When I picture the "American Dream", I don't see a house, I see a neighborhood

Photo: by the author in San Marcos, TX - December, 2009

I've often thought that I would prefer not to spend my whole life living in one place, or even one region. Well, I spent a summer in Los Angeles once, so I guess that is guaranteed never to be the case. However, I am beginning to see the emergence of a possibility that I might reside in the same region for the rest of my life, but that it might even be a palatable option considering the abundant positives of the area in which I currently live. This scenario could also include leaving for a couple of years and returning thereafter.

There are significant conditions on that previous statement. Certain places reflect who I am and what I like in a place far more than most others. South Austin, especially closer into the center of the city, and San Marcos are on the short list of areas where I think I'd be content to base the rest of my residential life. I certainly have my misgivings about the State of Texas as a whole, although I have far fewer of them when it comes to Central Texas and the Hill Country (and sometimes the familiarity of Central Texas compels me to daydream of living somewhere else). But, within any region, it's important to me that I live in a neighborhood who's layout and culture reflect the ideas that I consider important in an urban-social structure.

This distinction is important not just to myself, but to a growing number of people in my generation (follow the title link for more on this). For decades, the "American Dream" has been about things such as owning a house and a car for every driving member of the family...and that house is out in the suburbs, away from the noise and trouble of the big city where the public schools are good and violent crime is ostensibly low. Or, even, it's out in the county on a patch of land at the end of a road where you're not forced to interact with people outside of work, home, or the social gatherings of one's choosing. Previously, even rural dwellers would have these uncontrolled interactions when they took trips into town to shop, but the growth of information technology has allowed even most shopping to be done online, removing even more uninitiated social interactions.

But, that's not what I want. I may not be the most outgoing person around people who aren't already my friends, but there is a significant difference in my temperament when I'm in a place where there are lots of people and activity within distances that don't require car travel, than I am when I'm isolated from such community in a suburban or rural environment (both are the same to me as both require extensive car travel just to perform basic consumer and social functions). While many take comfort (whether they like to admit it or not) in living in a place that is dominated by their own ethnicity, I find myself wanting to be in places that to me "look like America", which means they are diverse and you might, God forbid, hear languages other than English spoken while walking down the street. Places where upper-middle class and working class people live in the same neighborhoods, shop at the same grocery stores, pass each other on the same sidewalks. Such places afford people a better quality of life than they'd enjoy in that economic status in a suburban or rural area. In the case of wealthier people, I feel it prevents the warped empathy-destroying perspective that is formed when they and their children grow up in homogeneous suburban fortresses. In the case of the working-class, they feel more included in their community, they are far less likely to be victims of violent crime than in segregated ghettos and they are able to more cheaply and effectively take advantage of services because they are able to reach more of them (through mass transit, cycling or walking) without the expensive suburban-rural necessity of car ownership. For wealthier individuals, the ability to do things without having to use the car every time has unquestioned benifits in terms of overall health, weight and potentially psychologically as well. I know that livable, walkable neighborhoods in the middle of towns and cities may not be for everyone, or may not be best enjoyed by everyone, but I think far more people would enjoy them than is realized by the economic and regulatory forces that have pushed suburbanization and exurbanization (the area beyond the suburbs from which people still largely commute to work in a city) would like us to believe.

I didn't realize the kind of place I most thrive in until I actually got to live in one after enrolling at Texas State University-San Marcos. I remember the thrill of realizing I could actually walk to things that were interesting...and later on realized the benefits of living in a neighborhood where getting around on foot or by bicycle was not only an option, but it was actually preferable and more enjoyable than driving. When I returned to San Marcos for graduate school, I didn't consider any apartment that was not within walking distance of campus, the town square and a supermarket (which actually leaves a lot of options still in place in that town). Now, it's important for me to mention here that I enjoy driving, probably more than someone with my views and inclinations should. It's a lot of fun to me, but being forced to drive makes the whole undertaking a lot less enjoyable to me. We talk a lot about "freedom" in the United States, but how much freedom can we really have when we are fully reliant on expensive and dangerous (not to mention environmentally taxing) machines in order to go about our daily lives. People should always have the option to drive, I'd be a hypocrite to suggest otherwise, but we should also have the freedom to be free of car-dependence.

If you have never considered that before, spend some time thinking about it. Then, take a drive (on second thought, make it a bike trip or a good long walk) around the 78704 (near-south Austin) or 78666 (San Marcos) zip codes and consider the community and social resources that we've collectively lost during the rush to fall in love with the suburbs.

- Jordan

On the Transient Nature of Localism in Austin, Texas

I like fish tacos. There is, you could say, a dearth of fish taco selection in our landlocked region. Therefore the rumored opening of a second Wahoo’s Fish Taco location in Austin is welcome news to me, even as local business lover that prefers non-chain establishments whenever possible. We do not exactly have a plethora of local establishments (that I know of) that specialize in making good fish tacos. However, something about the location of the proposed Wahoo’s troubles me, because it further confirms a suspicion that I have that one of Austin’s best local business corridors might be in the first stages of going the way of The Drag.

A little background on this statement: “The Drag”, a.k.a. the row of storefronts along Guadalupe Street directly across from the University of Texas campus, was once regarded as a key hub for the weird/funky/interesting/whatever you want to call it spirit that has long defined the Capital of Texas. The national businesses that located there, such as a well-known Tower Records location, did their best to fit into that motif. As property values around the (sometimes) largest university in the United States began to skyrocket during the last two economic booms in Austin, local shops increasingly found it difficult to afford the sky-high commercial rents in the area and either closed up shop or moved to other neighborhoods. These have largely been replaced by large national chain businesses (such as Chipotle, Mellow Mushroom, Urban Outfitters and others) that were the only tenants who could afford what became one of the most expensive locations in Austin. The change has been so abrupt that, from my recollection, only a few businesses on the drag were there just seven years ago: Hole in the Wall, a 7-11 and the Church of Scientology, and I feel like I’m padding stats by including the latter. Even Tower Records (replaced by Follett’s Intellectual Property, which has since vacated the space) and a Barnes and Noble (next to a 50,000 student campus no less) were forced out.

I’ve seen several iconic businesses close, places such as Little City Coffeehouse and Einstein’s Arcade (sorry, Justin) a favorite of my brothers', local teens and college students, that have vacated what was once a key stretch of Austin business culture. I’ve seen several other national chains (Pete’s Coffee, Baja Fresh) try and fail on the drag. Essentially, the Drag became a victim of Austin’s success and has lots its soul because of it. I can remember the early stages of the decline, and I am starting to (reluctantly) notice the first signs of a similar trend that could lead to an eventually similar loss of soul on a famous stretch of one of Austin’s best streets: South Congress.

Just three or so years ago, it seemed unthinkable that South Congress, between Live Oak and the Texas School for the Deaf campus, could be anything but a haven for the local small business ingenuity and entrepreneurialism that has made the city more than just another urban wasteland of sameness. That naiveté (I'm using this pretentious word on purpose, to set the mood) was shattered for me when I saw the appearance of an American Apparel store in the middle of the local stretch, right between the Continental Club and Homeslice Pizza (as seen in "Death Proof"). Now, I really don’t have that much against American Apparel. They’re anti-sweatshop (a plus), their advertisements can be sketchy/exploitative (a minus) and they serve as a go-to option for Hipsters in need of new monochromatic v-necks (no opinion). But, seeing it open in that particular location served to me as a harbinger that South Congress (or, “SoCo”, as the real estate community likes to call it…please don’t refer to it as that if you’re standing next to me, or I might involuntarily vomit a little on your shoes. Its bad enough that I’ve had to add it to dictionary on my computer) might be at its peak as a key vein of visible Austin culture. American Apparel stores may be kind of weird, but they’re weird less in the funky Austin way and more in the post-modern creepy way. And, being based in Downtown L.A., with stores all over the world, it’s certainly not a “local business”. And, I suspect, it tipped the balance of local vs. national on the street less in the favor of the locals.

The new Wahoo’s (the only current location in Austin is downtown on Rio Grande between 5th and 6th) is, in symbolic fashion, going in place of Texas French Bread, which is pulling out of its South Congress location (presumably, it’s remaining location at 29th and Rio Grande will remain open). I noticed the symbolism in this particular secession, but realistically, any business that it would replace on this stretch of South Congress would be a local one. Again, outside of American Apparel, there isn’t another non-Austin chain business that I can think of on the one-mile stretch between 7-11 and the Starbucks across from the School for the Deaf. Apparently, that number is going up, and presumably, South Congress may look a lot different in a few years as real-estate appreciation and the penetration of chain businesses likely has transformative effects.

If you were to have a betting pool on the next non-local business to move onto South Congress, my money would be on the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf. The Coffee Bean, like Wahoo’s and American Apparel, happens to be a national/international chain that is based out of Southern California. The first Coffee Bean in Austin opened on South Lamar near Riverside in 2009, and has been followed quickly by locations at 38th and Lamar as well as 41st and Red River. While none of these location is a specifically local business haven, the 41st location is in a big box strip mall home to HEB, Old Navy and Sears, they’re all in central parts of the city that generally have a strong local business culture (and seemingly fewer Starbucks than is normal for an urban area). As with all parts of Central Austin, they’re also neighborhoods that have seen substantial increases in real estate values. Given that Jo’s is the only coffee shop on the stretch of South Congress in question, I wouldn’t be surprised to see a Coffee Bean there in the near future. Seemingly, it’s smart for California chains to begin expanding in areas that are not as economically stagnated as their state is as a whole, and it’s a particularly deft move to accentuate that expansion in places such as Austin that have seen considerable in-migration from California.

Of course, I could be wrong about all of this. South Congress may still be a very local area in 20 years. But, given what has happened in Austin over the past 20 years, I doubt that will be the case. It’s a shame in some ways, but optimistically speaking, the local spirit will remain, it’ll just geographically shift to areas of the city that can still afford to have one. It may be harder to “Keep Austin Weird” (a.k.a. “local”) with all of the internal and external economic pressures that are influencing the city, but I am hopeful that Austin’s independent spirit, one that makes it an excellent place to bring local ideas to life, will survive and will live on in the city wherever it can. And as an avid supporter of tacos of all kinds, now is a great time to open a fish taco stand or food cart somewhere before Wahoo’s corners the market.