A few years back
-a lifetime ago-
a ceiling fan was being dusted
-an avalanche of dust bunnies
(too innocent- dust devils!)
cascaded to the floor
and my sister began to spin a tale…
My sister lived in Austin, Texas. Austinites consider themselves unique, SPECIAL,
consider themselves above common folk abiding beyond their borders.
You can’t actually BE an Austinite unless you have a “Keep Austin Weird” bumper sticker attached to your vehicle and your guitar case. In the wee hours of the morning, just before the sun rises, fairies adhere “Keep Austin Weird” bumper stickers whether you want them or not. (This is not true,
but- dang – it appears true.)
As a resident of Fort Worth (Panther City, Cowtown, Where the West Begins, Queen City of the Prairie, Funky Town) I have exceedingly little room to talk about the branding of other cities, but talk I will.
In all sincerity, if you have I do TELL everyone you are weird, the weird ship has sailed. But I digress, and we have a tale to tell.
My sister purchased a kayak and was itching to take it for a spin. She decided that as a TRUE Austinite and not just some lousy tourist, she would launch off the shores of Lady Bird Lake and paddle to the Congress Avenue Bridge to find the perfect spot to view of the nightly60 plus miles per hour exodus of the pregnant Mexico free-tailed bats.
The day had been beautiful. The skies were clear the colors of the setting sun blazed overhead. My sister boldly paddled beyond the “tourist boats” and positioned herself beneath the opening of the bat cave and waited.
She waited and mused, “Look at all those pitiful tourists watching from the bridge. I, a TRUE Austinite, am here in the middle of the Colorado River with the best view.”
Basking in the superiority of it and chuckling to herself it started to rain. Slowly and then it faster and faster until it was a deluge.
My sister is batshit crazy.
At least she comes by it honestly.