A Sight to See: The Kings of Leon (with Band of Horses) live at the Frank Erwin Center, Austin, Texas, Tuesday, April 12, 2011

“Once the show gets started, it’s bound to be a sight to see.”

-- Caleb Followill, Kings of Leon, from Pyro on the Come Around Sundown album

Not our average Tuesday yesterday, that’s for sure. I even had a costume change, like all good (wannabe) celebrities.

After a rather routine day at the office, Jeanette and I dropped the kids off at the Treetops Learning Center and headed for the Highball club for Austin Voices for Education and Youth’s annual fundraiser, the “Shout Out Awards.” It was great to see Jeanette in her professional milieu. I’m proud to be associated with such a capable, accomplished person who has done so much for kids and their families in two different states.

Plus, she’s so darn sexy!

Then came the costume change – from respectful, preppy jacket and tie to ripped jeans, novelty t-shirt, and hiker sneaks for the Kings of Leon at the Frank Erwin Center. We made our way to the “Will Call” window where our tickets were waiting for us. I purchased them through a friend who works with the band, so they were good seats, as expected. In fact, they were the best seats I’ve ever had for a show of that magnitude. As I said to Jeanette, “These seats have ruined me for all future concerts.”

I’m sentimental at heart, in case you hadn’t noticed already, and being at this show brought me back to my college days. Our seats were the ones I used to look over at, as I was panting and sweating from being crushed on the General Admission floor by other young rock grunts, and wonder how those older people scored such sweet seats.

From this new vantage point I could look down into the pit, where the 20-somethings reveled, singing every word and pumping their arms in that way that can’t help but make you think of Nazi propaganda films from the 1930’s.

At one point I watched a young girl who was on her boyfriend’s shoulders, a few feet above the crowd. If this were a movie, this would be the moment the slow motion kicks in, and the camera zooms in on her face, which holds an expression of pure joy.

I want to make my way over to her, just so I can take her aside and make sure she understands that this moment is one she will never forget, that she will carry it with her always, through the complex landscape her life will eventually become. She’ll need to secure this memory in a safe place, like a treasure, so that she can find it when she needs it. When she’s feeling alone, or overwhelmed, she’ll be able to take out this remembrance, turn it over in her hand and recall the shimmering beauty of this moment.

Of course I don’t do that. I’m too old for the General Admission floor and have the sense those young people would render me limb from limb like rock-and-roll-crazed jackals were I to venture down there. Besides, Jeanette would have smacked me, and the girl’s boyfriend would likely have knocked me out, as well.

So I stayed in my seat and watched her, recalling my own concert memories from years gone by.

Out of My Depth

Because I live in "the live music capital of the world" and because my old college friend Ken Weinstein works in the music industry, I've had the opportunity to spend time with him during a couple of his visits here in the two and a half years since I moved here from New York. The first visit was during the Austin City Limits festival, and the second was today, during South by Southwest.

I picked Ken up at the home of a friend of his this morning at about 10. He looked reasonably well rested, despite having come in on the late flight from JFK. On his suggestion we went to Juan in a Million, on East Cesar Chavez, where we dined on migas which I actually love (Who knew?) and caught up with each other's lives.

From there we drove downtown, meeting up with Ken's friend, local deejay Andy Langer at Franks on 4th and Colorado, where we watched Jack White (formerly of the White Stripes). He started out by noting, "I see more black gadgets than faces," because the crowd around him were holding up our iPhones and Blackberrys, shooting pictures and video of him the entire time. At one point Kenny noted, "The only reason I can see anything is because I'm watching him through that guy's iPhone."

Jack played two songs on acoustic guitar, the first being "Not Fade Away," which he introduced as "a Texas song." The other was "Dead Leavein the Dirty Ground," a White Stripes song.

After the brief showcase was over, Kenny and I walked east to the Convention Center, where he got his badge. Then, Ken began bumping into people, including his business partner, Jim. And then a guy named Andy. And then a guy named Lyle. And then a woman whose name I can't remember. Then another. And another. And another.

We made our way with Jim back over to Franks, where Ken ran into Rolling Stone senior editor David Fricke who was extremely pleasant, graciously indulging fans who approached him, asking to have their pictures taken with him. After driving Ken, Jim and Andy over to the Four Seasons hotel to drop off Ken's stuff, I had the option to continue on with them. But I thought of Jeanette and the kids, and decided I needed to make my way back to them.

I think I may have been a little intimidated by the Industry Talk. I realized at some point that for these guys the festival is work. I was tagging along, and I think I needed to find some familiar ground.

It's not the last of South by Southwest for me this year; I'll try and get some sleep tonight and jump back in at some point, either tomorrow or Friday. It was great to see my old friend, but for me he was really the headliner of the festival today. Everything else made me feel a little out of my depth.

Central Market, Then and Now

You should have seen us, the first time Mignon Young and Alice Reedholm brought us to Central Market for lunch. I had no idea where the hell we were; it felt like we were in a supermarket. Why in the hell were my friends from high school taking me and my wife to a supermarket?? For a moment I thought it might be some sort of practical joke. Then I heard Mignon's younger son, Jackson, excitedly ask permission to go to the playground. Before she could answer, he was gone.



Now we were REALLY confused. So wait, we're at a supermarket. In the middle of a city. And there's a playground? What gives? Jeanette and I exchange a look and I consider asking Mignon if she's not a bit worried about letting Jackson run off like that, while we go to order our food at the supermarket. As New Yorkers, we are suspicious, but then we go out back to get the full effect of the picnic area. There are shade trees everywhere, and barefoot children running and cris-crossing, so that you have to dodge them on your way to your table. In the distance there is a small pond with geese and ducks floating around, and a giant live oak tree with children adorning it like Christmas tree ornaments.



The food was delicious, much to my surprise. And sure enough, Jackson found his way to our table, ate some pizza and zoomed off again to climb something somewhere. When we got back to our hotel, Jeanette and I discussed how freaked out we both were. Though it turned out to be a pleasant dining experience, we both found it completely foreign and well, weird, to borrow a phrase.



Today, nearly three years later, Central Market on North Lamar has become a haunt of ours. My friend Seth Levin has a blog ingeniously called "Dadventures in Beantown" in which he features all the cool things he does with his two sons in the Boston area. I would consider submitting this blog as a guest piece -- a "Dadventure in the ATX" -- or something, because we spend many a Saturday or Sunday there, Jeanette doing the shopping for the week, while I sit by the playground reading, emailing and drinking Shiner Bocks, and the boys do what boys do best -- run in merry circles, playing tag with total strangers and defying gravity on playground equipment.

It is now so familiar that I'm convinced my car could find its way there on its own if it had to. (I won't try it, so don't worry.) We are no longer concerned for even a second about letting the boys go and be on their own as we sit and guard our food from the grackles who swoop in at the first opportunity when you turn your head. There's live music on a regular basis, because this is Austin, after all. And there's even a really cool cooking school where Jeanette and I have taken a couple of classes, as have the boys.

If you come and visit us here in Austin, we may very well take you to Central Market, and although you may at first wonder why the hell we're taking you there, give it a chance. You'll understand, and you'll enjoy.