For no reason whatsoever I am proud I am a Native Texan. Not a lot of people go around saying, I'm proud to be a Native New Yorker/Utahite/pick-your-state*.
And why don't they say that, You ask?
Because none of the other 49 are Texas, that's why.
Back in the mists of time, when I was thinking about having a kid (and I did give it serious consideration for like forty minutes at least), the one thing I knew for sure was I would fly back home to deliver so the poor bastard** would start life on the high note of being a Texan.
No one said I was rational.
A tune from the homegrown ZZTop, about a friendly little place in Central Texas. Yes, it was a real clapboard farm house with a vegetable garden. I passed it every time I drove between Po-Dunk and Austin during my college years:
* Except maybe those back-assed folks from Oklahoma -
"Imma Okie!" Seriously? Who would BRAG about that?
** Both descriptors would have been accurate, let's be honest.
No comments:
Post a Comment