Texas BBQ is serious business. People get really heated when discussing who (or where) has the best BBQ. But this isn't just a Texas phenomenon. I've watched plenty of BBQ shows on cable television with people all over the United States talking trash about how their region's BBQ is better than every other region's BBQ. People in Memphis say that their BBQ is the best, people in Kansas City say that their BBQ is the best, people in the Carolinas say that their BBQ is the best, and obviously people in Texas are saying the exact same thing.These people feel like their BBQ is the best because it's prepared differently than other region's BBQ. So what everybody is saying is that they think their BBQ is better because it's different. But different doesn't mean better, does it? A baby born in Norway is obviously different than a baby born in the Bahamas. But does that mean either baby is better? Is unwavering regional BBQ pride the same thing as racism? I'm not smart enough to answer that question, but I do like BBQ. So I ate some this week.
There are lots of awesome BBQ restaurants in the general vicinity of Austin. My favorite spot is the Luling City Market in Luling, Texas which is about 45 minutes south (and slightly east) of Austin. I make no claims that it's the best BBQ. I just like it because my friend Jason used to live in Luling and I'd eat here after skating his mini ramp when we were in high school. Nostalgia.
To get your food you walk through the restaurant to a smoke-filled room in the back where the BBQ pits are making animals delicious.
Everything is coated with a smokey black residue. I always think of Willy Wonka when I come here because it seems like you could just hang out and lick the walls and be stoked.
I always get kind of nervous when it's my turn to order. I feel like I'm going to order wrong and the dudes behind the counter are going to think I'm a BBQ poser from the city. Which I guess is fairly accurate.
Smoke that oak. (I think it's oak.)
Here's a cheat sheet for people who can't do multiplication. (Texas is ranked #46 in average math SAT scores.)
There's no plates at the City Market. They put the meat on wax paper and then wrap it in butcher paper. Plates are for Yankees, I guess.
After we ate I took a trip to the restroom to pee, wash my hands, and check out the local graffiti scene. 57 Chevy Red is a graffiti force to be reckoned with around these parts.
VD is nothing to clap about. That's pretty funny.
And apparently Macdaddy Number 1 is a fag. Noted.
After BBQ I took a leisurely drive through Luling and the surrounding countryside on the way to my folk's house in Seguin, Texas. Old stuff is kind of neat. It makes you think about people who are probably dead now.
I think that show Friday Night Lights has given me a false sense of nostalgia for Texas high school football. I grew up in a little town where football was king and I hated it. But my brain thinks that it's cool now for some reason. Maybe now I'm just old enough to not get beaten up by high school jocks for being a skateboarder. Probably not though. I'm still super weak.
High Schools and prisons look pretty similar.
On the way to my folk's house I stopped in a little town named Kingsbury. Population: 816.
Always reminded me of a movie set.
I've never wanted to join a gang. Until now.
My parents have some pretty dated stuff stuck on the fridge in their house. My stepbrother and I apparently wanted to be gymnasts in the 80s.
Some of my "art" from when I was probably about 11 or 12.
This dude is my favorite.
H-Street t-shirt. Nice touch.
Just for comparison, here's a print I made this week. Actually it isn't for comparison. I was just trying to figure out a way to promote my art in this post. So here it is. Pretty stealthy, huh?
This is a movie about a dancer girl with short hair. She has a crappy job but she dreams of someday being a professional dancer and not having to work a crappy job. Her dance instructor tries to stick his tongue in her mouth when they're dancing together one time and she is totally not down with that. So she quits her dance class.
Luckily, around this same time she meets two street dancers named Ozone and Turbo and they reluctantly allow her to study their crazy breakdancing ways. Ozone has a really gross mustache and he keeps looking at the dancer girl with short hair in a way that makes you think that he wants to stick his tongue in her mouth, too. But he never tries because he lacks confidence.
Also, apparently Turbo is a witch or a wizard or something like that because he makes a broom levitate while he's dancing one night. Which is pretty awesome. Breakdancing wizards are tight.
Let's see, what else happens... well when you finish the movie you realize that the film isn't actually about breakdancing. It's about class war. And just like in real life, the poor people win in the end and all of the rich people realize that they were wrong and narrow minded. So that's pretty awesome. Life's totally fair.
Next week: maybe something about pizza? And a review of The Wild Life.