Elepent

The Elysium in Austin has stuck around long enough to become a landmark. On the outskirts of the rapidly-changing Sixth Street bar scene, clubs come and go, but the Elysium is pushing ten years of age.  Formerly known as the Atomic Café, Elysium’s smack in the middle of fratboy heaven, an unlikely location for a dedicated goth-industrial haven, but it exists.  On Saturday nights you’ll have to walk through crowds of people who’ll look at you funny to reach the weekly night (named “Haven”), but once inside, it’s a happy place.

If it weren’t for the noisy music and clever faux-stone painted walls, you might mistake the place for a typical honky-tonk bar:  you’ve got a dance floor and a stage at one side, some tables and circular velvet couches in the center, and the bar and some red- covered pool tables at the other end, and you’re constantly going up or down steps: two down onto the dance floor, or one up to the bar.  There’s an outdoor patio as well, for people-watching.  Look closer, though, and you’ll notice the Bauhaus and concert posters on the walls, and random sigils and art that decorate the walls.  Austin does have a goth scene, and this is the place most of them call home.  It’s also where the noisy folks like Funker Vogt and Voltaire come to play, when they’re in town.

Arrive early and you’ll think that there aren’t many people in the aforementioned scene, but by midnight the Elysium’s too crowded to throw an elbow, on most Saturday nights.  The dance floor is old-school wood and a bit smaller than average, because the club’s set up for live music, the bread and butter of Austin’s club scene.   On Haven nights, the stage is open for showing off if you like.  Be careful, though–the surface is a little bit uneven.

Like the Church, Elysium’s staff and patrons are friendly, especially if you’re dressed to the nines and beyond.  Most any form of dress is acceptable, however.

The sound system is also biased toward live music, so the sound is better at one end of the dance floor than the other.  There’s the requisite smoke machine, of course.  A good Haven night will lean heavily toward older synthpop and very new stompy stuff:  VNV Nation, And One, Faderhead, ohGr, Ladytron and Combichrist.  Expect a bit of Depeche Mode and Ladytron to pop also, as well as the odd Rammstein throwback.  Resident DJs Void and The Gothfather spin a good mix that’s fairly constant throughout the night, and since they always play the original mix of “Le Disko” by Shiny Toy Guns, never bothering with any of the many nasty remixes, they get a thumbs-up from me.

We find ourselves, unexpectedly, members of a secret society, of sorts.  Okay, it’s not all that secret, but it’s fun to imagine that it is.  When we decided to take to the road full-time in our big old Dolphin, we knew that we were younger than the average RV travelers, and the raised eyebrows that we encountered at many parks were expected.

After a few months on the road, though, we began to wonder if there were ANY other fulltimers who weren’t retirees.  It’s not that we can’t get along with our neighbors at the campgrounds, of course.  We’re generally quiet and keep to ourselves, and keep our campsite clean.  And we’re friendly, though perhaps a bit funny-looking and prone to staying up far, far later than most campers do.  We put our clothesline out like anybody else…it’s just that there are fishnet skirts on it.

Anyway, those feelings of isolation were soothed when we came across the NuRVers website.  Populated mainly by pre-retirement age RVers, many of whom are also fulltimers, we suddenly found ourselves among like-minded individuals.  When we learned that the group’s annual “Days of the Nu” gathering was taking place a scant forty miles from our hookup near Bastrop, we required no arm-twisting to unhook and head down.

The gathering was small, with five couples descending upon the Lazy L&L Campground for a weekend of social drinking, get-to-know-you games, RV maintenance and shared meals.  It was like a holiday, and refreshing to see a diverse crowd that instantly clicked on multiple levels.  The NuRVers (ourselves included, now) come from a wide range of backgrounds, but we have a lot in common as well.

Rather than containing the usual party games and retiree-oriented activities, the Days of the Nu focused on a family-like atmosphere.  Morning and evening meals were shared, potluck affairs, with each household bringing a dish to contribute and XM satellite radio providing a soundtrack.  Recipes were shared, and margaritas were made.  Impromptu RV care and knitting seminars were held, and on the third day we had a “swap meet,” to which everyone was encouraged to bring accumulated unneccessaries for possible trade or sale to other NuRVers, using the “one man’s trash” theory.  We also toured one another’s coaches, admiring the little touches that turn an RV or trailer from a rolling assortment of appliances and furniture into a true home.

We were reluctant to leave on Sunday; it felt like leaving a vacation and going back to “real life.”  Though, looking around our surroundings, “real life” ain’t too bad, either.

If you’re interested in the NuRVers, there’s a link to the site on our main page.  Feel like you don’t fit in with the other RV people?  Join usss!