We decided to take a walk over to 6th Street, the comparative Bourbon Street of Austin. The Mr. grabbed a fresh hand-rolled cigar, I lit up a flavored cigarillo, and we rambled past the various dives and clubs in the district. Music of every sort poured through the open doors and windows as we walked down the strip. Jazz, rock, blues, country, death metal (by far the most distinct), all flowed freely through the streets, bounced off the buildings, and resonated in my ears as a sweet cacophony of culture and diversity. I stopped in the Museum of the Weird where the lady at the counter tried to lure me into the den of oddities with the promise of seeing Pancho Villa’s severed finger. I might be a little disappointed that I didn’t go. I love me a good severed head. In the meantime, a call had come in from a friend of the Mr.’s and a customer of mine who had moved from Broad Ripple to Austin, asking us to meet him at Ginny’s Little Longhorn Saloon just outside of downtown. Far be it from us to decline the invitation to a family-run honky-tonk deep in the heart of Texas (clap, clap, clap, clap).