White Ghost Shivers

Luv Doc Writings, The Luv Doc Recommends

MON., AUG. 14, 2006

It’s finally weed-out season: that succession of 100-plus degree, rainless days, mid-August through late September where the mythical, travel brochure Austin gets exposed as the merciless, scorching sweatbox it really is. If you’re a doe-eyed Midwesterner or a West Coast high tech transplant who moved down in May, you’re probably wondering what the hell happened to all the verdure. You’re probably wondering why tar is dripping from the roof and the tap water never gets any cooler than tepid. You’re wondering why your flip-flops are sticking to the asphalt or why your Chow keeps dropping laser hair removal mailers in your lap when you come home from work. You might find yourself walking more slowly past the thong section at Target or the giant kiddie pools at Wal-Mart. You might be reconsidering your scotch and sirloin diet or the fondue party you have planned for Labor Day. You might be seriously thinking about trying guacamole, ceviche, or mojitos – not because they sound exotic, but because they look cool. And maybe it’s time to see what the big deal is about Barton Springs, Campbell’s Hole, Deep Eddy, Hamilton Pool, or Hippie Hollow. While you’re at it, maybe you need to revisit the whole clothing question altogether. In August do you really need anything more that a straw hat and a plum smuggler? Check with the folks in HR. Maybe you could get by with nothing more than a light glaze of deodorant and sunscreen. Whatever you do, don’t hide indoors. That’s just admitting defeat. You might as well move back to Sheboygan or Sioux City. If you want to survive, you have to adapt, evolve. Besides, with global warming, August in Austin might be up to a buck thirty in a few years. You don’t want to have wasted your chance to enjoy the cool weather, do you? Of course not. That’s why this Saturday on the deck at Central Market, you should chill with the White Ghost Shivers. That’s right, by the time the Shivers hit the stage, temperatures should be somewhere in the frosty mid-90s, which is a perfect temp to enjoy hot music from the Twenties and Thirties by a freaky, fully clothed band fronted by a 7 foot dude named “Shorty.”