Once a Texan, Not Always A Texan

I converted!

I have said that Texas is a state of mind, but I think it is more than that. It is a mystique closely approximating a religion. And this is true to the extent that people either passionately love Texas or passionately hate it and, as in other religions, few people dare to inspect it for fear of losing their bearings in mystery or paradox. But I think there will be little quarrel with my feeling that Texas is one thing. For all its enormous range of space, climate, and physical appearance, and for all the internal squabbles, contentions, and strivings, Texas has a tight cohesiveness perhaps stronger than any other section of America. Rich, poor, Panhandle, Gulf, city, country, Texas is the obsession, the proper study and the passionate possession of all Texans. ~John Steinbeck

Here it comes — my annual rant on Texas. Lately, it seems like as Texas goes, so goes the country. They’re trendsetters, alright — in all the wrong ways, most recently, abortion.

I’ll never understand why Texans love Texas so much. Mostly, it is a god-forsaken land — not pretty, not scenic, save for a bit of west Texas. The countryside is overgrown with mesquite trees that multiply like rabbits and suck up what little water they have, leaving the rest for prickly-pear cactus. The cities are ugly masses of steel and glass and 18-lane freeways. Perhaps the above quote helps to explain it.

I have the unfortunate distinction of having been born in Texas. But you don’t have to be the place you were born.

There’s a little-known law that’s called Common Law Residency. It says that you can divorce your birthplace if you want to, but you must live somewhere else for seven years.

I’m not fond of Texas. We left and moved to California when I was ten, where we remained until I graduated from high school. Eight years. Bam!

When people ask me where I’m from, the answer will entirely depend on who’s asking and how long we’ve known each other. If it’s a short time, a man on the street, or someone I want to impress, I’ll say Chicago.

If it’s someone from New Mexico, where I presently live, it will absolutely be Chicago. New Mexico hates Texas. And lately, not crazy about Californians. Texans use New Mexico to get to Vegas or Colorado, maybe Cali. We’re just a drive-through state to them.

We ought to have toll booths to collect transit taxes from Texans. We could use the money to build tiny homes to replace the tent cities in Albuquerque.

Other Texans drive up the price of housing by paying over-market prices for homes in Santa Fe. There is no affordable housing there.

They’re also messing up our unofficial state language, Spanglish. Doesn’t “bueno, bye” sound much better than “bueno y’all!”

When a Texan asks where I’m from, I’ll probably say New Mexico, which would make them envious, especially if I said I’m from Santa Fe.

If a person asks me where I’m from, and they’re from my hometown of Abilene, I’ll probably say that’s where I’m from, and then we can start playing the game. “Do you know X?” “What street did you live on?” “What school did you attend?”

I spoke a lazy West Texas drawl when we moved to California. I promptly read a book called “How to Get Rid of Your Accent in 30 Days Or Less” until the words “boss” and “bitchin” became a part of my vocabulary. And it was no longer “y’all” but rather “you guys.”

Texas, I feel disappointed. And I do take it personally.

Before 1979, the last Republican governor of Texas had left office in 1869. That’s one hundred ten years of Democratic rule! Of course, back then, they were segregationists. Republicans have had a stranglehold on the governorship since 1979, except for Ann Richards, who served from 1991 through 1995, the best four years the state has seen since.

Greg-fucking-Abbott has been at the helm for three terms now, and why? Because there are no gubernatorial term limits in Texas. If Trump wanted to hold an office forever, he should have run for governor of Texas. He would have been elected and reelected. But I wouldn’t wish that on my friends there. They’re democrats. Bless their hearts.

How a Democrat Might Win an Election in Texas

Thinking back on who could have been a good Democrat to run Texas (or the nation, for that matter), I begin with Henry Cisneros. He was a four-term mayor of San Antonio, then Texas’ third-largest city and the country’s tenth (now second and seventh, respectively). Bill Clinton appointed him as Secretary of HUD. But as is the downfall of many men, he let his dick do the walking and got himself into a heap of trouble.

I had high hopes for either of the Castro brothers, twins Julian and Joaquin. Julian’s ascent closely mirrored that of Cisneros. He was a three-time mayor of San Antonio and became Secretary of HUD under President Obama. Julian delivered a moving keynote address at the 2012 Democratic National Convention, and by 2020, he was campaigning for the Office of the President. His downfall came during the third presidential debate when he was called out on playing the ageism card against President Joe Biden.

He should have been our President now, and we wouldn’t be in the mess we find ourselves in.

Julian’s brother Joaquin was never the mayor of San Antonio nor a presidential candidate but has served as Texas’ 20th District congressional representative in the United States House of Representatives since 2013. So far, we’ve seen no presidential aspirations from Joaquin.

Finally, there was Beto O’Rourke. A former U.S. Congressman from El Paso, he, too, took a stab at running for President in 2020. It was a long shot, but it was refreshing to see younger candidates like Castro and O’Rourke running for office. He narrowly lost against Ted Cruz in the 2018 Senate race. O’Rourke wagered a campaign against Abbott and the Republican establishment in Texas in his 2022 gubernatorial campaign, which he lost by 11 points.

And now the state has fucks like Ken Paxton. He ought to be behind bars. Instead, he and Abbutt are working hard to unseat all of those Republicans who have voted against their backward programs and not otherwise supported them.

Beto was the last best hope for change.

It’s The Politicians, Stupid! And Those That Elected Them.

Texas may contain four of the country’s ten largest cities but is still a rural state. There are 254 counties in Texas. The only counties that can be relied on for a democratic outcome are those with the largest cities: Dallas, Houston, San Antonio, Austin, and El Paso. Also, counties in the Lower Rio Grande Valley, including Brownsville, Harlingen, McAllen, and Laredo metro areas. Tarrant County (containing Fort Worth) is not reliably blue but purple at best.

All that’s needed to put more democrats in office in Texas are wins in the medium-sized metropolitan counties, such as Corpus Christi, Lubbock, Amarillo, Killeen, and Midland. That’s all. If I were a state democratic candidate, that’s where I would focus my efforts.

I’d also knock on the doors of suburban Texas women. The cities may be blue, but the suburbs are red. Churches are well-attended, so concentrate on non-Evangelical denominations. Even though their numbers are large, don’t even bother with Southern Baptists and members of the Church of Christ. They’re unbendable. These are the types that think Trump is the second coming of Christ.

Trump is not a religious man! He does not go to church! I just don’t get it.

Listen (as I grab you by the shoulders): There were glimmers of hope. You had a Democratic female governor, Ann Richards. You had a two-term mayor of the fourth largest city in the country, Annise Parker of Houston, who was also gay. That must have been too much for the macho men of Texas. But like anywhere, just look at the gay hookup sites in Texas. They’re as full of straight men looking for dick as in any other state.

And they’re probably good Christians who would never cheat on their wives! Snicker.

Ted Cruz hasn’t done anything embarrassing lately other than being Ted Cruz, but his term in the Senate is up soon. Currently, there are two democrat frontrunners: Colin Allred and Roland Gutierrez.

Allred, from Dallas, is a former NFL football player and a civil rights attorney elected to Congress in 2018. Guiterrez is an immigration lawyer and has been in the Texas state legislature since 2008. Both have similar philosophical views on guns, immigration, and abortion. Either, or anyone else in the position, would be a delight!

Texas Was a Long Time Ago in My Life

I’m in Texas as I’m writing this, which probably spurred the article. I can’t help it if this is where I was born.

I didn’t ask to be born!

I’ve lived in several states since then.

I worry about my Mom. At 91, and seemingly the only Democrat in Tom Green County, she can’t be depended on to carry the torch much longer.

It was a good place to grow up, but I remember it best as being full of sticky things. Some yards had “stickers.” Running around the neighborhood barefoot didn’t help. There were the mesquite thorns, one of which went right through one of my shoes into my foot. The shoe had to be cut off to be removed. I was once curious about what a prickly pear cactus would feel like. And horny toads, now endangered, ran abundant.

There are a few good people in Texas. Though I’m not a fan of Tex-Mex, you won’t find better barbecue than in Texas, especially the brisket. Chicken fried steak, the state’s “national food,” was a gift. Try it!

Sticky, hot, and humid. And they call it God’s Country. My God has much better taste than that.

And if you were wondering if Common Law Residency is a thing, it isn’t. Darn it.

More from Arthur Keith:

Author’s Note: I have a 270-plus story back catalog of articles dealing with subjects I like to write about, and I hope you’ll find something that piques your interest. They include aviation, music, geography, gardening, pop culture, LGBTQ culture, The Southwest/Megadrought/The Colorado River, and my late son. I often weave my journey into each. It’s worth $5/month or $50/year to read stories from all the great writers on Medium.com. Consider it like your own magazine!