Instructions for ACLife

Originally written for the Fall 2014 Austin Locale ACL Edition.

What’s the best way to survive Austin City Limits Music Festival? Everyone has a recommended list of groceries to haul around, a survival kit of sorts. It always contains a sampling from the shelves of CVS spanning all manners of hygiene, first aide, feminine products, and skin care. I agree with all these lists, though aside from baby wipes you probably won't use any of it.

Here’s the truth of the matter:  ACL, like life, depends more on what you do than what you bring. You will require a plan. Let’s begin.

First, assemble your team. You're going to need good people, the kind you can trust with your cash, your liquor stash, and your ride home. These folks must be musically coherent, obviously, but more importantly must have impeccable resilience, stamina, and good sense. You don't want to end up babysitting a weeping drunk or sitting outside the EMT tent twiddling your thumbs. Sharing memories with your BFFs is lovely, however, ain't nobody got time for divas, jerks, or wimps. Select only those you know you’ll still like on Monday morning.

Next up, logistics. Determine a meeting place outside the festival grounds (at least 1/4 mile or more). Use the time walking to Zilker Park to compare schedules, hydrate (intoxicate), and get to know each other. As the festival engulfs you in a loving embrace, you may find this is the last time you are able to meaningfully connect with these folks all day so use your walk wisely.

Also determine where to meet after the festival. I suggest the same place you left off to keep everything straight amid the dizzying mixture of THC, alcohol, people, and darkness. Make sure out-of-towners write down the address on paper. Your phone will be long dead by then so you'll have to rely on others, possibly even law enforcement, to find your way so be prepared.

We're getting close now. I can almost feel it. Eat something substantial before heading out into the bright, hot, musical sunshine; this is not the time to jump on the kale bandwagon. Slather on that SPF and chug a coconut water. If you have a living will, make sure your mom knows where it is.

Ducks in a row? Ok. Grab a map and off you go! It is nice (and safer) to have a comrade but there is no need to cling to the same ship all day. You're no barnacle. You're an insatiable, fearless music pirate out to claim your booty while swilling the whiskey you snuck in. Let music be your compass.

Devour your 3 days like you did the latest season of Orange is the New Black, entirely and unabashedly. Put your palms up and let the vibrations fuel you if you feel tired. Don't treat your fellow music devotees with disrespect. Stand awestruck at the talent that exists.  Blow a kiss to the skyline of our pretty city. Make new friends. Follow your plan loosely...you never know what luck you may have or magic you may uncover. 

At the end, however near death, if you feel euphoric, exhausted, and ready to buy your early-bird ticket for next year, you did it right. It isn’t what you had. It isn’t what you forgot or lost. It was what you did that made it good. And, much like in life, it was what you did that you’ll remember.

Slow Cookers and Other Snail-Paced Things

The passage of time is simply sensational. It heals, grows, dissolves, ages, marinates, ferments, and a whole heap of other amazing things. And you don't even really need to do anything for time to work its magic, though some tolerance can help time pass in your favor.

Many of my favorite things take time. I love a slow cooked anything and a glass of wine with an old friend. I love the anticipation of plans made in advance. I love looking through my scrapbooks. All of these things have a common vital component. 

Many people think of time as a thing you can't get back and they see this as a problem. Sure, but who would want it? The trick is to spend it and keep it like you know you can't get it back. It rewards you in return.

I was in Steamboat Springs recently. I had been skiing, drinking, listening to live music, smoking a tiny bit of that newly-legal green stuff. I paused briefly, really enjoying a moment, and realized the band was playing a song that had, just 12 months earlier, meant the opposite. It was a song of heartbreak, the usual painful country lyrics. One word seemed to resonate: salvage. That word had felt so negative and hopeless 12 months prior. Now it felt triumphant. This year, as I looked around at my incredible group of new friends, dancing and singing along with Turnpike Troubadours, with my new man's arm around me, a wave of gratitude for time and its constant movement forward swept over me.

My mom told me of a young person in my hometown who killed himself recently. How sad? We talked about how people don't always grasp that the enormity of a current situation is actually only a tiny fragment of the original. Making irreversible decisions without letting some time pass is a big, big mistake.

So often we simply need to wait a bit for everything to get worked out. And the extra time we allow makes it far superior. Like a nice 15 YO Scotch or a Golden Anniversary cake...hell, even a happy hour at the end of a hard work day, enjoy every minute, the process (as best you can) and the outcome.

Now, please remind me of this sentiment around the 20th hour of my painfully long flight to India. I said I love time, I never said I had patience.

I fell so hard

I find it therapeutic to put myself in new situations involving a rather Phoenix-like Ctrl+Alt+Delete. But, between burning it down and building it back up is usually the most lengthy, emotional, and taxing. It can be a wearisome job to live without roots or rules. So, I've become an expert at dangling in limbo and I do it with diligent regularity.

Before

To dangle is in essence to float but also to be in the precarious state of almost falling. Dangling denotes risk, precision, fragility; to be suspended in between two things that may or may not be comfortable, to attach barnacle-like to the fine line. To dangle requires assiduous concentration and painstaking practice. It also requires bravery and resolution, to be have purpose even in the unknown. Dangling defies gravity with a shrug and another try.

After some practice

Three years in Austin have been a good lesson in dangling and in limbo. This is a place and people very hard to define and even more difficult to embrace. Fortunately, if there was ever a place to practice dangling gracefully and with comfort, it is in Texas.

Here's to 3 years and many more happy years to come.

Love you, Texas!

Online Dating Vol. 3 - Furry Eligibles and Staying Up All Night

So you've sifted through the good, bad, and ugly of your local eligibles. You manage to not insult/bore/scare your suitors with email message clumsiness. You may even have had some clever banter going. Now for the terrifying part...you have to meet these people, face to face, and determine once and for all if they are as cute and interesting as you've talked yourself into believing.

And then you do it. And it isn't that bad.

Did I just have fun? Yes, yes I did. And I wasn't even drugged and chopped up into little pieces. Could it be this easy?*

Snark and pessimism are some of my most prized and evolved traits which is why I'm a little disappointed to admit I've walked away from nearly every date happy, even impressed. There are some nifty dudes out there! Sure, I don't sense a romantic connection with everyone. But, I'm incredibly relieved that such high quality men are out there, just waiting to be dated. I haven't been treated this well in years!


Ahhhh, this is what it's all about, folks

Hats off to you, sirs. I applaud your bravery and prowess and I appreciate your kindness, conversation, and cocktails. You have given me a newfound hope that indeed some men are the adorable, loving, furry creatures I've always hoped they could be. (And with the ferocity in which I have sworn off men in the past, this is a truly noteworthy accomplishment.)

It is wrong that I've had such luck casually dating that I kinda want to throw in the towel on an actual long-term relationship?

Nah...I kid. We all know my preference is one special person only. But, ladies and gents, 3 months of online dating is one of the best decisions I've made and I suggest everyone get on out there and date the shit out of your town immediately.

Unless, of course...

*Ok, full disclosure...I did receive a text message informing me that one particular date was off the market on account of his wife discovering his infidelity. Luckily, I hadn't met with this person yet on account of my, um...intuition. Dudes, if you're going to using online dating to cheat, don't leave your phone around for your wife to find (and use to end your electronic relationships herself). C'mon, elementary!

Online Dating Vol. 2 - Response Rates and LL Cool J

Communication, I think we can all agree, is one of the most delicate, beautiful, tragic, complicated, important, moving, poorly done human tasks. It is a wonder we have managed to populate the planet at such an astounding rate when very many in our midst are incapable of exchanging even the most basic information.

Particularly mystifying appears to be communicating with someone who interests you on an online dating site. Now, let's not forget that the whole point of online dating sites is to connect a person with another person and enable them to contact each other easily and efficiently online. In other words, this is a communication tool.

And it even takes a lot of the work out of it by restricting how you'll do it. You get to send a message. That's it. You don't get to use your expensive cologne, enchanting blue eyes, or syrupy voice. That LL Cool J head nod and lip pucker you've been perfecting since 2001...you don't get to use it. The best wingman in the world...nope, not gonna help you here. Peacocks have more to work with so you really need to make it count, ladies and gentlemen!

I worked hard to make my "homepage" welcoming and optimized for conversion, being sure to include little tidbits you may use to craft your message of introduction. If you ignore those tidbits, it confuses me and indicates how attentive you're likely to be should you manage to get my clothes off; two things that ensure my clothes are staying absolutely put.

I work as an email marketer and I know that statistically you have between 1-4 seconds to make an impact when a recipient opens your message. If your shit is beige, you're going into the deleted folder faster than you can say "WTF." If you have the good sense to use the only tool available to you, the gift of human prose, you might just get your shit read. And that, kiddos, is why you're wasting your time and mine on this site to begin with.

I'm sorry to report that 37% of messages I've received have been this: "Hey, how are you?" 

Really?! I just picked my phone all the way up and pushed the screen twice to read that P.O.S. Forget it, dude. No, not even forget it...fuck you for interrupting my life and making a piss-poor example of the male species. Your comrades should kick your ass.

On the other end of the spectrum, I've had a good ~30% of messages exemplify wit, intelligence, a careful read of my information, and genuine interest. Some of them have downright sex appeal! I applaud you, sirs. I respond to about 75% of them.

The remaining 30% is just uncreative crap about how we have a lot in common (we don't) and that they just want to find a soul mate (because it is JUST so easy) and it would be nice to make two sets of footprints in the sand on those long walks on the beach (these people all live in Cedar Park, have bad haircuts, and don't know what ACL stands for which means I'd rather die alone, bless their sad, lonely little hearts).

Only 1 message in about 150 said I was ugly. I kindly asked he remove himself from the gene pool. I also cursed him with the fury of 1,000 suns.

Honestly, I too found it a bit difficult to start electronic conversations with strangers, especially if they didn't offer up any of those nifty little morsels that can be used to make a meaningful connection in a message. It's damn hard to tap into the sweet, clever, panty-dropping poetry of Mr. Cool J or the confident sensuality of Sade. But, as a professional email consultant who advises paying clients on writing engaging, action-oriented messages, if I couldn't pull it off,  I'd really feel like an epic failure and would probably just join a nunnery. I must have managed to not look like an asshole because I have a 95% response rate. If only I could have that kind of success on the actual dates. More to come...

Online Dating for the notbeige Vol 1

The next couple posts will be a series on my personal observations of online dating. My 3 month trial was both exhilarating and educational. And I got taken on a ton of amazing dates so I consider it a wild triumph. I've always loved dating, however unsuccessful I've been at it...the thrill of something new; the funny little games we play with each other; first kisses. It is the comedy and the grief of the human condition at its finest. Also, I was tired of my usual dates and felt compelled to release them to the wild to find more suitable mates.

I've never been very picky when it comes to dating luckily which can been verified by the long list of idiots, jerks, and losers I've allowed to waste my time. So, I considered myself an ideal candidate for online dating. I had low expectations and high hopes, just like everyone else who puts their mugshot online for all the world to criticize. Surely I'd meet someone that rides my same wave.

My initial reaction was one of fascination with how people portray themselves and how I am meant to interpret them. Dating profiles are an amazing wonder to behold. You are trying to connect with a complete stranger based on their synopsis of themselves which is undeniably bias. As the "shopper," I'm obligated to browse sleuth-like, sniffing out biases, omissions, and untruths. One doesn't read an online profile like one reads greeting cards, with an open heart and a genuine curiosity as to what lies inside if the front of the card strikes your fancy. No. Instead, you read them as one would read an invitation from a pharmaceutical company to go on an all-expenses paid cruise to the Seychelles; with suspicion and incertitude.

I'm not buying your "sense of humor" or your "kind heartedness." These things simply cannot be qualified in an online dating resume. In fact, I'm not even buying your photos at this point. So, let's stick to the facts and I'll be the judge if I find your sense of humor notable, ok?

It was also an incredible exercise in how I portray myself. On my profile I tried to omit bullshit like laid back and fun (terms that every single man on Planet Earth looks for in a woman according to Match.com). I mean, who would admit to being an uptight, boring fun-hater anyway? And you know those people are out there whether they admit to it publicly or not.

Instead, I tried to give real-life examples that would allow the reader to decide on their own if they liked the sound of me. I have a Shih Tzu. I stay up late. I went to college. If you are a quiet, conservative person who is fearful of dogs and hates live music, we're not going to get along and I assume you'll come to that conclusion naturally. And if not, I'll just ignore you. This isn't hard.

Also, I had expert input from one of my smartest female friends. The best part was that after her and I completed my profile and answered a few of those bogus personality questions, the site rather presumptuously indicated that I'm a disorganized junkie which I took as a compliment.

One curious observation was that people often try to mask their insecurities and flaws with snarky humor. I did get a laugh out of some of them but I could tell they probably wouldn't make for good conversation in real life and probably have small penises and huge egos. Moving on but thanks for adding a smile to my search, fellas. Clever writing is infinitely sexy...in my very unbiased opinion.

Quality and Quantity

Enjoying SXSW is sort of like moving to a new city. I moved here almost 3 years ago and it has truly taken this long to get the hang of things and feel comfortable. The same principles apply to one of the biggest, most rowdy, most complicated music festivals and conferences in the world.

At first, you hang out with the wrong crowd, the first group that will have you, because you're too scared to brave the crowded, filthy streets of Austin by yourself. You make mistakes like inappropriate footwear, drinking too much, showing up too late to get in, and pledging blind allegiance to your boyfriend's favorite shitty band. Skinny jeans and garbage filled alleys are intimidating at first but then seem almost normal by the end. You learn a few street names and survival skills. You don't regret it but you're not convinced you had as much fun as everyone else claims to have had. Your head aches and you don't really like your friends as much as you thought (and definitely don't trust their taste in music).

Alt J at Stubbs

The next year you feel much more independent. You get your own wristband during pre-sale. Your research is your own, carefully curating a list of bands that you want to see. Convincing people to come with you is easier since they are beginning to trust your judgement and can't deny your commitment to music. You're on a text list and eek out an RSVP existence. You totally call one of the next up and coming bands and you get a high five from someone you really admire musically. Breaking away from the group to see your chosen playlist is nearly tolerable and you see way more bands than you did the year before because you're not hauling drama or naysayers along with you. Not quite part of a group yet, but bolder, braver, more equipped. Your head still aches but you feel happy you came and look forward to the year to come.

The third year you nail it. The perfect balance of toxins, water, and sleep deprivation is mastered. Your playlist is the perfect combo of worn-in must-sees and experimental must-trys. Your pack members are carefully chosen but expendable and scattered evenly across many venues. When an accomplice gives you trouble or has an opposing lineup, you shed them sans guilt like a free t-shirt. You run into people you know everywhere and the shared experience turns acquaintances into friends and friends into lovers. You learn that you'd give up toilet paper before you'd give up your bike. Your head still aches, but you accept it as a natural bi-product of a week's worth of smoke, chemicals, alcohol, loud music, and sheer exhaustion.

No, you don't just accept it...you embrace it with pride and congratulate yourself on being one of the survivors. Three years in and I've finally got both quantity and quality and easily the best SXSW memories to date.
Sunday, March 10
Ume
Cloud Nothings
Portugal. The Man
Azari & III
Zeale

Tuesday, March 12
Elle King
ZZ Ward
Divine Fits
Cirque du Soleil
Whoever was at Lucky Lounge

Wednesday, March 13
Cafe Tacvba
Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Alt J

Thursday, March 14
Capital Cities
The Sheepdogs
Fitz and The Tantrums
City and Colour

Friday, March 15
Clairy Brown & the Bangin' Rackettes
Doldrums
Austra
Toro Y Moi
Alt J
Some cool jazz band at the Camel House
Walk Off the Earth
Lissie
Savages
Youth Lagoon

Saturday, March 16
No
Some awesome gypsy violin band from Ireland
Kids These Days
Field Report
Hacienda
Some other bands at Outlaw Roadshow??
Neon Lion
Drop City Yacht Club
Small Black
Haim
Vampire Weekend