I recently wrote a post where I took Patrick Beach from the Austin American Statesman to task for writing that our "Keep Austin Weird" slogan is a "a wee bit desperate, a bleat whose three words translate as, "Please keep Austin weird, by which we mean patronizing indigenous businesses established by old hippies." He also pondered the near-future day when Austin will "simply wake up one morning and the lava lamp won't work anymore."
I thought my blog defended well enough my belief that as a city, we still have an abiding love for all forms of weirdness.
And in the corresponding podcast episode, I talked about what makes up the core of our populace. In that episode, I said that I believe that in Austin, even in the dark night of our soul, even if the lava lamp goes out, our weirdness will endure because it IS an inherent part of our souls.
In Texas, Austin is like the land of Misfit Toys. It's where the socially inept geek from Lubbock moves to and meets the green-haired, black-finger-nailed goth girl poet who got out of Beaumont as fast as she could. These two, meet, marry and breed little weirdos who begat more weirdos who...well, you'll just have to listen to the podcast to see that our hope as a culture lies in the little green-haired sons and daughters (even if their hair is only metaphorically green.)
My original post spurred on follow up posts from some folks who have a opposing viewpoints which I thought fit to share.
Urban Grounds writes:
"My main gripe with the 'Keep Austin Weird' mentality is that Weird is really just slang for Liberal and/or Hippie. As Austin becomes bigger-and-bigger and more-and-more prosperous, Austin is becoming less-and-less Liberal...err...I mean Weird."
The connection between prosperity and conservatism is dubious, as there are vast stretches of dirt-poor, die-hard conservatives all throughout the South. But if liberals under the bed is your boogey man, I suppose it's possible to see them in just about everything you disagree with. Still, Urban Grounds' post is worth a read. He cherishes the same things about Austin that me and my ilk like, and the fact that both camps can peacifully co-exist here and want to preserve those things, is well, wonderfully weird.
"Austin's not weird. Not any more, if we ever were," writes Swanky Conservative in response to Urban Grounds, and it's because "the suburbs here look like suburbs anywhere else." Swanky bought "double the house for the dollar by buying in unincorporated Williamson County, a stone's throw from Austin's city limits."
Ah, Williamson County. Explains much, that does.
So I'm curious, Austin, what are we? Is our lava lamp dimming?
In this article in Washington Monthly, "The Rise of the Creative Class: Why cities without gays and rock bands are losing the economic development race," Richard Florida writes about a guy from Austin:
"This young man and his lifestyle proclivities represent a profound new force in the economy and life of America. He is a member of what I call the creative class: a fast-growing, highly educated, and well-paid segment of the workforce on whose efforts corporate profits and economic growth increasingly depend. Members of the creative class do a wide variety of work in a wide variety of industries---from technology to entertainment, journalism to finance, high-end manufacturing to the arts. They do not consciously think of themselves as a class. Yet they share a common ethos that values creativity, individuality, difference, and merit."
By Florida's standards, Austin ranks No. 2, in his large city creativity rankings. I don't believe this article was written with Williamson County in mind, but consider yourselves warned. The day Dell moves to Bangalore, ya'll can come stay with us when you grow weary of dodging the tumbleweeds.
Back to the topic, if the "Keep it Weird" slogan puts so many people off, could we settle for "Keep on Creatin' Stuff?"
More from Mr. Florida:
"Stuck in old paradigms of economic development, cities like Buffalo, New Orleans, and Louisville struggled in the 1980s and 1990s to become the next "Silicon Somewhere" by building generic high-tech office parks or subsidizing professional sports teams. Yet they lost members of the creative class, and their economic dynamism, to places like Austin, Boston, Washington, D.C. and Seattle---places more tolerant, diverse, and open to creativity."
Diversity is a big deal to Florida and in my mind that is the true meaning behind our slogan. Keep it weird is a request to keep Austin diverse. Florida says,
"Talented people seek an environment open to differences. Many highly creative people, regardless of ethnic background or sexual orientation, grew up feeling like outsiders, different in some way from most of their schoolmates. When they are sizing up a new company and community, acceptance of diversity and of gays in particular is a sign that reads "non-standard people welcome here."
"The creative class people I study use the word "diversity" a lot, but not to press any political hot buttons. Diversity is simply something they value in all its manifestations. This is spoken of so often, and so matter-of-factly, that I take it to be a fundamental marker of creative class values. Creative-minded people enjoy a mix of influences. They want to hear different kinds of music and try different kinds of food. They want to meet and socialize with people unlike themselves, trade views and spar over issues."
So how about this phrase: "Keep Austin diverse while creatin' stuff?" Both Worlds suggests the slogan, "Keep Austin Eclectic," and I could live with that.
Austin, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter. Post your comments here on the blog, or send us an email. If you truly feel passionate about this issue, then let's record an episode for The Armadillo Podcast.
--Steven Phenix
PS--Galia, when and if I convince you move here, please don't live in Williamson County.
In the previous episode Lisa told us about how renovating an old place like the Driskill Hotel can often stir up ghosts. Today News 8 reported that the Bitter End, a popular downtown bar that will soon be incorporated into a luxury hotel. Connected to the Bitter End is a lounge called The B Side and Lisa says that during a previous renovation of The B Side there were many ghost sightings here including a mysterious figure of a man who kept darting around a corner, disappearing candles and a fire. 
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