The New & Unproved Work/Job/Career Thread

[doug rr]

rank the least suck places to live..

[bodysnatcher]

Cincinnati

[doug rr]

the last time I was in Austin was probably 6 years ago or so...stayed with a good friend that used to live next door to us in California..anyway, we all went and pigged out on bbq at Salt Lick..once we got back to their place it turned into a jam session in the basement..he had every guitar you could think of and more...he let me play an old Martin D-28...his wife jammed with us while wearing one of those old washboards around her neck..good times

[Jorge]

Austin is WAY better than Houston, one of the most boring and depressing cities I've ever visited

Agreed.

Austin is a monoculture. Those "keep Austin weird" bumper stickers have been futile for at least a decade. How many coffee shops and music clubs does one town need?

Whatever. It felt pretty diverse, interesting and FUN the times I've been. But more importantly, it is being compared to Houston which just sucks unbelievable amounts of ass

[bodysnatcher]

Austin is WAY better than Houston, one of the most boring and depressing cities I've ever visited

Agreed.

Austin is a monoculture. Those "keep Austin weird" bumper stickers have been futile for at least a decade. How many coffee shops and music clubs does one town need?

Whatever. It felt pretty diverse, interesting and FUN the times I've been. But more importantly, it is being compared to Houston which just sucks unbelievable amounts of ass

Houston is more fun if you pronounce it like the street in Manhattan and watch people lose their minds

[doug rr]

Austin is WAY better than Houston, one of the most boring and depressing cities I've ever visited

Agreed.

Austin is a monoculture. Those "keep Austin weird" bumper stickers have been futile for at least a decade. How many coffee shops and music clubs does one town need?

Whatever. It felt pretty diverse, interesting and FUN the times I've been. But more importantly, it is being compared to Houston which just sucks unbelievable amounts of ass

Houston is more fun if you pronounce it like the street in Manhattan and watch people lose their minds

great, now I want Russ and Daughters

[Jorge]

the last time I was in Austin was probably 6 years ago or so...stayed with a good friend that used to live next door to us in California..anyway, we all went and pigged out on bbq at Salt Lick..once we got back to their place it turned into a jam session in the basement..he had every guitar you could think of and more...he let me play an old Martin D-28...his wife jammed with us while wearing one of those old washboards around her neck..good times

That sounds nice Doug. I liked the Salt Lick too. I bought a bunch of their sauces and one of them burst in my luggage (thankfully I've become an expert at traveling with various sauces, so it was properly isolated from the rest of my belongings)

[lennytheweedwhacker]

rank the least suck places to live..

Huntsville

[bodysnatcher]

I took a huge dump in the fairmont hotel lobby bathroom in Austin. Great facilities. Would dump there again.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[doug rr]

the last time I was in Austin was probably 6 years ago or so...stayed with a good friend that used to live next door to us in California..anyway, we all went and pigged out on bbq at Salt Lick..once we got back to their place it turned into a jam session in the basement..he had every guitar you could think of and more...he let me play an old Martin D-28...his wife jammed with us while wearing one of those old washboards around her neck..good times

That sounds nice Doug. I liked the Salt Lick too. I bought a bunch of their sauces and one of them burst in my luggage (thankfully I've become an expert at traveling with various sauces, so it was properly isolated from the rest of my belongings)

it was one of those memorable nights..pot smoke everywhere..I wanted to steal that guitar..I found the brisket somewhat average though..the jalapeño cheese sausage was top notch though

[Jorge]

Austin is WAY better than Houston, one of the most boring and depressing cities I've ever visited

Agreed.

Austin is a monoculture. Those "keep Austin weird" bumper stickers have been futile for at least a decade. How many coffee shops and music clubs does one town need?

Whatever. It felt pretty diverse, interesting and FUN the times I've been. But more importantly, it is being compared to Houston which just sucks unbelievable amounts of ass

I'm definitely in the minority on RM, no idea about the rest of the world... But I love viewing cities through economic, infrastructure, and historical lenses. Put me in some bombed out manufacturing town in Pennsylvania and I'm fascinated by what once was, what now exists, where it's headed...

Bars and coffee shops and record stores... I like all that stuff on a day-to-day basis, for sure. But if you've seen one you've seen them all, and the implications on the housing market and income disparity have become too big for me to ignore when in a vacation mindset.

I see your point but I think every city does things differently and offers a different flavor in its cultural offerings; I fundamentally disagree with "if you've seen one, you've seen them all" when it comes to local culture. It just doesn't hold true for me at all

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[Jorge]

I've been to 3 of those 5 places and found a lot of uniqueness in each. I'm kind of baffled by some of the comparisons.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[doug rr]

A good Austin, tx includes the grand marquee experiences AND some exploration of small neighborhoods and good hole-in-wall establishments, mostly traversed on foot:

presidential library
food stalls book store
a random bakery

Walk through outer Austin waterfront park to see the bats fly at the bridge
bbq

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[doug rr]

any jelly filled?

[dad]

A good Austin, tx includes the grand marquee experiences AND some exploration of small neighborhoods and good hole-in-wall establishments, mostly traversed on foot:

presidential library
food stalls book store
a random bakery

Walk through outer Austin waterfront park to see the bats fly at the bridge
bbq

I did get some nice donuts in Austin

did you get them from gourdough's?

[Jorge]

They all tend to operate on an aesthetic facade of manufactured grit and bespoke creative enterprise, underwritten by AirB&B and trust fund economics

But so do a lot of cities all over the world that are nothing like Austin, Brooklyn, or Portland (including, some would say, parts of Buenos Aires). What I mean is this seems like a very reductive and superficial way to lump them together, they each have completely different characters... at least to me.

How long do you need to be somewhere to qualify as living there? I "lived" in Austin... for 6 months, many years ago, and have returned often since my sister moved there. I feel pretty attuned to its flavors and movement. The comparison to Brooklyn in terms of its cultural offerings and feel is making my head hurt. As you know not all of Brooklyn is Billyburg nor is all of Austin South Congress