Zilker Park

50th Annual Zilker Summer Musical – Disney’s Beauty and the Beast

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July 7, 2008

OK, it’s highly unlikely you are going to get laid by attending the Zilker Hillside Theatre’s production of Beauty and the Beast. In fact, it’s probably not a good policy to go trolling for strange at a venue where nearly half the people are under legal age – even by Arkansas standards. However, if you’re the discriminating type – someone who can tell the difference between a South Austin cougar divorcée and a dreadlocked high school hippie chick (hint: check for gray underarm stubble) – you can probably do a little browsing without subjecting yourself to criminal prosecution. Life is full of risks, isn’t it? You could make the argument that going solo to a G-rated play in the park is like cruising past an elementary school in a panel van wearing a clown suit and waving candy, but it isn’t exactly the same. There is legitimate business you can claim to be up to over at Zilker – and not just the choo-choo ride. First and foremost is Barton Springs. Yes, that Barton Springs, the most revered piece of Austin real estate that hasn’t been converted into condos or a shitty theme bar. The thing you need to know about Barton Springs – Austin’s dirty little secret – is that people like the concept of Barton Springs much more than they like the execution. Yes, it’s an idyllic setting with shade trees and grassy hills and the shrieks of little children, but the centerpiece of the whole scene is one motherfucking freezing pool of water. Pay a little closer attention, and you’ll realize that those aren’t just the shrieks of children. Yes, they’re in the same tonal register, but a good many of those shrieks are coming from full-grown adults. It doesn’t matter whether you’re packing fully formed ovaries or big, swinging brass balls, the natural reaction of any normal adult when coming in contact with Barton Springs water is to scream like a little school girl. A token few may be able to stifle the sound or at least throttle it down to an inaudible dog whistle, but regardless of what’s coming out of their mouths, their minds are twisted into an agonizing Edvard Munch painting. If you tiptoe into Barton Springs, your mind will tell you to tiptoe right the fuck back out. You can’t acclimate. The only way to go into Barton Springs is to dive headfirst … ideally not into the shallow end. The benefit of diving headfirst is that your scream will be muffled by the ice water. Jump in feet first, and there’s still a few milliseconds for air to escape past your larynx, which has already contracted to the size of a pinhole. Think about it this way: The lifeguard will be less likely to notice you’ve had a cardiac arrest in the deep end if she is mopping up the blood trickling out of her ears. Do it right. Put your towel down on the grass, walk all the way around the pool to the diving board, dive in, and swim as fast as you can to the other side. Then you can pick up your towel and make your way to the solar-heated, open-air showers, where after a few minutes your balls will descend from the far reaches of your abdominal cavity. Wasn’t that awesome? Barton Springs is such a great natural resource. Now, if your complaint was that going to see a play in Zilker Park in the middle of July would be too hot, rest assured that a quick dip in the Springs will keep you shivering for the rest of the night. It will also serve as a perfectly acceptable excuse for a grown person to stumble into a Disney musical. You can say you always carry a folding chair and an ice chest full of Shiner longnecks in your trunk. Austinites are used to inexplicable eccentricities. The payoff? Well, there’s the strange you aren’t going to get, plus the consolation prize of a damn fine Disney musical, played exuberantly by a talented cast of locals who could hold their own on any stage in America. You don’t have to be a child to enjoy the energy and unrepentant camp brought to this production, but you might have to get over your coolness – if only to keep your teeth from chattering.

Keepin’ It Weird

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MON., SEPT. 11, 2006

This weekend thousands of middle-class white people will descend on Austin to eat our food, drink our liquor, and dance with our dates. Hopefully we will be as accommodating as we were last weekend with the Buckeyes, both on and off the field. The field this weekend, however, is down at Zilker Park. Normally it’s populated with adult soccer players (mostly hyper-competitive, soft-boned, office-worker creampuffs who make orthopedic surgeons piss their pants with delight) and the occasional miniature choo-choo full of exhausted parents and toddlers with soft-serve mustaches/purple popsicle tongues. The field at Zilker Park is exactly the type of uninspired landscape that demands you make your own fun, whether with a pinch-hitter and a hacky-sac or eight stages and 90 bands. Sure, Austin has its hills and lakes and cricks and rivers and all manner of furry and feathered fauna, but its true charm is its people. No matter how hard Starbucks or Applebees or Wal-Mart or Old Navy or any other tentacle of corporate generica has tried to suck us into its grasp, Austinites have managed to maintain and nourish their individuality, their “weirdness.” Out-of-towners, especially middle-class suburbanites from treeless, sprawling subdivisions find Austin’s civic quirkiness fascinating. They come here ostensibly for the music, or the sports, or the bats, or a first-class education, but they really dig us as much for the freakshow as anything else. On any given week you can run into a swarthy, crossdressing homeless guy in a thong and red heels, a dude who looks like Jesus selling flowers, dogs on a motorcycle, hippies, punks, emos, retros – and the freakiest of all: taco-hatted frat boys on a drinking binge. If you need help locating any of the above, we have ghost tours, duck tours, dork tours (aka those silly Segway tours), and all manner of drinking tours, just follow the frat boys. Whether you’re from here or there, if you want to get a taste of Austin weirdness without inhaling the stench of sweat, stale beer, and urine, you’re in luck: Dave Steakley at Zach Scott has put together Keepin’ It Weird, a play about Austin weirdness culled from more than 200 hours of interviews with real Austin weirdos. Yes, life’s rich pageant all dolled up and done up onstage. What could be more Austin than that?

Austin Symphony Fourth of July Concert and Fireworks

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JULY 4, 2002

Before you go speeding out of town to some rural backwater with a municipal ordinance that allows for the firing of rocket propelled grenades and whatnot, consider staying in Austin for the big fireworks display down at Zilker Park. Sure, the Zilker celebration is a daunting, 100,000 strong crush of locals, many with a fashion sense that calls into serious question the concept of freedom, but at least you won’t be a frazzled, neurotic mess from ducking bottle rockets and stamping out inadvertent brush fires. While it’s true that nothing exemplifies independence like cutting loose with your own private arsenal of colorful, Chinese-made pyrotechnics, the cost these days is downright staggering. By the time your punk has burned out, your overblown expectations and half your wallet have gone up in smoke. Why not invest those benjamins (be honest, you can’t throw up anything truly impressive for less than a c-note) in a new bandana for the Labrador, some plush lawn chairs, or maybe one of those giant coolers with wheels? That way you can kick back, listen to a little Tchaikovsky and stare up in slack jawed wonder at the brilliant spectacle above. Best of all, like America, it’s free.

74th Annual Zilker Kite Festival

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March 1, 2002

Despite the recent cold snap, Spring is dangerously close. The trees are sprouting that first hesitant vernal fringe of light green. Giant, odd weeds are growing rapaciously in unmown lawns and the Grackles are slowly being crowded out by birds of a lighter color and disposition. Soon enough you’ll be going sockless in your Birkenstocks and slathering on coconut scented sunblock like you’re headed for a Roman orgy. So, even if right now the thermometer is hovering just shy of tepid, you might want to wander back outside and get acclimated. Here’s something to do: Tie the bandana on the Labrador and head over to Zilker Park this Sunday for the 74th Annual Zilker Kite Festival. Yes, 74th. Since 1928 Austinites have plying the blustery March ether with all manner of tethered creations. This year’s festival will include over 200 homebuilt kites with prizes awarded for biggest, smallest, highest flying and most creative. There will also be a kite workshop for the kids, stunt kite demonstrations and a “Mass Ascent” in which all kites will be flown at once (If it’s exceptionally windy, you may want to throw on a helmet for this one. That nosedive on the noggin can really smart.) Lastly, chicks dig kites, dudes dig kites and if numbers mean anything, dogs dig kites. You should be able to hook up with at least one of the three, even if it’s only by a leash.