What's Good About Texas?

Thor:: My type-A-personality brother came up with the title question. He's challenging me to say something nice. I can be nice. If properly motivated. In this case the motivation is his promise to shut the heck up, sit still and quit flitting about for the rest of the afternoon. Texas has its faults, although it's pretty easy to get beaten up if one initiates a discussion on this topic and has left one's hammer at home. Texas has daylight saving time. While most of the US share this character flaw, it is, nevertheless, a character flaw. So the first nice thing about Texas is that it's no worse than anywhere else, at least in regard to setting clocks in the Summer.

When we first moved to Texas, folks warned us of the heat. "Aw, shucks, we used to have a week of 100 degrees every Summer in Nebraska", we'd say. Guess what. A week of 100 degrees is one thing. A week of 100 degrees after having one's brain melted for the previous 2 months of 100 degrees is a very different thing. The second good thing about Texas? We have air conditioning. When we lived up North, there was the annual endurance contest to see who could set the latest "We won't turn on the AC til" date. May 31st is a common choice. It's an idea that works in Indiana and Boston. But there are folk here in Austin who run their heaters in the morning and switch over to AC in the afternoon when it hits 80 degrees outside. We used to make fun of them, but we've joined the club now. Coming out of the hardware store, we remote start our cars, which have the AC set on "Full Arctic Blast", so that by the time we've waded through the liquid asphalt, we have a chance of not needing the asbestos gloves.

Finally, Texas is not France. Not being France is one of the loftier goals to which a political entity can aspire. But not only is Texas not France, it's bigger than France. In both area and military might. (Actually, I think Belize could give France a fair drubbing.) I'd say I've kept my half of the bargain.

Tyr: So my hammer-hefting wombmate offers the following three things as "nice" comments about Texas: 1. He finds himself no more grumpy about DST here than elsewhere, 2. There's a remedy for the unbearable heat and humidity, and 3. A left-handed complement which is really an insult to France, a delightful place of which I have many fond memories. He was griping, as usual, about sweating faster than he could chug Gatorade, and all I said was "What would it take for you to say 3 nice things about Texas?" and he starts going off on me.

I know full well that he loves it here, and not for the three non-reasons above. The best thing about Texas is the Mexican (and Tex-Mex) food. The French think they know something about cuisine, but nothing compares to the nectar these Mexican cooks put out. We both like it hot. I have some sauce in my fridge which isn't really food in the usual sense of the word, by which I mean a human being shouldn't consume it. I used it successfully as a solvent the time Thor epoxied my sword to the toilet seat. One drop in a can of Wolf's Chili will keep a guy regular for a week. Two drops and one discovers that one has taste buds on one's butt. And be sure and wash your hands really well before rubbing your eye.....or peeing.

Having been raised on German food, which is good, if somewhat square, the introduction to Tex-Mex was sure a revelation to us. I suppose it's similar to trading in your frigid British wife on a pair of hot Latino twins. A guy just has to admit that it's better, even if it's likely to kill him.

Another swell thing about Texas is the sentence "George Dubya used to be the governor here." Talk about a win-win scenerio. The republicans are happy to have their local boy do good. The democrats (and other miscellaneous parties) rejoice in emphasizing the words "used to be." Everyone's happy in Texas.

As far as the heat goes, the best advice we ever got about any subject whatsoever was given us by our first Texas pastor: "Aw, just pay it." The meaning here was "Don't try to be cheap when it comes to air conditioning.
Yes, it'll cost about $400 a month for six months of the year. Don't be stupid, just pay it." It took only 1/2 a Summer to drive this excellent bit of wisdom into our thick skulls.

In summary: Tex-Mex: Good. Getting kicked out of the same bar as Dubya's daughters, but for a different reason: Priceless.

Prosit,
Tyr and Thor