The Visitor

Years ago, when I was a young lad, I'd typically go out to night clubs and bars four to five times a week. It was part of my routine. Get home from work, eat supper, clean up a bit, write a few hours, then head to Sixth Street (the main entertainment area in Austin) or some other nearby hot spot.

The Continental Club

I wasn't exactly rich, so I'd usually try to convince the guy at the door to let me in without paying a cover because it was late. I was actually pretty successful, partly because most of them knew I was a regular. If I couldn't get in, well, I'd try someplace else because I realized that going out so much could really deplete my funds.

Stevie Ray Vaughn at ACL

They were great times as I heard a lot of really good bands. Many of these were on the way up. Stevie Ray Vaughan, The Fabulous Thunderbirds, etc. often played the small clubs I hit. Some gained momentum here in Austin, the Reivers, Soul Hat, Glass Eye, etc. but never quite made the arena level that they aspired to. I still loved them and often bought their CDs that they'd sell at the back of the club.

Antone's (on the Drag)

So I've blogged about the scene and music, but this is about The Visitor.

Every now and then I'd have a visitor I knew quite well come into town to see me. Often these visits were unannounced. At best, he’d give me a few days notice and would give me a percentage of the chance he'd actually make it.

"There's an 80% chance I'm coming over.”

Although he wasn't as close as my in town friends, nor as wild/fun, it was still pleasant to see him. After all, I'd known him longer than just about everyone else. We had a history you might say.

Let me also mention that I had roommates. Yep, even after I got out of college. I mean, isn't that the best way to save money if you aren’t rolling in the dough? That's why I never said I was poor, as I could split the bills and so afford luxury items like beer. It wasn't until much later that I could afford to live on my own.

Texas Chili Parlor

Anyway, so The Visitor would come over, often on Friday, and me and the roomies would try to get him to go out with us. After some cajoling he'd often relent. I remember hitting The Chili Parlor and Lance and I would enjoy several Magnums (rum and Coke) while he just slowly drank a beer. As we got more enebreated we started to suggest he flash his credit card to impress some nearby females. He was a lawyer and had more bucks than us, so we kept telling him to try and lure them in with his prestige. Guess he wasn’t as “loose” as we were and passed.

Liberty Lunch (drummer is on the bar)

I remember one time I tried to get him to go with me to see The Replacements at Liberty Lunch. Boy, he fought that but finally relented. Once there, he had a great time. He really got into the band, the atmosphere, the cute women.

As the years went by though it got more and more difficult to get him to go out.

“Oh, I think I'll stay here and read the paper and watch the news.”

Jay watching TV the right way

So I gave up. It had become as difficult as trying to pull a tooth and didn’t seem worth my effort to try and entertain him. Of course, I also didn’t think it would be right for me to just abandon him, so as much as I wanted to go hit the night spots, I stayed home. I’d watch TV.

 

The odd thing is that nowadays he says I watch a lot of TV. This sort of bothers me because I really don’t. If you didn’t count the news or sports I’d only watch about an hour a day.

 

It’s perception. He only sees me hanging around the house and watching TV. So maybe he’s right. Plus, now that I’m retired, I tend not to go out at night. I do often go out during the day though. Stop at a brew pub or brewery tap room and grab a beer. I’m not sure I have the patience I did in my youth, so going to see some band who shows up an hour late just isn’t my scene anymore.

 

So, when the Visitor comes around these days, I just hang around with him. Now he might be right about the TV watching. Oh, well, I still have some good memories from the days gone by.

The Visitor and Jay (a few years ago)

The Long Term Relationship

Back when Sixth Street in Austin, Texas wasn’t the hip, over-crowded amusement scene of today, I remember going to my favorite bar at the time, Maggie Mae’s.  Only 15 feet wide (I still think it was just an alley someone put a roof over) this British-style pub had great beers and the typical Austin laid-back attitude.  It also had two guitarists who played there regularly and who were as great at telling a tale as singing a verse.

 

One night I went in and only one of the guys sat playing at the usual spot at the back.  When he took a break, I asked him what happened to his friend.

“Dude got pissed at me, packed up his stuff and headed to LA.”

I think at that moment I fell in love and began my long-term relationship with Austin music.  A simple tale of two musicians having a falling out, one staying to continue to strum his tunes, one seeking brighter horizons.  In other words, great environment, tasty beer, a compelling story, an ever-changing scene and enjoyable music.

Austin calls itself “The Live Music Capital of the World.”  We Austinites will defend that reputation by pointing out that on any given night you can find hundreds of bands playing at just as many bars, night clubs, grocery stores, record shops, street corners, well, anyplace where there’s a chance someone will listen.  

The Austin music scene isn’t the main reason I have stayed here so long (some friends still say it was soccer), but it’s one of many reasons I’ve remained in this vibrant, creative and easy-going city.  It’s a relationship that has far outlasted any other relationship I’ve had here (the longest with a female: six months).

Many of my short-term relationships with women have begun by hitting some nightclub to listen to music (and maybe meet someone).  The two of us cruising for tunes at the various venues often extended those relationships.

Like the two musicians at Maggie Mae’s, the hundreds, maybe thousands, of venues in Austin come and go, change into something else or expand to unbelievable proportions.  For example, Maggie Mae’s still has that 15-foot wide bar, but it also now has a large, adjoining room as well as an additional space upstairs.

One of the first places I went to for my music addiction was The Split Rail.  A dive that drew large crowds, loud musicians, and great times. Sadly, there’s a Wendy’s on the site now.  A fond memory I like to tell folks is that one time while driving to my apartment in the Riverside area, I passed Mother Earth, another dark dive that people flocked to every night.  On the marquee was the word “Police.”  I thought, “Hmm, I wonder if they are a bunch of APD guys who do gigs in their off hours.”  You probably guessed that it was actually Sting and Co. in their early days of playing small venues to make ends meet.

The names of some of the other hundreds of venues include The Armadillo, Steamboat, The Back Room, Soap Creek Saloon, Antone’s, Club Foot, The Continental Club, Austin Opera House, Hole in the Wall, Liberty Lunch, Raul’s, Black Cat, Cactus Cafe, Zonkers, La Zona Rosa, Emo’s, Flamingo Cantina,

                    (U2 at Club Foot circa 1981; photo Ace Muroga-a former college roommate!)
Electric Lounge, Elephant Room, Saxon Pub, The Ritz Theater, Austin Music Hall, Broken Spoke…Well, the list goes on and on and on.  Many have disappeared and are just pleasant memories, others have survived (it’s a tough, competitive place here in Austin) and/or moved.

You can’t mention Austin music and not talk about the fests and outdoor concerts.  The first one I discovered came early in my life here in Austin.  It was called the Austin Aqua Fest.  It happened in the best location, down on Auditorium Shores on Town Lake (now called Lady Bird Lake).  It lasted a number of days and each night was labeled with a special theme, such as Czech Night.  They had all sorts of booths with food, crafts and knickknacks for sale, but also featured music.  Often it related to the night.  For example on German Night there might be a few oompah and polka bands, but also local groups had a chance to feature their songs. 

Auditorium Shores used to be my favorite place to go for music.  You could spend all day outdoors listening to loud rock music while staring at the serene Colorado River (yeah when it rolled through town we called it Town Lake) and the Austin skyline, including the capitol building.  I say used to because although the river/lake and shoreline is still there, the Austin skyline is now littered with gigantic skyscrapers.  Oh, it's still fun to go there, but not quite the same as when the city was not such a megopolis.

One of the best music fests I went to down there was the T-Bird Riverfest.  At one point (in the rain), Stevie Ray Vaughn wrapped his arms around his brother Jimmie and played a fantastic song on a double guitar.  I should point out there now is a statue of Stevie Ray down on the shores.  If you come to Austin and don't visit him, you have missed the soul of our city.

A few of the other fests that have enhanced my long term relationship include SxSW (I might have to do a single blog on it); Fun, Fun, Fun; Austin Summer Fest; Austin Celtic Festival, Rites of Spring; Reggae Fest; Festival De La Luna; well, there’s been a lot.

Of course, I have to mention the thousands of bands I’ve seen at these fests and clubs.  Some of the locals I’ve been infatuated with include WC Clark, Skank, The Skunks, Standing Waves, Zeitgeist (later The Reivers), Lou Ann Barton, Joe Ely, Glass Eye, Junior Brown, Will Sexton, Bad Livers, True Believers, the Vaughn Brothers (Stevie & Jimmie), Kim Wilson, Tish Hinojosa, Omar & The Howlers, Dangerous Toys, The Ken, Doctor’s Mob, The Explosives, Eric Johnson, Poi Dog Pondering, Alvin Crow, Soul Hat, Storyville, The Coffee Sergeants, Uranium Savages, Little Sister, T-Birds, Van Wilks, Austin Lounge Lizards, Black Pearl, well, you know the list goes on forever and the party never ends. Ahem.

Of course there were the national touring groups too that kept me madly in love with the Austin scene.  Some you heard of such as U2, Foreigner, The Rolling Stones, The Boss (you know who), The Chieftains, The Alarm, Alice Cooper, Frank Zappa, Squeeze, Willie, Waylon and the Boys (sometimes considered Austinites), Peter Gabriel, AC/DC, Midnight Oil, Crowded House, etc.  Some you may not have such as Dash Rip Rock, Tragically Hip, Hoo Doo Gurus, Freedy Johnson, Robert Earl Keen, Killdaires, Little Steven, Icehouse, L7, Guy Clark, Great Big Sea, Jayhawks, Altan, Cowboy Mouth, and on and on.  Yes, if they wander the US and play music, they probably stop in at Austin.

As you can probably guess, this has been the most expensive relationship.  Typically, in the old days anyway, when I went to a club/bar I'd try to talk the person at the door into letting me in for free.  With lines like "it's the last band, I've missed most of the show" and a few more clever ones, I often succeeded. However, the majority of the time I paid the cover. To this day I still believe if I hadn't been in the relationship and just saved the money I'd be pretty rich.  I think a great experience is more important than money, so I don't really have any regrets about this relationship at all.

Of course, with any relationship it waxes and wanes.  I’m still madly in love but have to admit, the fire is gone these days.  It’s me, not you, um, I mean, the Austin Music Scene.  As an older guy it sometimes seems strange to hit a nightclub and see all these young kids wandering around me (and I swear they're always moving—and I don't mean dancing).  This also bothers me because I don’t think those “kids” show the proper respect to Austin music as they seem to be constantly talking during the music—or nowadays, looking at their cell phones.  So I’m still in love, I just don’t get up to get down as much as I used to in the old days. 

Don’t’ fret about this relationship though.  Even if I were to move, or find a long-term female relationship, or lose my hearing, or pass on, I will always be faithful.

James Thurber would have loved Austin

The Thurber Brigade apologizes for the length of this blog, but when you talk about long term relationships you don't minimize your expression of that love.

Throw Me A Line

In the distant past, well, really only about four years, I wrote a blog about how men "throw lines" to begin the process of interacting with females. It gave some sage advice, ahem, and also mentioned how women don't throw lines (just like they don't make first contact. It's related).  Anyway, I suddenly realized very recently that I no longer throw lines.

Well, normally. If my testosterone levels go off the scale, say in the case of a supermodel-esque female's presence, I might. For the most part though, I instead just try to engage the female in conversation. It could be something like, "did you see the news report about the water in Barton Springs?" (A big issue here in Austin), or "I always drink a cup of water when I have a beer. It's part of my "save Jay's liver campaign.""

Oh, sure, you could say that is still throwing a line, but it's nowhere in the realm of "what's a super model doing here at the local bar?" Or "you must be a thief because you've stolen my heart" (Heard those, didn't use them).  No, it's just me trying to get someone to talk to me. No different really than if a guy sat next to me at the bar and I wanted to do more than just drink my beer or work on a blog. i.e. Talk.

It could be age. Maybe I'm so old (hey, no snide thoughts there buster) that I no longer believe I have the silver tongue of my youth or that I no longer possess the youthful imperative that young males have to hook up. However, I think it's that I have just become more accepting of the situation. In other words, I have the thought that if the target wants to engage good, if not, no big deal.

In the old days, I'm positive I was the master of throwing lines. For example, I remember telling a women drinking wine at a brewpub: "You know it's against the law to drink wine at a beer brewing establishment?  So I'm going to have to ask you for some ID." Or one I'm still not proud of, but it seemed to work: I made a bet with my buddy this morning that I would meet the most beautiful woman in the world and it looks like he owes me ten bucks."

Now, before you judge me too harshly, remember this was the 70s-80s and Austin.  Women were much different in attitude back then and if not more accepting of goofy lines, more understanding of how difficult it is for guys making contact. Even today I trust women understand the challenges of a guy making contact when he's alone and there are two females or when two guys are winging it and encounter a single (nervous) woman.

I also feel obligated to mention that the venues of those years were completely different then today. In Austin we had fantastic and cool places to hang such as The Split Rail, The Back Room, Steamboat and everyone's favorite The Armadillo.  Ahhhh. Throwing lines at those places was so common and expected and, well fun, that everyone just went with it.

Oops, I digress.  Be careful when an Austinite begins a sentence with "in the old days in Austin...".

Anyway, I don't do that anymore. Yes I'm older and admittedly I'm not as successful as in my youth, but part of the problem is that many older women still think they are teenagers. One of my rules is that if a female I'm interested in is past the age of 35 she may no longer play games.

Oh, you know what I'm talking about. Things like acting coy/aloof when in fact she is interested; not willing to say more than yes and no to the guy's questions when she really wants to tell him her life history; unwilling to call him after they exchange numbers even though she's already put him on speed dial. You get it.

Too many older women gripe about us dudes going out with younger females (the reason behind my hunting tips blog) but still want to act like the situation has not changed. Well, it has.  If we have to risk the perils and depression of rejection, why not take a chance on a younger model?  If we must always take the chance that we will become the butt of numerous females complaints about men being animals for our brash desire to be with a female, why not go for someone not jaded by years of relationships they disliked but were unwilling to take a bold step and try to start a new one on their own?

I'm sure there are other older guys out there who still feel the imperative that tells them they must go home with a female. However, I have encountered quite a few like me who accept that if we succeed it's great, yet don't despair if we go home alone. After all, although it's sure nice to wake up with a warm body beside you, it's also nice to be able to watch football all day without someone reminding us to mow the lawn, or to be able to drink beer late into the night and watch "Die Hard" or other action movies instead of having wine and cheese parties.

(oh, you knew I was going to drop a Bruce Willis picture in here somewhere, right?)

So females need to drop the games and do their part to reach out to someone or quit complaining when they see us old geezers with a younger, partying-crazy version of themselves.

 Ahhh, James Thurber!

Whew, aren't you glad this wasn't another sidestep about police brutality or some other topical issue? Although there are plenty of lousy things going on right now, we at The Thurber Brigade believed we needed to get back on track. However, with the weirdness that is the Donald Trump candidacy and the ever present police anger management-less force on the streets, there's no guarantee that a sidestep won't reappear.

Lonely are the Brave

A number of blogs ago, I covered how women absolutely fear making "First Contact."  As much as they believe in equality, it sure doesn't extend to this social endeavor. What I didn't go into though is how they talk a good game, but have no ability to carry through.

Sort of like the short boy who talks trash on a basketball court but then gets slaughtered when he plays in an actual game. He typically doesn't recognize this disparity and if he's lucky enough to actually make a basket will launch once again into a barrage of self-marketing that doesn't correspond to his ability (trash talk, I just didn't want to repeat the phrase).

Oh, you've seen this before and for quite some time. A perfect example is that old Coke commercial where all the women in an office gather at a window each day to watch a construction worker who takes off his shirt to drink a Coca Cola. I should point out how I also blogged once about women's selective vision (Because most women are turned off by construction workers). Anyway, they are all excited about this "hot" guy, but make no attempt at contact. Think any of them will race to that construction site after work to talk to him? Of course not!

I'm a notorious eavesdropper. It's my habit to go to bars, have a drink or two and listen to the conversations around me. It's to help my writing. Really. Anyway, I have lost count of the times I've overheard a table full of women talk about this hot guy or that. However, not once have I ever overheard about how they went up and asked the guy out. I have heard countless times their sadness that he didn't contact them, usually followed with an assertion that the guy must be gay. Yeah, trash talk, no follow-through.

What really gets me though is how so many women talk about how they love sex. There supposedly are studies that show how women really do love sex as much as men, but I've always written them off as the respondents were likely old ladies in a knitting circle filling out a questionnaire.  "Do I like sex? Oh, my, yes, I love sex," they'll say to themselves while reading the test.  They'll then check off the appropriate boxes but never show signs of following through.

These women, supposedly so crazy about sex, are not driven to it the same way as males. Yeah, I've blogged about this too. They have a romantic ideal of love but it's nowhere as compelling as the testosterone-driven urges males experience for sex. So women will visualize making passionate love to that hot construction worker, but will never do anything overt to make it happen. Guys are so driven to sex that the less-evolved of us will resort to catcalls to try to get attention. Socially a no-no, but guys understand the reflex. We're constantly on the hunt.

This disparity is really obvious to us guys from hearing horror stories from our buddies who got married. Suddenly the vixen they knew while dating has turned into the knitting granny. She'll tell her friends how much she likes sex, but will only partake once a month after hubby has taken her to The Ritz (or some other special activity approved by the female).

I remember one conversation with a friend very clearly. He had wondered why I never got married. I admitted that I regretted not having a steady stream of sexual pleasure.  He looked at me scornfully, shook his head and said: "oh, Jay, you just don't understand marriage."

We also hear countless stories of our friends making overtures to their spouses and being rejected—except when the female wants to disrupt a guy's plans for later. Of course, what I'm talking about is how a guy tries to get some on Thursday, is rebuffed, and then on Sunday when he's getting ready to hunker in front of The Tube to watch the Raiders vs. Lions she suddenly gets amorous. That's right, some game comes on the male wants to watch and the female suddenly reverts to her single days. The mood seems to pass after the game though, and she invariably will tell her friends how much she likes sex, but her caveman male is just never interested.

We single guys have it tough too because obviously we have to do the hunting (make contact). The female, professing to like sex, makes it difficult for the male to hook up. My own classical example is one night going out to a local nightclub called "The Continental Club." A dark, loud and very cool bar/music venue back in the "old Austin" days (for those who remember, it had a pool table in front. Yeah, that long ago). Nowadays, it's still okay, but is more "hip" then cool.  Anyway, I asked 10 different women to dance. Not one accepted. Not even the one standing beside the dance floor tapping her foot. Not the one swaying by the bar. Perhaps they thought I might be a serial killer (come on, I was a cutie in the old days when I had hair), but really all I wanted to do was dance and maybe make an introduction. Sure, Cyndi Lauper, "girls just want to have fun." 

Hunting is tough for us single males.

I could bring up more tales, such as female erotica writers irritated by contact from males, or women supposedly on the prowl who go out in large, ominous packs, or (more common) women who lament lack of male companionship yet never venture out to where males congregate, but you get the point: if you talk trash, be able to back it up with performance. 

The notorious Thurber Brigade note: Yes, you guessed it.  The title of this blog is taken from a great 60s movie staring Kirk Douglas and Walter Matthau. LONELY ARE THE BRAVE concerns the difficulty of facing change. It's a sad movie, but give it a view some time.