Two words describe Austin: Awe.Some. I could not have had a better time in the Lone Star State. For the last month, I’ve felt the call of adventure, more so than usual, and I feel the tug of something–and who knows what force precisely, it defies description–guiding me to Texas. There’s a lot to like about about this state of proud independents.

For starters, Texans are polite, in ways my North East tainted mind can barely comprehend. I was in a crowded bar on a Saturday night, and despite the hordes of people grooving to a slamming band, I made it to the bathroom without getting in a near fist fight. In fact, my shoulders never even brushed against another patron. I didn’t have to glare at someone to get them to step aside or say excuse me–they left a generous path all the way around the bar and right to the bathroom! Of their own volition! What?

Second, the people are accessible. Texans gave me the feeling that I could talk to whoever, provided I remembered my Midwest manners. One could lob a mere hello and net a full conversation back in return. Whoa. I didn’t have to pump people for information or fish around for some hidden connection, or be overtly charming. I just was myself.

Third, the women are gorgeous. Nothing more need be said on that subject.

And the last thing I liked about Austin Texas was its duality; it’s really two cities. By day, 401k mangers, politicians and lawyers rule the concrete and glass. By night and weekends another type of person roams the darkness and neon.

It’s 9:30 PM Saturday, August 4th. Our tagline: Keep Austin Weird. Sixth Street is closed to motorists. Bands are pumping out rock from the rooftops. Every sort of character walks the streets freely. The air smells of money and possibility. This is Austin, Texas:

When you mess up, a judge assigns community service. He had to figure out if 30,000 dollars could buy enough paint to coat the apartment building across the street.

Enjoying a Newcastle on draft, at the movies.

Thirty minutes before, he was a man on fire. Literally.

Ask them about what one can put in their hookahs.

OK,maybe not.

For dinner, we had seafood poured right onto a wax paper coated table, with a view.

Never seen such a blue sky.

One hepcat.

He was a bit pissed about the bartender at Coyote Ugly charging him $5.50 for a beer. Don’t tell him I paid $3.

Austin is growing.

After a few too many.

Almost got ink done.

They had the right idea.