Departures and Arrivals

Reader caution advised: This one might will get seriously maudlin. 

We’re leaving Houston late in August. Not for good I hope, but for now.  We’re headed off to Austin to become part of the Seminary of the Southwest community.  More specifically, KB is going to be studying there in order to become a priest.  I will be studying there on how to be a clergy spouse: how to host a tea, the finer points of playing bridge, gossiping about the organist.  To be fair, I think that last one is a senior level class.  Okay, most of that last bit is not true (but God help me, I do love to gossip).  Seminary is something that has been in the works for KB and for us as a family for a long time, so this is an exciting time.

We’re less excited about the prospect of leaving those dearest to us.  They know who they are, and if you’re reading this and aren’t sure, assume it’s you.  It probably is.  And thanks for reading my drivel.  But I digress.

We are very fortunate to have formed some incredibly deep bonds with our friends and family here in Houston.  Aristotle says that friendship is based on finding another either good, useful, or pleasant.  Our friends are all three.  According to The Philosopher, a genuine friend is someone who loves another person purely for the sake of that other person.  We are fortunate to have friends like these; people that we love simply for who they are.  And who they are, is wonderful. 



Distraction!



I can’t help but think about making our exit from Houston (our fair city), and how that is a microcosm of life.  One of the wisest people I know once told me that how we make our exits in life (from a party, from a job, etc.) are foreshadowing how we will make our final exit.  Will it be kicking and screaming, upsetting those around us?  Will it be slipping silently out the back, hoping to leave unnoticed?  Or will it be a blessing, assuring those that matter most of your love, and how much fun you’ve had with them, before gracefully leaving through the front door?  I’ve tried my best to live by the third option, but this one will be tougher.  This one might involve some kicking and screaming.  I promise to do my best, though, because it is without a doubt the exact right thing for us to do.  It is the wonderful culmination of years of patience and prayer, and it's a very exciting new adventure.  But it is still a change, and it is still difficult.

We’re very fortunate, though, to have some impressively great people waiting for us in Austin.  People we’ve known for years and have always said “Boy, I wish we lived closer to them”.  And now we will.  So we depart with a heavy heart, but arrive into the arms of the best Welcoming Committee Austin could have provided us. 

For that, we wholeheartedly thank you Austin.  Let’s play bridge sometime.  I’ve got some serious dish for you…

Seriously, Austin?

It was like something out of Orwell’s Animal Farm if Animal Farm had been about vehicles.  You know: one wheel good, two wheels bad!  As we drove through what I’m told is called Hyde Park, the unicyclist emerged right in front of us, almost as if materializing out of nothingness.  One minute, an empty street.  Then, suddenly, unicycle.  The rider’s air of smugness and superiority was a thick as the most delicious bacon imaginable.  He continued on his way undaunted by observers, firm in his belief that not only were two- (God forbid, four-) wheeled modes of transport inferior, but that you’d be able to grate cheese of his abs by the time he made it to his adult kickball league.  Fine, artisan cheese.  Granted, I am assuming to know his inner monologue here, but how far off could I be, right?  Dude was on a unicycle.



One of these.



So this is how you welcome us, Austin?  You send out the Ambassador for Unicycles to welcome us to our new home.  Don’t get me wrong.  I have nothing against the unicycle per se, nor do I have anything against Austin, despite my smarminess.  Heck, some of my dearest friends in the world live in Austin, along with friends I have yet to meet (too cheesy?).  I’m not even sure why this irked me as much as it did.  Was it because he seemed to choose this mode of conveyance solely because he wanted to be “unique”?  Was it so he could tell people he rode a unicycle everywhere?  Was he a clown college dropout?  Okay, if it’s the last one he totally gets a reprieve because I can’t juggle either.

An improvement.

I guess it’s the sheer, brazen impracticality of the thing.  No one would choose to ride a unicycle because it is a convenient way to get from Point A to Point B.  One would only choose this to make some sort of statement, but the fact that he was riding through a neighborhood in the middle of the day on a Tuesday suggest he’s not in this for the audience.  I just can’t get my head around the idea of doing something so impractical just to make a point.

I suppose that is untrue, though.  Opinions are formed from ideals, the most impractical part of the human person.  Any statement we make expressing those ideals exposes some part of us that is set deep within, daring others to critique that which we hold dear.  I think the fear of rejection runs pretty deep within a lot of people, so putting yourself on display like that is a huge risk.  It’s a bold thing to step forward and bare your soul.  Or your unicycle.

So here’s to you, Mono-Wheeled Nameless Austinite: keep rolling along.  For God’s sake, wear a helmet.

Keep Austin 170 Miles From Here

Everyone has seen the t-shirts that say “Keep Austin Weird.” The slogan started at the turn of the century as a show of support for local businesses.  Then came the t-shirts and bumper stickers, and like another famous slogan in Texas, this rallying cry became something that Austinites used to show their outside-the-mainstream culture, their “weird” diversity, and their love of all things different.  Lest we forget “Don’t Mess With Texas” used to be about littering.

Since that time, other cities have taken up the slogan’s bones in the format of “Keep (City Name) (Attribute).”  Most notably, there’s “Keep College Station Normal.”  This speaks not only to the ancient rivalry between UT and A&M, but to College Station’s more conservative bent.  When someone from College Station wants to rag on Austin they will, without fail, used the phrase “purple hair” as a pejorative.  “This kind of individualism (that a lot of people do, it seems) isn’t tolerated in College Station!”  This is usually followed by a lot of harrumphing.  But I digress…this is not about College Station.  After all, they gave the world Freebird’s.

There’s a new shirt springing up around Houston.  “Keep Austin 170 Miles Away”.  When my Houston friends and I heard this slogan, we howled with laughter.  Double-over, crying laughter.  Cleansing, therapeutic laughter.  Why?  Because we live in Houston and frankly, we know the score.  Houston is built on a swamp.  The air here is barely breathable.  If you don’t have a car, chance are excellent that you’re not leaving the house.  Our sports teams kind of suck.  A lot.  We’re not considered a college town, even though we have two major universities, three smaller universities, and a downright decent community college system.  As Houstonians, all of this keeps our egos firmly in check.

But damn it, H-town is fantastic.  The food here is amazing, and completely lacks all pretention.  The sheer volume of high-quality culture rivals any of the largest cities in the US.  The Menil is arguably the best and most accessible art museum in the country.  When the National Museum of Ethiopia needed remodeling, they sent Lucy to HMNS.  We get our fair share of touring music, and the Woodlands Pavilion can’t be beat.  The economy of the city is strong, and jobs are available.  Most importantly, I’m convinced that the people of this city are the nicest and friendliest in the state.  We all know that we live in a swamp, but we’re making the best of it.  We’re humble, but deep down we know that Houston is great.  So why “Keep Austin 170 Miles From Here”?  Because while it is undoubtedly a beautiful town with a lot to offer, we just don’t have room for the ego.

A month from now KB and I move to Austin.  God help us.