought that guy with the green colored lips looked cool.
Red Eyed Fly, you got some splainin to do. Does your"free drink” stash consist of an already drank six pack ? (bait and switch tactics were popular yesterday, just take the free earplugs and leave).
Bourbon Rocks is an official showcase but if you can talk your way in their food is yumm-bo.
The overall best deal to me was the Levi’s/Fader party which only required an RSVP-- the list is closed now unfortunately but thanks, yes, we had a good time there. The Kills posed for us below. If you are on the list, it’s free drinks, easy access to front stage. And Lou Reed is rumored to be there today.
Lovejoy’s service and atmosphere was quite nice in the AM. Coffee’s a buck fifty.
Don’t even try to go to the “Canadian BBQ Blast” without a badge, even if you rsvp’d, they won’t let you in (but we did find out that you can befriend a badge holder and they’ll let you tag along with them to get in, for a small favor)
Also, if you hear of anything we all might like to know, comment!
Secondhand Fun
When my pockets are empty and my lungs are feeling brave, I love going to B-12 Bingo at 290 and Victory Lane. For $5 you get 12 cards for 5 different games. If you’ve never been before you get a free dauber, the tool of the trade. This place also has a cafe and spending more than $5 there will score you a free dauber too. There is a tiny non-smoking section in the back, but you will probably get emphysema before you reach it.
These bingo players are hardcore too, it’s not just for grannies any more. Some people try to pay bills and rent with this money. They bring cash, bags specially made for daubers, seat cushions and their game face. These people aren’t afraid to shoosh and give the evil eye when it’s crunch time, but they’re pretty friendly during breaks.
There’s always a raffle going on during sessions for gift certificates to the bingo hall, the cafe, even restaurants like Chili’s. The announcers do this too and they’re usually fun people, making jokes and keeping things exciting. There’s a pretty small chance of actually winning but prizes range from $300 to $700 in cash.
I can’t forget to mention the greatest thing about this place, which I only figured out a few days ago. It’s BYOB, so if you have no shame in playing bingo alone with a six-pack, and hopefully a taxi later, that’s totally cool. They like you to be discrete about your bingo boozin’ so make it some bingo coozie boozin’.
Basketball at Gregory
I’m a pretty regular visitor of Gregory gym, mostly for the pick-up basketball games. A group of my friends and I go pretty much every Friday afternoon and it usually takes awhile to get a court. Because of the start of intramural basketball season, IM games go on every night except for Fridays and Saturdays. The skill level of players range from beginners to former high school players that probably could’ve played for a smaller college. One common pattern I’ve noticed is that the two sides of the gym are split by skill level. The side that hosts the UT volleyball games tend to have the less skilled players, which is where I play most of the time. Another thing about basketball players at Gregory is don’t let their expensive shoes and sweatbands fool you. Some of the worst players are the ones that look the role of a “baller” but play like a “scrub”.
I was in on two games this particular Friday afternoon. The first game I played alongside two of my friends and two other guys we picked up. We lacked a big man but still managed to be competitive. I was actually matched up against a guy that probably had 50 pounds and half of a foot on me. But I managed to come out not too nicked up.
The second game was a completely different story. My two friends were picked up for another game so from the beginning it really looked like I was going to have to carry the team. And believe me, you’re in trouble if I’m the best player. But the basketball gods were very giving this afternoon, and we somehow managed to win. The reaction of our opponents was priceless as they just couldn’t believe how they lost to us. They left afterwards and probably had trouble sleeping that night…
Looks sure can be deceiving and basketball at Gregory is the perfect example.
Nudists in the sun
What about Hippie Hollow? I haven’t been recently, but this is one hard-to-forget nudist attraction. Hippie Hollow is a part of Lake Travis, located off FM 2222 and RR 620, where people of all sorts come to set themselves free and swim in the nude. It’s $8 for a day-permit, but if this is something you are really into, you can go ahead and get a $75 annual permit.
From what I remember, the people here act sort of cultish but not creepy in any sexual way. Make sure you don’t come expecting to see only a few breasts because almost everyone dresses without clothes. Picture the sun glazing over the water and green trees growing on limestone cliffs. Dispersed along the rock formations, nudists bask in the sun with hats, drinks, books, and floaties for the water.
Also, expect to look like such a perve if you come clothed just to look at everyone else.
Hippie Hollow’s Web site refers to itself as a “clothing optional Nudist Park.”
V-day morals
On Valentine’s day, while I was last second gift shopping in the mall, I decided to observe the mad rush in Hallmark. Over the noise of men fighting over stuffed animals, cheap chocolates and romantic cards, I overheard a conversation between two high school girls, which to me seemed to sum up the holiday.
While glancing through the card aisle:
Teenage girl #1: Hallmark should rename this holiday to ‘Single Awareness day.’ I’ve never felt more self-concious than on today.
Teenage girl #2: I guess I got lucky this year then. Found a boy just in time (Laughs)
#1: Whats your plan for tonight?
#2: Dinner and a ‘surprise’ (makes quotation marks with fingers and smirks)
(at this point, i circle the card aisle for the second time, not actually intending to eavesdrop. Sadly, I am forced to as these girls are unfortunately loud.)
#1: really, so you finally figured out what he got you?
#2: well, I was at standing at the cash register at Toy Joy yesterday buying him a stuffed bear, when the phone rang at the front. The lady picked up and a guy on the other side was asking her for if they had any stuffed unicorns.
#1: (laughs..actually more like giggles) are yous erious? what’s the coincidence of that happening?
#2: I know...so i’m expecting a new unicorn to my collection tonight
...at this point i realized i wasted my obervational journalistic skills on a useless conversation (more or less), so i knew i would have to use some skills to strtch this convo into something signifcant with a moral.
something like, valentine’s day sucks when you’re single and rocks when you aren’t
am i more or less right?
Not everybody’s life sucks
It’s a pretty well-known fact that adults in either the food service industry or working as cashiers hate their jobs. But I’ve managed to locate an individual in just such a situation who enjoys the hell out of his job and is actually using the money to make himself happier.
He wasn’t easy to find, though.
There’s a 24-hour Valero gas station just up the block from my Riverside apartment and, during a recent early-morning study fuel run (Mountain Dew and chips) a few days ago, I noticed a nice Harley sitting outside with a middle-aged guy in a store uniform polishing it.
Somewhat surprisingly, I was the only person at the station. He was the only cashier in the store, so when he saw me park and begin walking toward the entrance he hopped up and went behind the counter. After I got my supplies I went to pay for them with my debit card.
This is where it gets interesting. He took the plastic, threw it up in the air, spinning it counterclockwise. He then caught it with the other hand and, almost like a slight-of-hand magic trick, swiped it through the card reader in one fluent motion. This caught my attention, I smiled, and having broken the morning ice he asked me what I was doing up so late.
“Studying,” I said.
“Wish I’d stayed in school,” he replied.
Not wanting to bring up any bad memories, I didn’t ask why he dropped out. But he continued the conversation.
“Yeah, I’ve had some rough times. But now I have this job, man.”
“You like it, huh?”
“Oh yeah. I’m even making enough money to get me that bike out there. That thing’s my baby.”
At this point the transaction was complete, and I left with a smile and a “see you later,” as I’m sure I will. I feel kind of bad because I didn’t ask his name. But it was kind of cool that he actually liked doing a job at such a shitty hour that is usually reserved for teenagers. Makes me think there’s a possibility that, no matter what job I end up doing, I can enjoy it if I want to.
Sagra
So Saturday night I had to pick a place to go eat with five people. Not wanting to foul up anyone’s Saturday night plans by having a 45 minute to an hour long wait, I had to pick a place that took reservations but wasn’t super pricy.
I found Sagra. It is a little house turned Italian restaurant. The food was alright and the price was good, especially for the whole atmosphere that is provided.
Buttttt….(because there always is one) the place was so small that you were practically sitting on the lap of the patrons at the next table over. For a place that seems to be aiming for a romantic ambience, having diners so close to each other throws all chances of ‘amore’ out the window.
So while the food was well-priced and good enough, what really seemed to matter was the quality of the conversation…that is the conversation of the couple next you to.
Forbidden Fruit on Valentine’s eve
I drove around Austin on Valentine’s Day eve to check out the merch at some of the locally-run novelty shops (it was for my blog, I swear). My favorite, by far, was Forbidden Fruit. I went to the North Loop location, but they also have a store on 6th.
Upon entry to FF, the friendly employees are unmistakable. They understand that sex shops aren’t necessarily the most comfortable place for some people, but they’re also ready to talk about some pretty freaky stuff. Plus the selection is great for whatever level of freaky you’re ready for.
While I was taking mental notes on my favorite V-Day specials, I couldn’t help but notice the last-minute shoppers. One lady, a massage therapist, was shopping for her friend who had just lost everything in a fire. She thought her friend would appreciate a “personal massager” ASAP. Heck, the woman decided to get a new one for herself too! (I should mention that talking to employees at novelty shops in Texas is hilarious, because they are strictly bound to using the terms “educational model” and “personal massager” thanks to an absurd TX law).
Then a man, mid-30s, nervously asked an employee to explain the differences in some other battery-powered toys. He decided to go with the one that “provided the most pleasure for her.” What a nice guy!
I didn’t sit there and eves drop the whole time, I swear. I ended up writing an entry about my V-Day favs at FF. I know it’s a little late now, but you can check out what I had to say about this shop, and others, at The Naughty Chair.
Music with Class
Beethoven’s head has been hovering on a banner down Red River (the street) for quite a while.
It’s not every day a classical composers’ likeness floats by while cruising the pinnacle of Austin sin. Because of his riskiness to be in the neighborhood, I thought I might just give Austin Symphony a chance Sat. night.
The darkness of thunder and rain left me no choice: I would park in a handicap spot. Forgive me.
The hurried upper-class sounded like animals longing for shelter: the clip-clopping women in dresses and heels, men in their suits and black golf umbrellas, holding hands with their children who would soon grow up to be distinguished citizens—After all, their parents took them to see a rendition of Beethoven when they were four.
A little boy looked up at his dad, clad in plaid tucked into khaki, hair blond and resisting disturbance from the unfortunate weather, and said, “Why can’t I watch Star Wars dad? Luke Skywalker is a hero.” Even at four or five, why does this kid not have permission to watch Star Wars?
“You will like all the pretty instruments and the sounds they make,” the dad said. That wasn’t his question, I thought.
Yes, even the oxygen that filtered through the torrents of rain circling the symphony hall parking lot was even Westlake-worthy. It made me not believe that my ticket was so cheap. I only paid $19 to rub elbows with Austin’s finest. I sat behind the upright bass sections’ backs, of course.
I did wonder though what Beethoven would have thought of the main advertisement in the program, which said, “Plastic surgery is an art and we support people who support the arts.”
The Future Leaders of America…or Budweiser
It is the place you will spot your next boss (maybe) and the second home of all the future Bill Gates, Donald Trump’s and Steve Jobs, et cetera. It is also the place I spend most of my free time during the week-sitting on my favorite grimey bench on the second floor. Guess the place yet? On a particulary busy Thursday night, there I sat, people watching/"studying." A multitude of students walked by, most holding some kind of coffee thermos in their hand and looking dreadfully tired. Most everyone was sporting a pair of Sperry Top Sider shoes (Not going to lie..I own three pairs) and wearing a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Why, there is no doubting this is UT! I intersected bits and pieces of conversations, mostly dealing with excited chatter for Thurday evening or a few, “Man, I SO bombed that test!” groans. However, as I looked up to rest my eyes from my ever-so-interesting Spanish book, one sad looking girl walked by sniffling and sneezing up a storm whist chatting on her cell phone. She was walking very slowly and looked really sick, I felt just terrible for her. Then she uttered some of the most profound words, that I would have guessed to have been on a saturday Night Live Skit, to whomever with she was angry on the other end of that phone…
Girl: (sounding like talking in a bubble and YELLING) “I know I’m sick but it is so NOT OKAY that you spiked my gatorade!”
Phone Guy: Guessing he asked, “Well, don’t you feel better?”
Girl: “No I don’t feel better! You spiked my gatorade!” (Then she walked outside and let the door slam behind her.)
Ahhhh, such a loving and heartfelt conversation. I do hope that girl feels better, and If I ever take a sip of Gatorade with a a funky aftertaste..I will know the culprit.
Today I salute you Mr. Gatorade Spiker Guy! You single-handedly pissed off your girlfriend...nothing hotter than an angry, and possibly drunk, sick girl.
I want a dog now.
Instead of doing homework like I should, on this beautiful Sunday afternoon I went to the Austin Humane Society. I had no intention of buying or even wanting a dog at this time in my life when I share an apartment, but one look into those big puppy-dog eyes...and I was doomed. I went with my boyfriend who is dying to get a dog to see if there were any yellow labs to adopt, but I think I came out more excited than he did to get one. Right off 183 and Anderson lane is a building filled with cats and dogs. Personally, I had always gotten dogs from a breeder, but after seeing these dogs in cages all I can think is that I would be saving a life...a dog’s life. It was fairly crowded and I was expecting the worse of smells when I walked in. To my surprise it was very “alcohol” clean, nothing of trash on the floor and a friendly face to greet you when you came in. Straight in front were all sorts of cats and people could take a cat into a private room to see how it would react. That was nice, but I am more of dog person so I followed the sign that said DOGS and came to a big steel door with a sheet of paper that read, “Do not touch dogs through their cages.” Well that is just crazy talk...anyway as soon as I walked in the smell I had been waiting for found me...but you get use to it fast. The room lined with aisles of cages was full of emotion: couples picking out their first pet, kids so excited to finally get a dog and of course barking. I fell in love with a yellow lab named Vincent who was so shy and would just lick my hand and a little dark brown puppy ( I have no idea what kind) that just wanted to jump in my arms. (The no touching rule went right out the window). Upon leaving, I was glad to see the line to adopt was long and people still have a big heart for animals. I recommend going if you need a smile. Now I have to find it in my budget to get a dog!
La Dolce Panino
Searching for a place in the sun and a dent in my load of homework, I drove out to Sixth and Pedernales-ish to look for a new coffee shop, but the two over there I found are closed on Sundays.
Soo I went down to Duval and 42nd-ish- to La Dolce Vita. It’s right next to Hyde Park Bar & Grill and holy crap there’s a parking lot in the back. Austin surprises me time and time again. I’ve been there once for gelato and it was fabulous, but this time I decided to spring for the Bull Panino, because salty stuff was a dollar off just for today. It was still 8 dollars and I had to tell cashier boy about the deal for him to take my precious dollar off, but he was cute so I let it slide. I know an 8 sandwich is ridiculous, but no kidding, it was. The. best. sandwich I have ever had! Roast beef, red pepper, provolone cheese on toasted bread. Mmmm.
What I like about the place is the atmosphere. Things written on the menu are actually Italian and spelled correctly. They have wide variety of good food, from gelato, their specialty to martinis. Just a tip: café corretto is coffee with booze in it, so don’t order that in the morning unless you’re really Italian. The eclectic music today came from cashier boy’s iPod, hooked up to a radio on top of a fridge. Some guy who evidently works there? came in with his dog and let some kids feed the pooch some pepperoni. It’s a great place for studying, a date or for families. A guy named Travis who evidently met the cashier (now identified as Joe) at a party. Funniest thing overheard today:
from Joe to Trav about the party: “Man, you hit your head and had a huge gash in your face.”
Trav “Yea, that hurt.”
Austin: Matt’s El Rancho= Niño friendly
Matt’s El Rancho restaurant off S. Lamar brings new meaning to the phrase “kid-friendly.”
The entrance door is epic, emblazoned with a carved sun. The restaurant is huge and looks like the main floor of a hotel converted into a Mexican restaurant. Seeing as how it was a Sunday the place was packed- with kids- which is alarming at first for students who never get out of the college bubble.
With perfect weather after a horrible, rainy Saturday, we opted to sit on the patio, which also happened to be where all the families wanted to sit. Matt’s El Rancho must be used to this crowd because there were cautionary signs every six inches warning parents not to let their kids scamper among the garden area.
In the local tradition, plenty of vegetarian options were offered, and I recommend the Chile Rellenos with whole bean and Monterrey jack cheese.
As if the dining area and patio area were not filled enough with children, the women’s bathroom was on a whole new level. One woman was in there with her four kids taking up all the stalls, but they were cute so I let it pass, especially the kid who was happy because he washed his hands on his own.
For an atmosphere different from the college crowd Matt’s El Rancho is a pretty good choice, and the kids aren’t that bad either.
The Sheople at the Airport
The tale of the delayed flight
As I walk to gate seven, whiffs of oven-lamp warmed food and body odor glide along tepid air streams. Shiny steel finishes on the furniture glisten, distracting my eyes temporarily from the drab colors of the carpet designed for maximum stain concealment. I imagine my every step squashes a bacteria colony’s seasonal orgy. The male voice of authority interrupts any linear thought every five minutes to remind travelers not to be idiots while dozens of black bags obediently follow closely behind their over caffeinated masters, carrying their property. The sound of their wheels coalesces into what sounds like giant mutated bloated bees buzzing. Almost everyone is on a cell phone. Rows of chairs bolted together offer temporary foot relief. Time to do the one thing you just have to do before you leave Austin: Wait for an airplane.
I sit down and look around at the sheople clutching their belongings, guarding them from strangers. Most stare off into another dimension. Fingers troll magazines and shopping bags rustle as people wiggle around in their chairs in search of something to do. Anything to kill the time. “Hey Patsy. Just calling to tell you our flight’s been delayed. It’s not taking off at 1:25, “ the John Wayne wannabe next to me says. Numerous noses slurp up boogers behind me. In front of me, flannel pants that have seen dozens of wash cycles refuse to accommodate the full expanse of a restless woman’s girth and redirect the overflow into her sweatshirt. Her spawn pesters her to share her strawberry Aquafina while she rummages through her purse. “I wanna sip! I wanna sip!” I stare out into the expanse of government subsidized private property in which I can’t film without a permit and wait.
