How’s your summer? Where’d you go?
To quote Jim Morrison and the Doors, “Summer’s Almost Gone.” Grieve, yo, because Mars temperatures be damned! Summers in Central Texas are precious. Frightening how the year melts away.
First, it’s January. Kinda cold, but it thaws quick in February, and suddenly it’s March. South by Southwest. First domino. Followed in quick succession by Old Settler’s Music Festival, Austin Psych Fest, Pachanga, Chaos in Tejas, and all the spring tours in between.
Now it’s summer: School’s out! Roadshows slow to a trickle since most acts are then in the summer music fest cycle, a precious window here in Austin. Like Free Week, local bands reign supreme, whether at KGSR’s Blues on the Green, the Bullock Texas State History Museum’s free outdoor series, and yes, the Chronicle’s Hot Sauce Festival, now 23.
Face it, come September, everything blurs. You prep for the Austin City Limits Music Festival, then plunge into not one but two weekends. You limp for a week afterward, then lands Halloween and the Housecore Horror Film & Heavy Metal Festival. Another few days off, then Fun Fun Fun Fest. Everyone stays home for Thanksgiving, after which December proves tempus fugit.
So ... one last gasp of summer, or if you will, the start of the fall season since most not-yet-rat-racers are already back in school. At Austin’s own Copacabana – Fiesta Gardens – feast on enough free hot sauce and chips to cede Texas back to Mexico. Cerveza? Whaddaya think the locals are drinking, beginning with the bent bluegrass of Sour Bridges (11am-noon), the Gary-Clark-Jr.-who? blues of the Peterson Brothers (12:15-1:15), quicksilver pop by the Preservation (1:40-2:40), cumbia rockeros Money Chicha (3-4), and righteous rockabilly courtesy of Rosie Flores & the Rivetors (4:20-5:20).
Free, with three “healthy,” nonperishable food donations for the Capital Area Food Back, which took home 16,000 pounds (eight tons) last year. Like the song goes:
“You load sixteen tons, what do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt. Saint Peter don’t you call me ‘cause I can’t go. I owe my soul to the company store.”
Summer means you’re not due back at the store quite yet.– Raoul Hernandez