I felt at home in Austin, way more of a crunchy granola place than I ever expected in Texas. I'm guessing part of that is because it is a school town, another part might be that it is a center of a rebellious, anarchic loosely associated group of musicians and songwriters. Grunge country, outlaw country, good songwriting with bad production values, whatever labels have been slapped across the face of this town's music scene it does seem to be pretty active. I'm guessing the participants would rankle some at being labeled at all. One way or the other, it seemed a warm welcoming place to me.
I spent a week there, started by walking the entire circumference of the city's riverfront park from Congress Avenue on the Austin side across and down to Zilker Gardens, back across and up to the city again. I capped the trip Friday night at the Broken Spoke an local institution and regular haunt of musicians who's music has accompanied my life. I got to meet one of them, Gary P. Nunn, and listened to some music, made at least one friend, bought a CD right from the artist himself.
A gentlemen and a great singer songwriter and showman.
Great music and dancing, (I watched), it made me yearn to learn to dance with Mary-Elizabeth...