Texas is actually pretty awesome, it's just this backwoods town that refuses to get into the 21st century.
Unfortunately, Texas is 98% "backwoods." I know... I lived there for some eight years. Sure, there are great cities, with mostly normal people, but unless you've been to Texas and spent some time there, I don't think you can really appreciate the enormity of the state. Try driving through it. Or better yet, try driving from El Paso to Houston in a day. Go ahead, I dare ya. I'm not sure it can be done, even if you eat and pee "on the fly."
Let me put it to you this way: Texas. Is. Huge. They have the big cities of Dallas, Austin, San Antonio and Houston (El Paso doesn't even really count because while large, it's at the very tip of the corner edge of the state. They were lucky to make in in at all, it's so far out there). In between these four (okay, fine... five) cities is either a vast amount of nothingness (that's from El Paso to anywhere) or thousands of tiny, obscure, backwoods towns. I'm not exaggerating.
There are a few things in life that get my ire up, and quickly. One is lying for the sake of lying, and the other is un-founded pride. When they say, "Everything's bigger in Texas," they aren't lying, but they are also including their sense of pride for no other reason than they feel they deserve to have it.
If you are not "from Texas," and by that I mean, born there and have a lineage of people you can point to, also born there, then you are looked upon with suspicion and disdain. I'm speaking of the 98% that is not one of the big five here, so don't write me if you live in a city and tell me I'm wrong. I spent my time there in small towns, not so much the big cities. I'm not wrong.
lo*cal: noun of or pertaining to a strict, unspoken qualification in order to be considered "Texan enough." If you do not meet these qualifications, you are not Texan, regardless of how many years you spent in that hell of a hole.
I can't tell you how many times I was having an otherwise pleasant conversation with some local (and by god, they're everywhere!) when they would ask the seemingly innocent question, "Y'all from around here?"
I was probably asked that questions hundreds of times. I was never, that I can recall, asked by anyone that lived in one of the four (alright dammit, five) cities. The body language of the inquirer never changed. The conversation always went like this, verbatim:
Local: Y'all from around here?
Me: Yes, we live down in the Summerside Division.
Local: (eyes narrow slightly) But are ya from around here?
Me: We moved here a few years ago. I'm originally from Oregon.
Local: (turns body slightly away from me, looks me up an down suspiciously, as if my non-nativeness might be catching)
Me: But my Great-Grandmother was born and raised here (here, meaning Texas, of course)
Local: (turns body back, ever-so-slightly; still looks at me suspiciously) Don' say....
The conversation always got really awkward and weird after that.
Did I meet good people there? Absolutely. Will they be life-long friends? I sincerely hope and believe so. Will I ever move back again? Gods that be, I hope not.
Is there a point to this post? Not really. I'm mostly just glad we finally escaped (yes, escaped) from that dreadful state. They can keep their spiders, poisonous snakes, scorpions, cactus, mesquite thorns, heat index, humidity and most of all, that damned Texas Pride. I will continue to shake my head sadly at those who get hyper-defensive when anything negative is said about "their" state.
And one last comment: Let 'em secede. Please.
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