They didn't tell me it would be pink!

If you're mind's in the gutter after a title like that, then I've succeeded.

This, actually, is what I'm talking about:



Texas' capital building is larger than the federal dome in Washington DC, and is the only state capital to even be allowed bigger. The limestone that was used to build it is pink, and while the camera doesn't show off enough of the pink splendor, you'll have to trust me, dear readers, that when the sun is lighting it up at that golden time of the day, as an observer from another state, you almost smirk.

Pink.

So, I made it another goal of my second ride to make it over to the capital and snap some pictures, try to get a sense of the grounds and all, try to educate my few readers who don't live in the area what Austin's capital is like. The sloping symmetrically planned out lawns and walkways all give off relaxing aura, the "carriage ways" up to the massive doorway have all since been paved, the grass is shorn smartly and the oaks deliver keen shade. I rode the bicycle to the southern entrance and snapped a shot looking south down Congress Ave, one of downtown's hoppin' streets. Right outside the gate were a half-dozen protesters. They held signs saying "Rick Perry is a serial killer" and "So-and-so is Texas' 15th execution of 2010". On my way back up the Grand Walkway, a monument caught my attention. This monument wasn't on the monument legend I read before I started to make my way down towards them. I wasn't surprised, really, once I got to it.

Here's the classic look.



Here's Congress , looking south. The bridge that crosses Town Lake/the River at Congress has hundreds of thousands of bats that emerge during the springtime dusk hour and blacken the sky as they flit out looking for bugs. Haven't been to see it yet (you'd've known). A protester is slightly visible in the lower right corner, tying their shoe or something.



Here's that monument.



Not sure how I feel about it. Obviously I'd enjoy the week it would take to smash it to bits using a small sledge hammer, but probably because my history isn't connected with the roots that had this monument commissioned. I try not to begrudge folks their histories (because it's impossible), but convictions, if ignorant, are worthless to me. A monument glorifying the heroics of the Confederate States seemed out of place to me when I saw it...we're not in Jackson or Montgomery, we're in Austin, the liberal oasis in Texas...but you can't begrudge people their histories. As a descendant of northerners--wait, am I a descendant of northerners? During the Civil War I had ancestors in California, Germany, Italy, and Ireland. Does that count? In any case, to someone not associated with an upbringing in the South or Texas, the Confederacy = Slavery, even though that's much too naive and narrow scoped (that disregards plenty of economic, social, and cultural factors). The topic is still touchy, even in Texas, and a "rebel" is still a romantic figure and mascot.

When I read the following close-up on the monument, I gained some perspective by remembering a scene from the Cold War era Patrick Swayze shoot-em-up film, Red Dawn, where Soviets invade America and occupy the western section. The scene has a pair of soldiers, or a pair of officers, looking out at a nice vista with an plaque in front of them, and only one can read English. He's translating the sign for the other gentleman, and the subtitle gives away what someone with a different history would make of ours, "This meadow was the scene of a slaughter by the capitalist pigs of the indigenous people, on their march towards genocide," or something similar. For closer inspection:



One person's history is another person's punchline. Since I've been here, I've been informed that I'm a pretty cool guy, despite being from the "land of fruits and nuts."