Danny moved his family in ‘75 and “figured out that Austin was exactly where I was meant to be.” Those who lived here pre-bust (as in oil, not tech) might remember the opening of his Texicalli Grill in an abandoned Burger Chef on South Lamar, which later became an institution of sandwiches and music memorabilia in an abandoned Taco Bell on Oltorf (next to Guero’s, now the present-day Curra’s). Danny sold the restaurant in 2006, and it closed the following year.

If you judge a man on the basis of his nicknames, then Danny Roy Young rose higher than most. The “Lord of the Rub board” denotes his enthusiasm for the washboard. He frequently played his custom apparatus around town, most regularly with The Cornell Hurd Band. His title as “Mayor of South Austin” was bequeathed by the Austin Chronicle after he successfully led the opposition to widening South Lamar.

While the designation was unofficial, Danny upheld the title with charm and sincerity that is lacking from most elected offices. Until yesterday’s tragic passing pre-emptively limited his term, the Mayor of South Austin often cruised his districts in a signature ‘54 Chevy wagon motorcade, idling in the street to spin yarns with constituents new and old. It’s hard to imagine anyone else who could fill his office.

Michael Corcoran has a nice eulogy for Danny here.

Even more shocking is the reason: Toni Price will soon be leaving Austin. It appears that, after much soul searching, Toni will be packing up and heading west to San Diego. This bombshell was dropped by someone from the Continental rather than the lady herself, but its well after April 1st and I don’t think they were joking.

After two decades and innumerable performances, Toni has become synonymous with Austin’s music scene. She may not have attained the national recognition of other local singers, but Austin has benefited amply from her desire to eschew fame in favor of staying close to home. Toni’s departure is going to leave a sizable gap in the town’s bohemian charm, the musical equivalent to tearing down Las Manitas. But hey, at least the tourists will have lots of nice hotel rooms.

There’s no mention of this yet on Toni’s website or the Continental Club’s newsletter. Maybe it won’t happen. But if it does, I hope Toni brings as much happiness to Southern California as she has to Austin, and that it comes back to her 10 fold.

In the meantime, there are 7 Tuesdays left to be filled with Hippie Hour power. If anyone has the inside line on resurrection, cloning, or time travel, NOW would definitely be a good time to bring Champ back.

But times have changed. Just like the city that has grown up around him, Leslie appears ready to forsake his funky past and move on to more commercial goals. In a Monday press release, he explains the need to hang up the banana hammock, and perhaps even leave Austin altogether.

In the 90’s, it was all about being myself. The fact that cross-dressing allowed me to grope chicks and scam drinks was a bonus, but it was all in the name of self actualization n’ shit. Then the money started rolling in, and now it’s just a job. Frat boys, bachelorette parties, queer bubbas … It’s like my hairy ass-cheeks don’t even belong to me anymore.

Leslie tried to turn the corner towards respectability by running for mayor, but found politics to be harsher than any APD shake-down. Competition from Jennifer Gale and a burgeoning hipster electorate downgraded Leslie from Freak Vote to ironic diversion. After failing to mount a campaign in 2006, Leslie lamented “Either Austin’s getting smarter, or I’ve jumped the shark. Either way, it’s time to go.”

Buoyed by sales of dress-up magnets and a shrewd investment portfolio (including silent partnerships in The Belmont restaurant and Spring condo development), Leslie will self-finance the next stage of his career. His first project will be a reality series documenting his pantless exploits criss-crossing the country with Verne Troyer in a sidecar motorcycle. Various tie-in projects are still being negotiated, and a duet album with Roberta Flack is rumored to start recording once Leslie has completed vocal rehabilitation.

With Leslie out of the picture, the City Council is scrambling to recruit a replacement icon for Austin’s weirdness. “Right now we can barely afford to hand out kazoos to the homeless,” observed Mayor Wynn. “For Austin to compete in the global weirdo marketplace, we’re going to need a serious freak, and that takes serious money.”

Neighborhood groups have called for a new “Weirdness Tax” to help support the effort. Under this proposal, a $1,000 fee would be assessed on the purchase of any “luxury” downtown condo, which currently covers 97% of all units in development. Several alternative revenue proposals are circulating City Hall, including an admission charge for Eeyore’s Birthday Party, meter installation on area disc golf nets, and tolls on all major greenbelts. A spokesperson from Betty Dunkerley’s office defended the fee proposals as sound fiscal policy; “Those who benefit from the weirdness should be prepared to pay for the weirdness.”

So Austin will say goodbye to Leslie, and the little piece of our soul that he takes with him. But in the spirit of progress and growth, he will inevitably be replaced with something newer, more expensive, and preferably coated with a nice brushed aluminum finish.

This quarter’s Four Hands sale begins today and runs through Sunday, with hours between 10am and 3pm. Recent sales have taken place at the company’s Woodward headquarters, but the sale’s popularity has apparently outgrown that space. They are now advertising this sale will take place at their old location on 5639 Airport (near 290).

I’ve never been to this sale, but have coveted friend’s acquisitions and envied their prices too long to miss this one. The inventory changes from sale to sale, but you can generally expect an eclectic mix of hip furnishings, from contemporary tables and chairs to vintage chests. You can also expect sizable crowds, as each sale brings legions of new fans into Four Hands’ irresistable clutches.

Update (2:05 3/2/06): My wife just returned from the Four Hands sale with tales of great prices and massive crowds. By noon, it seems that many of the tables and chairs were already spoken for, and the sales rep said they weren’t re-stocking for Saturday or Sunday. Better luck next quarter, perhaps.

I ate at Ararat several times in the 90’s, mostly for the fun of buying beer across the street, sitting on my ass to eat, and always having a really good time. Whether that’s an indictment of their food or my priorities is beside the point: eating at Ararat is definitely an event.

In the ensuing years, Ararat has developed a reputation for sketchy service, occasionally punctuated by vindictive rudeness. Perhaps the gruff shtick that represents “authenticity” in places like Dry Creek Saloon or GM Steakhouse becomes less appealing when your patrons can’t find parking and wait for non-existent tables. Some purists may not care for Ararat’s mish-mash of Mid-Eastern cuisines, but my recent visit tasted every bit as good as what I remember eating in Istanbul, just a touch whiter.

If you haven’t yet sampled Ararat, try it before March 29th. Reservations are always a good idea, but the best way to beat the crowds or service showdowns is to get there at open. Early birds can pick their table, maybe even do their own belly dancing. It’ll be easy and fast, but then you’ll miss out on the cramped energy that is half the charm.

Ararat
111 E North Loop Blvd
419.1692

It all came to a close this deceptively chilly morning. Several hundred Austinites gathered around 3rd and Guadalupe to see the official button pushing and subsequent choreographed destruction. The crowd was giddy with anticipation, even cheering the towing services and motorcycle cops. The pre-show entertainment continued with an incoherent citizen rant and police showdown, providing a few sparks prior to the big bang.

The show went down around 7:30am, with local demolition duffer Michael McGill granted the opportunity to push the button (actually, the ceremonial device looked more like one of the old time push-boxes Wile E. Coyote might have ordered from ACME). An initial rush of explosions seemed to have little impact before a second wave sent the structure falling in on itself. Surprisingly, huge chunks of the building remained standing, making me wonder if we’ll all be back next weekend to watch Ramon and Sons finish the job.

I guess Intel is more resilient than we thought.

Update (11:20am 2.25.07): Despite the awkward remnants left jutting three stories high, a spokesperson claims the Intel Implosion went as planned. Cue Pee-Wee Herman …

You may remember the lot as the site of a small limestone building perched on an improbably huge lot overlooking the Barton Creek Greenbelt. For several years, the site had been a gallery for artist Robert Ellis Patterson. With his untimely passing in 2004, the sign out front pitched real estate for a few years, then went blank. I had often dreamed of buying the land to raise llamas, maybe run a philosophy shop / lemonade stand out front, but those dreams went down with the bulldozers last week.

The project’s name is indicative that the 69 units will have clear line-of-sight to the office and residential buildings built up to the opposite edge of the Greenbelt. Prices are quoted in the usual range from merely expensive ($260k / 760 sqft.) to broadly unaffordable ($850k / 2,280 sqft.). According to the Statesman, the condos will feature a meditation garden and cabanas to take advantage of the scenic location. No mention of llamas.

The View is also seeking one-ness with its location through the U.S. Building Council’s LEED certification program. If realized, this would put Madison Partners on a different, and greener, path than many of their developer breathren. Other popular components currently lacking from this development are height (4 stories), variance requests (no up-zoning), or mixed-use entitlements (no street-level retail). And the name, despite its unfortunate association with daytime TV, is simple and descriptive rather than ostentatious and embarrassing. S. Lamar could do a lot worse.

The mural is the creation of local artist Aaron Sacco, who also worked as an animator on Richard Linklater’s roto-dystopian film, A Scanner Darkly. How you can create such likenesses on brick is beyond me, but I guess that’s why Aaron paints and I go clickety-click on a computer (sometimes). You can discover the mural’s history and track Aaron’s progress at his Austin Artist blog, which also features some of his other freelance work.

There are 30 musicians faithfully portrayed at 1412 S. Lamar. Those of you with access to a time machine can retrogressively win a free t-shirt by naming them all, but everyone else can play along in person to the accompaniment of dulcet rumblings from the neighboring South Austin Speed Shop.

I love seeing a new mural along S. Lamar to complement Martinez Brothers Taxidermy. This has me motivated to check out other popular Austin murals more closely than the usual drive-by appreciation. The “Welcome to Austin” mural on S. 1st is a given, but what are some of your favorites?

You’d be forgiven for not knowing that People even had an Austin bureau, since apparently it contains all of two people. I’m pretty sure the Chamber of Commerce won’t be losing much sleep over that one.

But fans of local celebs might. Without People in town, who could possibly cover the boyish shenanigans of BFF’s Matthew McConaughey and Lance Armstrong, or the marital dealings of mold victim-cum-restauranteur Sandra Bullock? Oh right, just about anyone. There really isn’t any need for a “professional” magazine to dredge for celebrity gossip, since such reporting requires neither research skills nor journalistic integrity.

Kinda like blogging.