Austin, Texas, December 2010, Day 3

We awoke today in Austin, but the aim of the day is to visit San Antonio.  Why?  Every year three million people visit the Alamo.  We know it is going to be small.  We know the shops around it are going to be cheesy.  We know that almost none of the original building remains.  Still, I agree with all my compadres that this will be a fun little tourist trap excursion.

Due to a fire at a local mall, we had to go out of our way to get from the highway to the Alamo.  But I got this sweet shot of the street sign, which made it all worth it.

Alamo Candid, December 2010.  My first look at the Alamo.  Because I caught this gentleman unawares, the rules of the Waste state that I must make it an official candid in black and white.

It took a while to find a parking lot, but after that it was smooth sailing.  Except that we had to hop into a Marriott so that everyone could use the restroom.  Outside the restroom the hotel's designer had hung this massive concentric circle mirror on the wall.

You probably need to right-click-open-in-new-window for this, as there are maybe 40-50 different reflections of me around that mirror.  I could have done a little math to make a more accurate estimate, but 40-50 will do.

There it is, the Alamo.  I think the reason that people find this place, this building, compelling is because it is a symbol.  How many buildings are a symbol?  Most tourist trap buildings are, at most, symbols of national pride.  The Alamo is a symbol of war.  A symbol of resistance.  And, at the time of Texas' war for independence, a symbol of General and President of Mexico Santa Anna's cruelty.  Had he ordered the men garrisoned at the Alamo to be captured instead of killed, the people in the Mexican territory that eventually became the State of Texas might not have fought so fiercely for their independence.

For the record, historians refer to this territory as French Texas from 1684-1689, Spanish Texas from 1690-1821, Mexican Texas from 1821-1836, the independent Republic of Texas from 1836-1845, a state and member of the United States of America from 1845-1860, technically a member of the Confederate States of America from 1861-1865, and finally a member of the USA again from 1865 to present.  I am not sure if any other state in our union has such an elaborate pedigree.  Texas is like Estonia in Europe.  (You may have to read an older Waste post from this summer for that to make sense.)

What I find most interesting is that Mexico fought a revolutionary war against Spain to gain independence in 1821, and only 15 years later Texas fought a revolutionary war against Mexico for independence in 1836.  And 25 years after that came the Civil War.  This was definitely an era of revolution.

How could I not take an Alamo shot and give it the sepia treatment?

I need to turn this into an animated gif, so that you can see Steve's head rising between us.  He claimed that he was just trying to see the image on the iPhone, because the forward-facing-camera trick had him dazzled all trip.

Alamo panorama.

Just in case you thought I was taking pictures of a scale model.  

Barbie models the roach cap at the Alamo.

Okay.  We have done the Alamo thing.  I enjoyed it.  I like anything that makes me think about history.

Off to the River Walk for lunch.

A lot of people talk about San Antonio's River Walk.  My apologies to all who enjoy it; it is not for me.  It feels too artificial for me, as it is actually a man-made river bypass channel lined with shops and restaurants.  Again, I am sorry.  It is me.  I am the one who looks at this lovely public space and wants to run the opposite direction.  The bizarre thing is that pedestrian-only public spaces is my thing.  I love nothing more than such spaces in cities around the world.  Maybe it is the boats filled with tourists gliding by with guides on loudspeakers mentioning which restaurants have great margaritas?

Barbie adds another to the collection.

We had to choose our lunch destination carefully.  For one of us had a very unhappy digestive system today.  Our search for a mild-on-the-stomach lunch option took us to an Italian joint, Paesanos.

It was funny.  We ordered an appetizer that was described as parmesan crusted artichoke hearts, and forgetting that we were in the South neither Barbie nor I expected it to be fried.  Oops.

Baked-a egg-a-plant-a.

San Antonio manhole.

After a stroll along the River Walk, we headed back to the car.  To really live out the American Experience, we are going to be hitting the outlet mall between San Antonio and Austin.  Sure, this could be a worst nightmare for me, or it could be an opportunity.  An opportunity to be a part of something wonderful.  Something special.  Post Christmas American Bargain Hunting.

Surprise.  I did not take pictures of the outlet mall at I-35's exit 200.  However, at the games and calendar store, they had one of those kaleidoscopes with a glass ball at the end that allows you to look through it and can see the person in front of you kaleidoscope-ized and such.  What did I do?  I whipped out the iPhone to see if I could get a cool shot or two while the cashier rang up a purchase.

The first shot pleased me.

The second shot pleased me even more and made me think, "Maybe you should buy this little kaleidoscope?"  But by then the cashier was handing me a receipt to sign, and I set the kaleidoscope back into the bin.  Not today and not tomorrow, but someday I am going to buy one of those kaleidoscopes and for the rest of my life beat this concept to death.

Back in Austin, Barbie worked while I napped.  Soon enough, it was dinner time.  The locals demanded that we eat Tex Mex, and they all felt that the place to go would be Chuy's.

I like any restaurant that features the ¡ symbol.  If there is one thing that English should have stolen from Spanish, it is the ¡ that precedes a sentence, as well as the ¿.  It just makes sense to know that a sentence is an exclamation question when you begin that sentence.

You know, the words Tex Mex had been thrown at me so many times this trip that, when I saw it on the wall, I thought that I would throw it at you.

The Queso Compuesto; chili con queso with ground sirloin and guacamole added.   I am not sure that more fat could be squeezed into that little skillet.  The I realize that they could add bacon bits.

Barbie's salad.

I ordered the Classic Tex-Mex enchiladas.  This features the Tex Mex sauce, which is ranchera sauce with chili con carne.  Veni, Vidi, Texi-Mexi.

Interestingly, this dish is quite a bit like the dish at Los Angeles' 80 year old institution El Coyote that is named Enchilada Howard.  Not named after me, but after one of their first customers who asked for an enchilada with chili con carne on top so many times that they added to the menu named after him.  I believe that Sting would call my ordering the equivalent of the Enchilada Howard at an Austin Tex-Mex restaurant a synchronicity.  Because Sting is a boob.

Steve ate so much spicy Tex-Mex that he began to sweat profusely.  Seriously.  No joke.  That is, in fact, a spice induced sweat.  I think that most Texans would be pleased to see a native California boy sweating over their spices.

After dinner we headed over to Josh and Alexis's pad.  We had planned to play a game, but instead we just talked for a while, ate some chocolate, and headed home.

This candle holder is, literally, a cat coven.  I looked at it and said, "What is that, a coven of cats?"  Josh replied, "Yes.  In the store, it had the title Coven of Cats."  I imagine that when the lights are out and the candle is lit, you can see the stone cats start to move, as they are no doubt possessed by Satan.

Due to public demand, I share with you a look at the Waste's new cyber-vehicle.  I replaced the Hackintosh'd Dell netbook last week with this super-lightweight 11.6-inch Macbook Air.  Yes.  I am experiencing intense levels of tech joy every time my fingers touch it.

Time for bed.