THE END OF THE CHRISTMAS ORGASM

From the Austin Chronicle courtesy of AlterNet:

37th Street Lights

Randy Thompson, a 37th Street resident since 1980, said, "Most years I wouldn't say the [Zilker Park] Trail of Lights is better than ours, but this year it is." Thompson said he opted against putting up lights due to spousal pressure and reported overhearing upset and belligerent onlookers bemoan his lack of lights as well as his next-door neighbor's lackluster illumination effort.

"It's unfair that we're somehow responsible for entertaining the city of Austin," said a 37th Street resident of four years who asked not to be named for fear of darkening relations with neighbors. We'll refer to that source as Rudolph. "The story ended last year. You can observe what happened now that the people who started the tradition aren't here any more," Rudolph said. "It's not the new people's fault that they didn't buy into the lights, they simply saw a house that met their needs." Many of the new homeowners are professionals who come home late and rarely socialize with neighbors, he added.

While the new folks can't be held responsible for upholding the tradition, "We're trying to get the community kicked back in," Rudolph said. The famously intertwined displays had always been dependent on kinship, camaraderie, and bonding on the street – an effort for neighbors, by neighbors. "All the characters involved didn't necessarily like each other," he explained, "but we got along and could stand in the street together and have some beers."

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Years ago I lived on 35th street for a few years, which is just a block over from all the now missing hooplah--yeah, yeah, I know; it's very weird that there is no 36th street between 35th and 37th, but what can you do? Indeed, I moved into my Hyde Park neighborhood apartment right around the time that the whole thing was starting to take off. When I first saw it in December of '88, I was like, "Wow! This is a Christmas orgasm!" And that's what I've called it ever since, the Christmas Orgasm.

No, I'm not kidding. These people have gone fucking nuts on Christmas lights for years and years. Here, check it out:



Click here for more Christmas Orgasm pics.

It was incredible to just cut through from the back of my apartments and end up in what amounted to a real live Emerald City in only moments. It was like being on LSD. Actually, there were a few times that it really was like being on LSD, but enough about that--I've said too much already. The point is that the Christmas Orgasm was flamboyant evidence of what makes Austin so unique. That is, the 37th Street lights weren't something put together by some corporation or entertainment company out of New York or Los Angeles: they were created and maintained by average ordinary Austinites for no other reason than that they wanted to do it. The Christmas Orgasm was a magnificent manifestation of honest and authentic human culture, no plastic about it.

And now it's gone, apparently thanks to gentrifying yuppies who are too caught up in their careers to participate in a cherished neighborhood tradition, something else for which we can blame the corporations.

You know, a lot of Americans can't seem to get their hands around why the destruction of New Orleans, and the possible non-return of many of its citizens, is such a terrible thing. "They'll rebuild eventually. It'll be better than before with new people," they say. Well, yeah, that's true. But many of those New Orleaneans who can't or won't return were just like the people who used to live on 37th in Austin: they were the backbone of a totally unique local culture, an island of honesty and creativity in an ocean of artistic apathy and prefabricated cultural swill. And that's something one can never understand if one hasn't ever personally experienced it.

I often fear that the vacant and meaningless way of life in the suburbs is going to drown us all.

Farewell, Christmas Orgasm. I hope you return someday.

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