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clavus · 09-23-2005, 10:07 AM

Why don’t I care about the hurricane in Texas?

As of this writing, the hurricane has not hit. Millions are evacuating, death and destruction is just around the corner for my fellow countrymen. And yet, I feel the same low-level concern as I would for a train-wreck in India.

“Hmm…That’s too bad. Those poor people.”

Then I move on to feeling terrible about the people in Louisiana and Mississippi.

But why? I know people in Texas. I like people in Texas. I’ve been to Texas, and it beats the shit out of a lot of other places in the USA. Yet, my Give-A-Fuck meter is just barely moving.

Here is what I think is happening. Throughout my life I have encountered the stereotypical Texan. You’ve met him too. He never misses a chance to tell you how great Texas is, and how much better it is than wherever you happen to live. He has a Texas tattoo, avatar, T-Shirt, and/or bumper-sticker. He makes sure that you know that Texas independent, the USA is lucky to have TX as a part of it, and that at any time TX may just decide to go it alone. Texas is an economic, cultural, and military powerhouse that is better than any other place in the whole world.

No other state generates this sort of attitude. I’ve never had a stranger in bar start raving about how amazing Iowa is. I’ve never seen a Louisiana tattoo. The fine folks of Georgia don’t slap me on the back and holler “Don’t mess with Georgia!”

It goes beyond local pride. It is an attitude of superiority. Of exclusion. The stereotypical Texan is convinced that he and I are not of the same tribe. And to my surprise, when I look into my heart, maybe I believe him.

And then there is the God thing. Of course not ALL Texans are conservative Christians, but there are no lines in Texas supermarkets on Sunday mornings. God seems to play a big role in the Texas attitude. From the hole in the Dallas Stadium (So God can look down and see the star on the 50 yard line) to the prayers before business meetings, God is there. And the stereotypical Texan tells you that God loves Texas like no other place.

So here is Texas, staring straight at one of God’s creations – a CAT5 hurricane. And I’m thinking about all the times I’ve been told that Texas doesn’t need anybody or anything; that Texas can take care of itself. Well, after all these years of talking the talk, it’s time to walk the walk.

I wish you all the best. But my heart is in New Orleans.

I will now sit back and get flamed by the Lone Star TFPers. I fear I have committed the cardinal sin: I messed with Texas.

09-23-2005, 10:07 AM	#1 (permalink)
clavus pow! Location: NorCal	Texas (yawn) Why don’t I care about the hurricane in Texas? As of this writing, the hurricane has not hit. Millions are evacuating, death and destruction is just around the corner for my fellow countrymen. And yet, I feel the same low-level concern as I would for a train-wreck in India. “Hmm…That’s too bad. Those poor people.” Then I move on to feeling terrible about the people in Louisiana and Mississippi. But why? I know people in Texas. I like people in Texas. I’ve been to Texas, and it beats the shit out of a lot of other places in the USA. Yet, my Give-A-Fuck meter is just barely moving. Here is what I think is happening. Throughout my life I have encountered the stereotypical Texan. You’ve met him too. He never misses a chance to tell you how great Texas is, and how much better it is than wherever you happen to live. He has a Texas tattoo, avatar, T-Shirt, and/or bumper-sticker. He makes sure that you know that Texas independent, the USA is lucky to have TX as a part of it, and that at any time TX may just decide to go it alone. Texas is an economic, cultural, and military powerhouse that is better than any other place in the whole world. No other state generates this sort of attitude. I’ve never had a stranger in bar start raving about how amazing Iowa is. I’ve never seen a Louisiana tattoo. The fine folks of Georgia don’t slap me on the back and holler “Don’t mess with Georgia!” It goes beyond local pride. It is an attitude of superiority. Of exclusion. The stereotypical Texan is convinced that he and I are not of the same tribe. And to my surprise, when I look into my heart, maybe I believe him. And then there is the God thing. Of course not ALL Texans are conservative Christians, but there are no lines in Texas supermarkets on Sunday mornings. God seems to play a big role in the Texas attitude. From the hole in the Dallas Stadium (So God can look down and see the star on the 50 yard line) to the prayers before business meetings, God is there. And the stereotypical Texan tells you that God loves Texas like no other place. So here is Texas, staring straight at one of God’s creations – a CAT5 hurricane. And I’m thinking about all the times I’ve been told that Texas doesn’t need anybody or anything; that Texas can take care of itself. Well, after all these years of talking the talk, it’s time to walk the walk. I wish you all the best. But my heart is in New Orleans. I will now sit back and get flamed by the Lone Star TFPers. I fear I have committed the cardinal sin: I messed with Texas. __________________ Ass, gas or grass. Nobody rides for free.