May 01, 2003

Texas Pride

by Joshua Carden

Last year I moved from one state that isn’t Texas (Virginia) to another state that isn’t Texas (Arizona) – with a two day stopover in the Promised Land in between.  Ever since I left Texas in 1998, I’ve received numerous inquiries (translated: “snide remarks”) about my Texas roots and heritage. I’d like to set the record straight once and for all: most of the stereotypes you probably have about Texans are true.

Let me run down a short list to prove it:  

1.      I have a real Texas flag in my house. 

Once flown over the state capitol – which <ahem> is the largest state capitol in the nation, second in overall size only to the U.S. Capitol and actually taller than that eminent building by seven feet – the symbol of the Lone Star State hangs proudly in my stairwell.  I’m only counting real flags you understand.  I’m not counting the Texas candle, the candyholder, the pictures, the t-shirts, the license plates, the blanket….. 

2.      I own at least one firearm manufactured by Smith & Wesson.

Old readers will remember my gun stories.  For the new readers, suffice it to say that it would be highly unwise to enter my house after hours.  I may not be the roughest, toughest, rootin’-tootin’ hombre to ride the plains (that would be my brother Jason), but a .45-caliber pistol in my hand goes a long way towards evenin’ the odds.  Don’t worry – after law school I always ask questions first and shoot later instead of vice versa.    

3.      I listen to country music

Although I was as disgusted with Natalie Maines as any other supporter of our President, I have to admit that country music has been a longtime favorite of mine.  Hey, don’t roll your eyes at me!!! According to Billboard, “King” George Strait has been played more than anybody but Mariah Carey for the last five years. There are some really good country songs out there! They’re not all the stereotypical country songs either.  But that reminds me: what do you get when you play a country song backwards?  You get your wife back, your job back, you quit drinking, your dog comes home….

4.      I wear cowboy boots

This is not optional for Texans.  I have a pair of gray ostrich boots, made all the more special in that they belonged to my father and have his (and my) initials on them.  I’ve worn out three sets of soles on those boots and they’re still kicking! My supervisor has aroused my ire on more than one occasion by commenting on their “greenish” tinge.  It’s just the fluorescent lights, honest.  Besides, he wears a big ol’ belt buckle from his days in the Forestry Service so HE’S one to talk!

5.      I’ve ridden in a roundup

Okay, so not everyone in Texas gets to do this.  And this wasn’t a trail drive to Kansas or anything.  But I’ve participated in a gen-yew-ine roundup, moving gen-yew-ine cows from one corral to another, with gen-yew-ine saddle blisters on my rear end.  After that day of riding, I could have opened an umbrella between my legs and never touched either knee!   But it was worth it.  I can say I’ve done it.

6.      I say “y’all” and “fixin’” and “gonna”

When you take depositions or appear in court, the court reporter writes down every word you say.  And I do mean EVERY WORD!  It’s not always pretty. My trial professor did his level best to break of my more “hick” vocal habits.  He tried everything but putting a doggie shock collar on me – though I’m sure he was tempted. Professor D, I’m still gonna work on it.  It’s fixin’ to git better, I promise y’all.  And by the way, please note the correct placement of the apostrophe in “y’all.”  And the plural of “y’all”?  That’s easy: “ALL y’all.” 

Okay, so maybe I don’t fit ALL the stereotypes: I don’t drink, don’t chew, don’t go with girls who do.  I don’t have a ten-gallon hat (it’s more of a 3.5 gallon); don’t drive a pick-up; don’t wear blue jeans everywhere (really, mom, I don’t); don’t fly the confederate flag; and I’ve only had rattlesnake ribs once.

It’s not that I’m knocking the other 49 states in our wonderful union.  I just feel claustrophobic in them.  My favorite Texas “size” fact is that El Paso and Texarkana (West & East Texas towns) are closer to their respective oceans than they are to each other.  And for those of you smarty-pants about to bring up Alaska - well, I hate to break this to you, but the Russians lied about the size of Alaska when they sold it to us, and the Canadians have backed them up on it ever since.  Alaska is really only the size of Iowa, but it’s so cold there that the measuring instruments just don’t work right…..Oh come on!  You mean to tell me you’re just gonna BELIEVE the map makers?  You’re not going to check for yourself?  *sigh* You’ve been suckered, just like the rest of the country.          

Well, you may be wondering what prompted the Texas rant.  Not too long ago, I arrived at my cubicle in the office and noticed that some thoughtful soul had left me a gift.  Seems that this person – who shall remain nameless – had someone drive a car for his daughter from Texas to Arizona.  When Gary (oops) got the car, he got Arizona tags for it.  Not wanting the Texas tags anymore, Mr. McCaleb (oops again) placed them in the most logical place he could think of – my cubicle.  Bug splatters and all.  It’s absolutely beautiful. *sniff* I think I’m getting homesick. *sniff* Has anybody got a hanky? “The stars at night, are big and bright…….”