new year, old gratitude

ON 1.3.13 A COUPLE GUYS WHO LOOKED LIKE FUGITIVES came running at me as I made a right off Riverside towards the Congress bridge. Turns out they were just jonesing for a warm cab on a cold night. Refugees from the early morning/all-day shifts at their South Austin restaurant jobs.

The nosey bastard in me immediately wanted to know if they knew anything about the big heroin bust at Jovita a few months ago.

"I know the feds have confiscated the property," the Magnolia Cafe waiter told me.

"My friend's sister works for the FBI and he warned 'em," added the Polvo's waiter. "He told 'em they were being watched. But they must not have believed him. Supposedly they were selling that stuff for almost 20 years."

Polvo's Guy would go on to tell me he showed up in Austin nearly 20 years ago too. When I meet people in my cab who've been here awhile, my first instinct is always to ask how they feel about all the changes around Austin. I've asked the question many times, so I've got a pretty diverse sampling size. And I can tell you that most people, while quick to complain about the traffic, are okay with all the growth and the new people.

But every so often I'll meet someone like Polvo's Guy. When I ask him how he feels about the changes around town, his response sounds something like this:

"It sucks. Traffic blows. No such thing as Mopac when I got here. I could do without all these Californians moving here too. These people who'll order a meal – and you'll walk up 3, 4 times to ask if everything's okay, and they'll say, 'Yeah, everything's great' – then at the very end of the meal they'll say they didn't like it, it was too spicy, whatever. And they don't wanna pay for it!"

"C'mon," I blurt out from the front seat, my disbelief utterly sincere. "People actually try to pull that shit?"

"Yeah," Polvo Guy laughs incredulously. "And they're usually from California. I could do without those whiny motherfuckers."

By the time I drop off the waiters near Stassney, their fare is up to $35. Like true blue service industry workers, they tip me $8 bucks – a solid 23%.

Of course, I never mentioned that I was one of those freshly transplanted motherfuckers from California.

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On New Year's Eve I was telling another pair of locals – a perky Westlake lifer and her bleary-eyed date – my philosophy on being a newcomer to Austin. It's an answer I've given numerous times over the last couple years, anytime someone asks me how Austin compares to my hometown.

"Austin reminds me of L.A. in many ways," I told them. "They've both got decent weather most of the time. They're both progressive places with lots to do, lots of stimulating, healthy activities. Lotta creativity flowing, good people watching, great restaurants. Lots of water sport options. But the things that drive me crazy about L.A. – the greed, the narcissism, the obsession with fame & celebrity – Austin is a huge upgrade. In L.A. people acquire things thinking it's gonna make them happy. In Austin, people are happy. And they really love living in Austin."

More than one of my customers over the last 2 1/2 years has heard me go on about how important it is to me that I don't become one of those annoying d-bags from L.A. I've been more than happy to get away from. I recognize that this is a very special place, largely thanks to driving my cab.

This job has allowed me to check out dozens of neighborhoods, drive down hundreds of streets and meet thousands of people.

And it's all led me to one indisputable conclusion: This place is amazing.

Far be it for me to screw that up. From what I can surmise, our mission is to enhance the Austin amazing – be thoughtful, interesting, informed – not detract from it.

And if you catch me stinking up the Austin authenticity by acting like an L.A. a-hole, feel free to slap me silly with a piping hot Home Slice pizza. Gluten-free, if possible.

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BONUS QUESTION: We'll give a free copy of Barstool Poetry to the first person to identify the city where I snapped today's pic o' the day.