Proud to be a Texan...

I have always been proud of being a Texan. Most of us who were born in Texas feel that way. Of course, there have been a few scoundrels who brought some shame on the name, but that only seems to enhance the mystique. Like having a member of the family who robbed banks with Bonnie and Clyde or was arrested for some noble act of civil disobedience. The weight of the shame lessens if three generations have past, or you’ve crossed three rivers. Being a Texan makes up for it.

You don’t really need a hat to be a Texas. Of course, most of us started out young with a good straw hat on our head and a string around our chin. Some went on to expensive wool or beaver hats, molded to match one worn by our favorite rodeo or country music star. Watching bull riding on television the other night, I wondered if that hat which had been thrown down in the mud and muck was really their “good” hat… the one they wore in the parade or on the stage at the award ceremony or to church on Sunday. Surely not.

But you don’t have to have any hat to be a Texan. Some of those guys wearing “good” hats are from Michigan. They just wish they were a Texan.

Blue jeans (without holes), big belt buckles, and snap shirts add to the look, but you can feel the pride of being a Texan without them. Real Texans wear coveralls on the rig, overalls on a tractor, or even a worsted woold suit to the bank on Monday morning.

Texans of the girl variety can wear whatever they want. However, a girl Texan has a tendency to bling it up a bit. Silver buckles, turquoise necklaces, and a tight pair of pants don’t make a girl a Texan, but it sure sets her apart and makes everyone else jealous. In New York City, a Texas girl might stand out, but around here, she’d blend right in.

Texans have always driven pickups. It’s a step toward being an adult (read that “being a man.”) We don’t have to have cattle or horses or anything to pull around with a trailer hitch, but we need a pickup. Some of us soften the blow by making do with an SUV. That way we’ll have a way to haul something. Most of the time that’s groceries or potting soil, but at least if we ever did need a little hay, we’d be prepared.

Speaking of horses and cows. A “real” Texan just has to love horses and eat cows. We don’t have to own a horse or even be able to ride one… we just have to like them. Don’t worry, they are big, but they are easy to like. As for that eating cow, that’s a given. Not many Texans eat sheep and goats. They only eat lobster if it’s accompanied by a steak. And veganism is a sin… like voting liberal or leaving off the jalapenos.

I don’t have a horse or a hat or a rifle in the back of my pickup, but deep in my heart, I do. I’m proud of the Alamo saga and Ann Richards who was a proud governor of Texas and a culture that turned out Willie Nelson and Sam Houston. Some of the more famous Texans, like Davy Crocket and Jim Bowie adopted our state. They weren’t born here, but they got here as soon as they could.

We might talk too loud, brag too much, talk too slow, and lie about being born in Texas, but we love being Texans. Sorry for the rest of you.