Texas was a red and brown cigarette burn in the carpet of America. In the summers, the lakes near our home would recede leaving behind bleached skeletal systems of surprisingly large fish that weren't infused with enough instinct to swim for deeper waters. Lawns struggled and wilted, surviving only under the constant administrations of garden hoses and automated sprinkler systems. People scurried like vampires in the sun, ducking from one air conditioned building to another, never looking to the sky. Never needing to.
The attitude of Texans was something I didn't understand at first. You couldn't walk to the corner for beer without counting four bumper stickers that said "Don't Mess With Texas". You couldn't discuss politics without being told that Texas is the only state in the US with that maintains an option to secede from the Union. After a while, it occurred to me Texans are like children working up a bit of false pride over the ownership of an inferior item.
"I prefer the Atari 2600 over the new Nintendo because you can't play Yar's Revenge on Nintendo."
"I don't even like steak. I'm glad we're having liver."
"You know, the Yugo is an economical little car..."
When confronted with an intemperate ashtray of a state you either leave, or make up reasons to love the place. Texans are forced to make up all sorts of shit.
I've decided that I'm going to throw in occasional Texas stories from my past here and there as I go forward with this blog. Some will be mostly true, Some will be complete fabrications. You won't know the difference, and because so much time has passed, it's a real possibility I won't either.
If you do happen to read something that you can't believe I would have been a part of and you are disappointed in me, just know that you're reading lies. Besides, the difference fiction and nonfiction is just a matter of perspective.
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