I’m lodged at the San Jose Hotel. One of the smaller pleasures of being back in the US, and particularly in an artsy, privileged city like Austin, is the availability of micro-brewed beer. I tried one called Fat Tire, which ironically was an amber ale stylized as “New Belgium,” whatever that means exactly. I hesitate to call the young man serving us drinks as a “waiter’ because he looked about 22 and his name was Bobby. He insisted that we speak in Spanish to him so that he could practice. I felt like a genius, sipping my Fat Tire and correcting Bobby’s Spanish.
Anyway, the 4th of July was nice. Not spectacular, but pleasant enough. Laure, Clarisa, Bruno and I went to the bridge on S. Congress St. over the Colorado River (no, not that Colorado River) with about 500 Austiners to watch fireworks over Lake Travis. Maybe it’s just me, but fireworks are pretty unoriginal these days, so the most interesting activity for me in all of this was shooting pictures of the fireworks and seeing what turned up.