The tanker trucks just roll on past
Grass grows tall on the railroad tracks
I’m tired of hearing those stories ’bout way back when…
— “Tumbleweed” by Gwil Owen
When I hear or read about Austin, the capital of Texas and site of a lot of newsmaking, two thoughts immediately pop into mind.
The first is a women’s basketball trip during spring break of my junior year at college, when I covered my alma mater’s first (of many since) appearance in the NCAA Tournament. I got to travel with the team, stay in the team hotel overlooking the capitol building, attend the banquet in a place along the Colorado River and, on my own, stroll down Sixth Street.
The second is the song above, performed by Austin legend Toni Price. The whole piece is a masterpiece.
Both resurfaced last weekend when I flew into Austin–Bergstrom International Airport to spend a few days with a friend dealing with some weighty issues. I hadn’t been there since 1988; I wondered how it’s changed, given that change is the only constant in life.
A lot like Chico, it’s grown. Unlike Chico, it’s a lot more crowded. I know people here complain about traffic, when not harping on homelessness and parking — the latter two also issues in Austin. But even during peak rush hour, I’ve never had a 20-minute commute turn into an hour and a half of highway idling.
Downtown Austin still has a lot of its old charm. The aforementioned capitol still cuts a nice silhouette in the skyline, even with taller towers in the vicinity. Historic buildings remain. So do iconic pieces of public art, including one that wasn’t there in ’88, the “I love you so much” mural on the side of Jo’s Coffee.
Jo’s is on South Congress Avenue. That street has history, too. It’s a lot like downtown Chico, were Main and Broadway contiguous instead of parallel. Shops, galleries, restaurants and attractions seamlessly coexist within walking distance (albeit a longer walk) from the university.
Browsing South Congress, I felt like I was viewing a Pintrest board for Meriam Park. The newer places have the mix of metal, wood, glass and color that unifies yet also distinguishes the district. Aspirational for our downtown, multiuse structures are commonplace — storefronts downstairs, residences upstairs.
South Congress has diagonal back-in parking like Chico City Plaza. Downtown, front-in diagonal spaces sit between bulb-outs. Both spots have a Chico-like system of codes and kiosks instead of meters, though we missed the sign and didn’t see a kiosk where we parked on South Congress and my friend got a ticket ($20 if paid before the hearing date, $30 otherwise).
Guess what else I saw? Actually — who? Unhoused people. California doesn’t have a monopoly on misfortune, even if sometimes it seems like we do.
A man on Sixth Street politely asked for a dollar as he walked past. Another stood with a sign. Were I there longer, I’d have had time to learn how Texans approach homelessness, but my focus was my friend.
A highlight: The Texas Toy Museum and Arcade. We spend a couple hours weaving through the vintage arcade games and collectables on a scavenger hunt that brought back memories of both our childhood decades. We found the Holy Grail by locating Waldo of the “Where’s Waldo” books. (Hint: He’s not in the Sears catalog I checked page by page … )
Like I said, Austin has grown. Folks around those parts remember when the population was a tenth the size of 2.2 million; my other visit, it was 525,000. Change is inevitable when growth is inevitable.
I never lived there, just as I didn’t live in Chico when it was a rural burg of 35,000. What I’ve experienced is the climb from 85,000 to 110,000 — significant, but more like the final push to the summit of Mount Everest than the journey to base camp.
Nowhere is perfect. We have problems to solve, greater than lamenting coin-operated parking meters. Waxing nostalgic has its place. Even so … “I’m tired of hearing stories ’bout way back when.” Spring forward.
Reach weekend editor Evan Tuchinsky at etuchinsky@chicoer.com
