Free Tallboys & Cowboys on Horseback: Urban Legends We Tell SXSW Visitors About Old Austin
Let us tell you a tale, youngster, of an Austin ruled by crushed tallboys, pink hair at Barton Creek, and Butthole Surfers songs blasting from FM car radios — long before Lime scooters were invented.
Once upon a time, migas tacos used to cost just $.99 and include a free Lone Star, delivered by a cowboy on horseback. That cowboy? Mayor Ethan Hawke.
See that building that’s plastered in protein powder as part of a supplement company’s brand activation? Matthew McConaughey used to rent an apartment there for $150 a month. He had naked bongo parties every weekend and everyone in Austin was invited, even Alex Jones.
We used to think the most annoying local tech CEO was Michael Dell. Every few years he'd lay off 5% of his employees, and we'd say he was evil, but in hindsight, he didn't take over the government, sire hundreds of babies, promote crypto scams, or hop around like a ketamine-addled jumping bean.
We were so naive, back when we were annoyed by Segway tourists.
“Disrupt” was what your roommate did when they were having sex with their history professor in the next room while you tried to watch Amelie on your CRT TV while chatting on AOL Messenger.
There was a legendary Tex-Mex place on South Congress where people like Gov. Ann Richards would hang out and talk politics. They tore it down to build a JW Marriott where, nowadays, the CEO of a psilocybin yurt retreat hangs out and talks brand optimization.
Richard Linklater used to loiter in front of the Paramount Theatre and hand out free tickets to his movie screenings. So did Robert Rodriguez and Terrence Malick. Sometimes they’d have to beg people to go, resorting to throwing in free popcorn and Jo's Coffee coupons.
Back then we’d pull up to a place and park. For free! You didn't need a QR code or an app or a Bitcoin wallet, and on the rare occasions when you had to pay, you rolled up to the curb with a pocket full of nickels and fed that meter like a hungry metal goblin till it got to 85 cents. You were covered for the whole day, long enough to get day drunk (and sober again)!
Back then, a marketing company thought it would be a good idea to make homeless people into WiFI hotspots, Austinites got upset and the company immediately backtracked. If it happened today, the ruthless capitalist behind the stunt would just Uber over to Joe Rogan's podcast studio and get his audience to shout down the woke critics.
Ten years ago, people would stop and stare at a Tesla in admiration, instead of flipping it off and throwing empty cans of Eastciders Blood Orange.
When SXSW started, visitors had three hotels to choose from. One of them was Willie’s tour bus, one was a South Congress motel where you might wake up next to a dead body, and the other was your buddy Rudolfo's couch from Rooms To Go, which you’d share with a dirty old chihuahua. But enjoy your Fairmont suite, tough guy.
Years ago, when a SXSW visitor would smile and say, “I think I want to move here,” we wouldn’t gag and say, “Try surviving August, dumbass.” We’d introduce them to our realtor and put together a Texas salsas gift basket.
One time, Doritos built a 60-foot-tall vending machine for Snoop Dogg (no, this isn't a Mad Lib), and Austinites were disgusted by the blatant display of commercialism. Now, they complain that Doritos brand experiences aren't what they used to be and pine for the days when PepsiCo was keeping it real.
The music scene at SXSW is so corporate now.
We used to go to secret shows in downtown alleys and see bands before everyone else knew who they were. That’s how Coldplay got started: by the 7-Eleven dumpster.
Back in the day, we had actual humans driving taxis, not robots. One of those flesh and blood drivers was named Tito, and he invited us to his house for dinner and some of the vodka he was distilling in his backyard. Yep. That Tito.
