An Open Letter

Dear I Love You So Much Wall,

Hey, dude. I love you back. So much. This is why I had to write this letter. I appreciate you as a reminder of why I loved this city so much when I moved here. It’s random acts like this that make Austin so fun to live in. Often, Austinites, absorb anonymous acts of creativity as their own, openly, and with great enthusiasm. To be honest, the bro side of me was initially like, “That’s so lame. Ha. You love dick so much.” But, that’s not really me, man. That’s not me. I really think this is awesome. 

Unfortunately, your location near the popular Austin tourist locations on South Congress Avenue transformed you into, my fair wall friend, a hot spot for yuppie out-of-town and local yuppies to take their photos. Something like this shouldn’t bother me. Hell, people take tons of pictures in front of that frog thing Daniel Johnston painted on Guadalupe. They take loads of photos at Mount Bonnell or Downtown in the early mornings. Austin is a photogenic town. For some reason, I feel really uneasy when I watch people run up to to you and ask strangers to take their picture or when I see people taking couples’ photos in front of you.

Does that not bother you? That everyone else has taken their picture there? You literally say the same thing every time. Everyone’s picture reads “I love you so much.” Everyone knows what you are and where you are. Perhaps, I find it lazy, and I don’t like lazy when it comes to things as important as couples’ photos. I get frustrated with the lack of creativity in people, and as I watch giddy individuals and groups gather at this wall, I watch a little bit of you, my dear friend, die. A piece of you is taken every time a member of the roaming hoard of Texan yuppies comes to South Congress to inject a bit of bohemian kitsch into their dull lives.

People like me, who actually frequent the area because I live here, have to watch something that I would have liked to have done with my future wife and you become less and less important. The whims of a sweet, artistic soul that created you are now just another cultural commodity that this city offers that is getting sopped up by the tasteless, cultureless dinner roll that are groups of Texan yuppies.

I feel sorry for you. I feel sorry for the people that work at Jo’s that have to share a wall with you and have to put up with questions about you. I sometimes feel bad for this city. It’s too nice for its own good. 

I should just get over it.