Sunday, December 10, 2006

Storms of Life



I'm gearing up to move to NYC in February, but right now am listening to Randy Travis' album "Storms of Life," and know somehow that I'll be back in Texas to grow old. Listening to Travis now makes me homesick, even before I've left.

I had a college friend back in the '80s, with whom I'd always argue about where to go out on weekends. I wanted the punk clubs, she wanted the country places. We usually went country. While I didn't have mind-blowing times at Austin's "Dallas" or "North Forty," I did, nonetheless, like the mix of people---to me, there's never been anything more soul-deadening than a club full of shallow 20-year-olds (even when I was 20); what was cool about the country places that I went to is that there were people in their 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s, all hanging out, having beers and dancing and having a nice night out. When you get nothing but 20-somethings together, it becomes a cruel and creepy judgment-fest.

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