The Great Psychedelic Armadillo Picnic (3 page)

In 1970, a birthday celebration for Threadgill's was held in Oak Hill. Fans guzzled beer, ate barbecue, and enjoyed a day of music and fun. Janis was in from Hawaii. When she learned of the celebration, she canceled a $15,000 show and flew straight to Austin. She and Kenneth sang and danced for the delighted crowd. Three months later she died of a drug overdose.

Kenneth Threadgill was a living representation of the unification of Austin's past and present. He went on to appear with Willie Nelson on the album and soundtrack of
Honeysuckle Rose
. Threadgill sang “Coming Back to Texas” and “Singing the Yodeling Blues.” He was paid $3,000 for acting in the movie of the same title, and $4,000 for the songs. In 1981 he released Kenneth Threadgill and the Velvet Cowpasture's first album, titled
Long-Haired Daddy.

In 1976 his beloved Mildred died, and Kenneth sold the tavern a few years later to Eddie Wilson, who was one of those Wednesday-night regulars back in the Janis days. Wilson christened it Threadgill's Restaurant, and it features his own excellent Southern cooking.

Kenneth Threadgill died of a pulmonary embolism on March 20, 1987, at Brackenridge Hospital in Austin.

EDDIE WILSON also heads another Austin Legend. The Armadillo World Headquarters sprang from the fevered brain of Wilson, and it changed Austin forever. The Armadillo was a Petri dish for what Austin was to become. Physically it was one of the many live-music venues that popped up in Austin during the early 1970s. Culturally it was unique. The Armadillo was a hip oasis in a desert of the Easy Rider Texas attitude “let's shoot the hippies off of their motorcycles.” It wasn't long before the hipness of the Armadillo spilled out into the rest of the city. Austin became a place where Cowboy and Hippie merged. Long hair and cowboy hats were unheard of in Texas in those days. The Armadillo gave those types a safe place to hang out, and in turn, Austin embraced them. A new counter-culture was born.

But it wasn't only the music that made the Armadillo what it was to become. A new breed of artists began painting posters and walls and stage sets and anything or anyone that didn't move as fast as their crazed, psychedelic, often brilliant ideas. Jim Franklin was the one who transformed the image of the shy, humble armadillo (previously thought of only as roadkill) into a mystical icon that took Austin to a new level of cultural and spiritual renown. Along with Franklin, the pantheon of great artists that created and, in a sense, were created by the Armadillo includes Michael Priest, Guy Juke, and Ken Featherstone.

When Willie Nelson started playing the venue in the early seventies, he kicked off what became known as the “Outlaw Movement.” Willie and other cosmic cowboys like Waylon Jennings, Doug Sahm, Michael Murphy, Billy Joe Shaver, Steve Fromholtz, Ray Wylie Hubbard, and Jerry Jeff Walker led the charge. The Armadillo provided a home for this renaissance. Without the Armadillo as the base for these fledgling bands, no one would ever have heard of the Outlaw Movement. On the West Coast, the Byrds and The Band were creating the same kind of musical fusion, but they called it country-rock, or Southern rock. The rest of the world was unaware of Austin until Willie exploded into the national consciousness with “Blue Eyes Cryin' in the Rain.”

Ten minutes later everyone wanted to come to Austin to have their hip cards punched. The best place to punch it was at the converted National Guard armory known as the Armadillo World Headquarters, where there were no seats, no air conditioning, and no pretense. The Armadillo lasted ten years. On December 31, 1980, it held its last New Year's Eve blowout, then the doors closed forever and the people went away. The building was demolished without fanfare.

Currently, Eddie Wilson's new Threadgill's World Headquarters at Riverside and Barton Springs Road sits next door to the site of the old Armadillo World Headquarters and serves as host to memorabilia from Austin's Armadillo days. Eddie calls his Threadgill's World Headquarters a “link between the new Austin and its past. In matters of music and food, we represent a time before disco or microwaves.”

Eddie still owns the original Threadgill's Restaurant, located at 6416 North Lamar. This restaurant houses their banquet facility, corporate offices, and a large kitchen for catering. They are open 365 days a year, so you can't miss it no matter when you visit Austin. Eddie did a good job in creating and maintaining these living memorials to the birthplace of the cosmic cowboy movement and Austin the way I remember it. Do the Kinkster a favor and thank him for me when you see him. Then you can tennis-shoe the bill.

A Night Out in Austin Quiz

For a night out on the town, do you:

spend hours primping before going out?

spend ten minutes primping before going out?

What the hell does “primping” mean?

At a bar you're more likely to order:

a Cosmopolitan

a diet hemlock

a Lonestar, baby!

You are:

a computer geek with a chip on your shoulder

a waiter at a leprosarium for unwed mothers

a vampire on the nod

In your CD player right now you have:

Sade

Eminem

Bastard Sons of Johnny Cash

At Starbucks you order:

a latte

another gentleman to move his fat ass

Fuck Starbucks!

You drive:

an Audi

a red, white, and blue Hummer

a nail through your forehead

When it comes to sports, you're into:

miniature golf

dwarf tossing

ultimate Frisbee

If you adopted a dog, it would be:

a hairless Chihuahua with a tattoo of Pinochet

a pit bull with your balls in its mouth

a stray with the eyes of Jesus

You name your dog:

Bullet

Checkers

Huevos Grande

You smoke:

Nothing! Tobacco smells disgusting!

wheelchair weed

somebody's pole

The last concert you saw was:

Pat Green

Yanni

the Dixie Chicks in London

Kinky's Extrapolations:

If you answered mostly a's:
For a night out on the town, you'll have the best time in the swanky “Warehouse District.” This is the place for young professionals and others who dress to impress and like to pretend they're in L.A. Check out Halycon or Trulucks, both on 4th Street. Of course they have valet parking.

If you answered mostly b's:
Head down to Sixth Street and welcome to wonderland. With too many bars to name and constant drink specials, you'll have no problem getting “your drink on.” Cheers, The Ritz, and The Bayou are all popular places frequented by the twenty- and thirty-somethings. Also have a drink or two at Flamingo Cantina, Joe's Generic Bar, and Sake on 6th, and, at gunpoint, the Hard Rock Café.

If you answered mostly c's:
The Red River District has your name written all over it. Everyone in these bars knows who Hank Williams, the Ramones, and the White Stripes are. A few places I'd send you to would be the Red Eyed Fly, Love Joy's, Room 710, Stubbs, and Club deVille. The Red River District is located off Red River and Ninth Street, a short walk from the busy Sixth Street.

Eat This

AFTER A NIGHT OF FESTIVITIES A LITTLE FOOD IS necessary so you don't wake up feeling like there's a small Aryan child playing an accordion in your head. One of my favorite all-night diners is the Magnolia Café. There are two locations, one on Congress and one on Lake Austin Boulevard. I like to get a giant stack of gingerbread pancakes made of whole wheat, cornmeal, and pecans. Wash it down with a shooter of homemade unsweetened lemonade. Fear not the dreadlocked, tattooed, pierced waitstaff, for their service is excellent and their conversation is often amusing. Feel free to light up a cigarette if you smoke, because Magnolia is one of the few restaurants you can smoke in without some asshole trying to make a citizen's arrest.

Another all-night diner is Kerbey Lane Café, which has four locations. In Austin you're either a Kerbey person or a Magnolia person, but you might as well hit both to figure out what kind of Austinite you'd be when you grow up. Kerbey Lane features locally grown, pesticide-free vegetables, free-range beef and pork, great entrées, and sometimes unusual fare done that way on purpose. The café welcomes vegetarians, carnivores, herbivores, and boring-vores who sit around with their cell phones and lattes, complaining that in California you can order a hummingbird-dick sandwich, so why not in Texas? Kerbey Lane is a haven for tolerance, however, so everyone is welcome. The menu covers every meal of the day; be sure to read the descriptions of the choices while you have the menu in front of you. That experience is almost as filling as the food.

Another all-night diner, and one of my favorites for tribal reasons, is Katz's Deli & Bar, located on West Sixth Street. In my opinion it's the only outlet for great Jew-food. I like to order the lox and eggs. You can also choose from sandwiches as big as your head and omelets the size of Anna Nicole Smith's nay-nays. Katz's kosher-style menu (rabbinically certified hot dogs and turkey ham are a few of the items), also include martinis, fried pickles, and stuffed jalapeños. There is a smoking section and a full bar. Katz's is an around-the-clock diner, and as the owner, Marc Katz, likes to say, “Katz's Never Kloses!” If you happen to come by any weekend night after the bars close, you are likely to meet some very interesting folks stumbling in. Last week I met a guy named Marlo who claimed he was a leg model for Victoria's Secret. He was a friendly guy who decided to just sit down at my table and engage in conversation with my party. It was quite an experience, but at Katz's you're likely to meet anyone. I did not, however, give him spare change for a sex change.

Another Austin establishment is Amy's Ice Creams. Amy's motto is “Life is uncertain . . . eat dessert first.” If you're craving ice cream at midnight, or earlier, Amy's is definitely the place to go. If the server drops your order as he flips it behind his back, you get it for free—and not the one that fell on the floor, either!

Directly across the street and down a few shops from Katz's is Hut's Hamburgers. This old-fashioned burger joint has been slapping its patties long before Fuddruckers was a gleam in its corporate mother's eye. If beef burgers are not to your taste, Hut's will replace it with buffalo meat, chicken breast, or a veggie burger. Order an old-fashioned vanilla Coke and a basket of fries or onion rings to complete the experience. President Bush rates this place as his favorite burger joint in Austin.

If you find yourself getting a little puckish, Barton Springs Road is home to some of the coolest restaurants in town. This little strip of street just down the way from the park is like a miniature Waikiki where you're more likely to get stuck in foot traffic than in car traffic.

All the cafés on Barton Springs Road are excellent. They include Chuy's, “Home of Big as Yo Face Burritos and Texas Martinis.” The busy décor is an ADD sufferer's worst nightmare next to standardized testing in a sixth-grade cafeteria on pizza day; don't forget to take your Ritalin! Baby Acapulco's, or Baby A's, as we natives call it, is another one of my favorite Mexican cantinas. They have great margaritas, especially the purple ones, and tasty avocado enchiladas.

Shady Grove, next to Baby A's, is about as laid-back as you can get. Outdoor seating is abundant and the Hippie Burger, a veggie patty, is my favorite thing to order. Inside they have shuffleboard to keep you entertained while waiting for your food. It'll put you into a coma in about three seconds. Lunches here are hectic as hell, so expect to be put on a waiting list. During the summer months there's live music featuring some of Austin's biggest names.

Across the street from Shady Grove is the hippest coffeehouse in Austin, Flipnotic's Coffee Space. This is a unique hangout spot, frequented by the young, the middle-aged, and some old fucks, too. Its outdoor patio makes you feel as though you're sitting in a friend's backyard, and that's because in many ways you are. Flipnotic's design is like a 1950s outer-space movie set, and there's also a TV fish tank you can stare at for hours. Some people stare at it for their entire lives.

Here the regulars are interesting, the employees are as friendly as a golden retriever puppy, and the atmosphere is ultra-relaxed. If you aren't in the mood for a coffee, you can grab a smoothie, a beer, or even a waitress. The Chewbacca Chicken Sandwich is what I usually get. While you're there, enjoy the people-watching opportunities; the patrons are quintessential Austin. Look around and you are sure to see an elderly guy with a foot-long braided beard, a hippie girl with a homemade skirt, a computer geek who bears an uncanny resemblance to Richard Speck, a tattooed biker, and an employee with a red afro the size of a basketball, all sitting together at one table getting along and having a good time. They also play good music like Waylon and Willie, the Flatlanders, Tish Hinojosa, and basically anything that doesn't get on the Kinkster's nerves.

THE NIGHT HAWK. For me, it is redolent of the dreams of youth and the smoke of life. In the early sixties I would sit with my college friends at the Night Hawk on the Drag, or the Plantation Restaurant or Uncle Van's Pancake House, now long-dead places of business and enlightenment that exist only as smoky little rooms of the soul, where we drank endless cups of blue coffee and solved the problems of the world as we knew it. And I think at times that we knew the world better than perhaps we know it now. So the Night Hawk to me symbolizes youth as well as age, that decidedly human process of being old enough to realize, young enough to know.

Like a rare and endangered species, the Night Hawk Restaurants once numbered four in Austin. Now there is but one left, at the corner of Burnet Road and Koenig Lane. Harry Akin, a former song-and-dance man, actor, and later mayor of Austin, founded the little chain and made it a chain before chains were a bad word. Now that the chain is gone, only the jewel survives. It is called the Frisco Shop, after a famous hamburger served by the Night Hawk since its inception in 1932. The Frisco Shop itself was established in 1953.

Akin was bugled to Jesus in 1976, but his slogan lives on: “There's Nothing Accidental About Quality.”

Many of Akin's former employees live on as well. More than ten of the Frisco staff have been with the Night Hawk organization for over twenty years. Many of the customers have been loyal patrons far longer than that, which is one reason I like the place so much. The demo-graphics are great. No matter how old you may feel, you'll always find people older than you at the Frisco. This is good because the only other place with the same demographic is the Shalom Retirement Village.

Harry Akin, indeed, was somewhat of a pioneer in civil rights. In the early sixties, he and the Night Hawk restaurants led the way in integrating Austin's public dining facilities. He believed in the strange concept of judging people on their merits, and he was an equal-opportunity employer from very early on.

Last, and probably most important of all, during the later years of his life the Frisco was my father's favorite restaurant in the world. The food he always found delicious, the service excellent. The waitresses all loved Tom. They reminded me vaguely of the maids at the Chelsea Hotel in New York—so friendly and zealous they made it difficult for you to commit suicide.

I came into the Frisco a few days after Tom had lost a year-long battle to cancer. When I left, one of the waitresses ran out after me into the parking lot with tears in her eyes. She had just heard the news that Tom was dead. She couldn't believe it. I couldn't, either. I'm not sure what her name was. Tom knew all their names.

So I go to the Night Hawk whenever I can. It's a bit of a walk down Yesterday Street. And I believe that if Texas were ever destroyed in a terrorist nuclear attack, three things would be sure to survive. In San Antonio, there'd be the Alamo. In Dallas, there'd be Tom Landry's hat. In Austin, there'd be the Night Hawk on Burnet Road.

THE KINKSTER'S TOP TWELVE AUSTIN RESTAURANTS

(Subject to change at any moment because of my fickle nature and drastic mood swings.)

Most of the restaurants (and people) I liked in Austin went belly-up about twenty-five years ago, but here are twelve places where you can't possibly go wrong. I list them, to paraphrase my father, in a random and haphazard order.

HILL'S CAFÉ. Bob Cole's re-creation of what was once a great restaurant and is now even better. Great food, great music, great old Austin ambiance. Best big hairy steaks in town. (South Congress Avenue)

THE TEXICALLI. Owned and operated by the unsinkable Danny Roy Young, unofficial mayor of South Austin. Killer-bee hamburgers, jukebox, and vintage Austin art (Check out Guy Juke's poster of John McCall's '56 Chevy. It's on the ceiling.) Don't leave without trying the Dr. Pepper Milkshake. (East Oltorf )

CISCO'S. Rudy Cisnero's old place, serving the best Mexican breakfasts in Austin. Note the pic of me and Willie on your way to the dumper. (East Sixth Street)

SAM'S BARBECUE. There are more terrific barbecue places in Austin than crossties on a railroad or stars in the sky, but Sam's brisket is the best in the world. (2000 East 12th Street)

THREADGILL'S RESTAURANT. Previously extolled, but worth mentioning again. A must for out-of-state visitors who want to get their hip cards punched. Try the fried green tomatoes. (Riverside Drive)

LAS MANITAS. The place to have breakfast with Austin's social, cultural, and political elite. To paraphrase my father, it's always a successful excursion when you see someone more important than you. A great photo of Austin favorite James McMurtry hangs over the counter. (Congress Avenue at Third)

TOP NOTCH. Tom Friedman's favorite hamburger place. Mine, too. (Burnet Road)

TIEN HONG. Best Chinese restaurant in Austin. Try dim sum on Saturdays and Sundays.
Dim sum,
by the way, means “to touch the heart lightly.” (Burnet Road near 183)

EL PATIO. Been there forever, and it's still right up there at the top. In the fifties, before he made it big, Elvis took my friend Kara's mother here on a date. He drove her to the restaurant in a lavender Cadillac. When they walked into the place, they had to pass by a table full of frat daddies. “Hey, look!” somebody shouted. “It's Fats Domino.” (Guadalupe and 29th Street)

NIGHT HAWK FRISCO SHOP. Everything I said about it is true. Believe what I tell you. Mandatory. (Burnet Road at Koenig)

KATZ'S DELI. Like I said, the best Jew-food in town. Not to be missed at any hour of the day or night. (Sixth Street)

JOVITA'S. Eat killer-bee enchiladas, and on Thursday nights see and hear one of the finest country bands in the world, the Cornell Hurd Band. (South First Street)