It’s hard to describe what makes Austin Austin, but I think I’m onto something. When I first came to visit here in 1988, I noticed something comforting, inviting, safe. The graffiti, even on dive bar bathroom walls, was harmless, clean, smart and sometimes inspiring. No phone numbers, no genital references and no profanity. I guess it’s still mostly that way, and at first glance at the water cooler on the 8th tee at Lions Muny last Friday, I assumed the spirit was alive and well. But then I looked a little closer, only to find stains of the creatively-challenged. Please, golfers, if you feel the need to scribble out what’s on your mind, and it’s not something you’d want me to find out that you wrote and my daughter read, either write it on your pathetic excuse for a scorecard or leave the grafitti to the professionals. Thank you.