A year ago, Austin was reporting growth of 70 citizens a day. Last week, The Austin Statesman claimed the increase was only 48 head per day. Nowhere in either of the articles was a breakdown of the numbers leaving town.

Way back, the deans at the University sent a lot of students packing back to their homeland for bad grades and worse behavior. The Catholic school over on the south side ran the University a close race, big difference being the good padres just didn't have as big a student body to cull from.

The legislature and the government offices cause the population of Austin to fluctuate, as do the colleges. However, the only time the state payroll decreases is in the campaign speeches on election years. No special census is necessary to calculate the growth in the state government. Just looking out the window of the second story of the Capitol building at all new the parking lots proves the case.

The death rate is hard to check. The cemetery on my route is the old one off I-35. The University of Texas is buying up property on the east side of the campus in such huge chunks, the college may have the old graveyard so surrounded that no more space is left for plots. I keep hearing the University has bought the cemetery. What isn't said is when the nights will be long enough for all those graves to be moved without causing a big uproar.

Austinites harbor strong passions. They aren't the kind to mess around moving their family plots. For that matter, moving a parking meter over six months old may take a permit from the historical society. Highway engineers used to bulldozing oak trees and mowing off wildflowers learn to be careful of stepping on acorns, or stepping off the sidewalks around that town. Seems like the activist element at the University flows over into the rest of the community. When I go to church in Austin, I always sit in the middle pew to be sure to be on neutral ground.

On my last visit, the overpopulation jammed I-35. Saturday night motorists forced me off the access road onto the howling revelry of East Sixth Street. So much marijuana smoke drifted off the crowds, my car's air cleaner choked on the fumes. Flashing neon signs from the tattoo parlors and barrooms reflected off my windshield into streams of rainbow-colored light. A city detective captured in the same traffic snarl caught my eye and burst out laughing. We wouldn't have been more out of place holding court in a Far Eastern sultan's tent.

Walking presents problems, too. Sidewalks are more like the floors of a big kennel than a concrete walkway. Walkers fade and sidestep the dog scat the way a ballet is danced on the stage of a Russian theater. Runners on the jogging paths without at least one dog on a leash are social outcasts. To be fashionable takes more plaited leashes and rhinestone collars than Velcro straps and cotton cord holding up the sweatsuits. I wheeze so hard exercising in the high humidity, I'm always afraid I'll whistle up a pack of loose potlickers. However, the leash laws must be serious, as more homeless people are seen wandering around downtown than stray dogs or alley cats.

Exotic pets are also popular in the city. In last week's classified sections of the daily, an advertisement offered a nine-foot boa constrictor and a wooden cage for $450. But the ad stipulated, "the snake needs a family atmosphere." I was also barred from the next offering: "Beautiful Moluccan cockatoo. $1100. Very gentle. Hates men (smart.)"

The other listings didn't discriminate. "A gentle ostrich" was open for bids. Kitties could be had for free. All the kennel club dogs were priced more than steer calves brought last summer, and some were higher than what the same cattle brought after being finished in the feedlot.

The most puzzling ad was a 40-gallon lizard lounge. I had to call the pet store in San Angelo to find out why a lizard needs a lounge. The lady explained, "a lizard lounge is a dry glass aquarium, 40 gallons in size, warmed by overhead basking lights to keep reptiles comfortable." She went on to say the lizard business is seasonal. "Picks up in the warm months and ends in the winter."

The whole scene is becoming too complex for country people. I don't mind asking over the telephone about lizard lounges. And I think I can eventually guess why the old gal wanting to sell the Moluccan cockatoo included the "hates men (smart)" in her ad. But I don't know whether I'd ever be convinced a nine-foot Boa constrictor needs a family atmosphere. The ones I watched in the jungle movies 60 years ago sure weren't family oriented...

April 1, 1999