Things You Should Know About Texas
ane. Bluebonnets
Yes, they are a clichè. And no, they don't smell particularly skillful, and you lot aren't supposed to choice them on the highway, under penalization of something like decease. Yous can get stung past bees or burn ants and God knows what else when you sit down down for that annual photograph. Even so, who tin can resist them? Every year, the fields along the roadsides bloom into a blanket of bluish—in some parts a deep purple, in others a dusty gray—and we know spring is here. And and so, in just a few weeks, the show is over. The fields go from green to dark-brown, and the sun scorches the roads, and we speed from San Antonio to Houston again, claiming there'south naught to see. Mimi Swartz
2. The Astrodome
As a baseball stadium, it had its shortcomings—foremost amongst them Astroturf—simply there was a time when it was second only to the Alamo as the most of import edifice in Texas. Houston in the early sixties yearned for recognition but, aside from NASA, had piddling to concenter it. The Astrodome put Houston on the map. It was the manifestation of a Texas attitude that we could do something that everyone else thought impossible. Now information technology's a reminder that all things must pass. Paul Burka
3. Big Red
With barbecue. But non past itself, and not with anything else. John Morthland
4. Friendliness
Being glad to come across you—no matter who yous are—is something our mamas taught us from birth. The wide smile, the firm handshake, the slap on the dorsum—it's the mode Texans come across the world, the social grease that makes living hither so pleasant and easy. Most of us were probably a little older before we realized that all that good sense of humour had other uses; information technology masks intention and throws people off their game, specially lawyers and businessmen from other parts of the country who error usa for happy hicks. Glad to see you? Sure nosotros are. But continue your hands on your wallets, guys. Mimi Swartz
v. The sopa azteca at El Mirador, San Antonio
Available just on Saturdays. Mimi Swartz
6. Booker Ervin'due south version of "Berkshire Blues"
A classic cut by the tardily, great tenor saxophonist, who hailed from Denison. It never fails to put me in a good mood. Or make me regret that I quit smoking. Evan Smith
seven. Anybody has a story almost a pickup
Mine is called Ol' Blueish, a babe-blue 1977 Chevrolet Scottsdale three-quarter-ton with mud grips, dual gas tanks, and a Delco set to a station that plays land music and the farm report. With subtle hints of hay, pesticide, WD-twoscore, chain saw gas, and manure, the cab has a genuinely rural smell, and the sides are scratched and dented, grill to tailgate, from years of deflecting tree limbs and mesquite thorns. Ol' Blue lives on the farm that my father, a lawyer by trade, bought as a weekend hobby in the seventies. When I was a child, my dad would drive and I would ride in the passenger seat. We'd caput downwards the steep and rough road to the pecan bottom that sits on the Little River, near Temple, or to the back side of the farm, where in that location's a stock tank one-half-circled with tall cottonwood trees. Sometimes I'd ride in the bed, and nosotros'd stop every once in a while to look at a snake, an armadillo, or a cottontail. Every bit I grew older and busy with teenage distractions, I lost interest in the farm. Yet, my father would enquire me to ride out with him to check on things; if there was trouble or concern, he would insist. Until his death, in 1998, the invitation was standing. Only recently did I realize that what he was checking on had very picayune to do with farming. Not often plenty, for those few hours, it was me, my attention, and my dad, undivided in the cab of Ol' Blue. David Courtney
viii. The free advice at White Stone Lake, Dallas
If yous live in Dallas and have a question—any question—then you know the drill: Go up on Sunday morning, stroll effectually White Stone Lake until you come to Jackson Point, and look for the sign "Free Communication." That'southward where accommodating-expert-guys Neal Caldwell and Roderick MacElwain accept been waiting in their lawn chairs for the past ten years. Stock tips? Got 'em. Career trouble? No trouble. Romantic quandary? Pull upwardly a seat.
To recollect: Even Lucy charged a nickel. Brian D. Sweany
ix. The humidity
It was August, a swampy, monsoonish August, when I moved from Albuquerque to Austin. I was living nearly the University of Texas campus in a co-op boarding house where mildew appeared on my shoes and toothbrushes never dried. For a desert girl, information technology was like living in a blister. 1 actress-sweaty twenty-four hour period at dinner a fellow resident, a girl from Houston, bounced in and announced in a preternaturally perky tone, "Y'all, don't y'all just looove Austin? It'south so dryyyy here!" Well, I didn't only looove Austin then and it wasn't dryyyy. It was weeeeet. But the years laissez passer and the skin shrivels into beef hasty and the hair flattens to the shape and consistency of a thatched roof and yous do come to looove Austin precisely considering it is not dryyyy. In fact, you exalt every molecule of Lone Star wet as it goes about its blessed piece of work of plumping upward skin and hair. I know, I know. Vast desiccated swaths of our country are every bit dry out as anything New Mexico can dehydrate. But withal, for me, in my by and large moist corner of Texas, it actually isn't the heat. It is the humidity. Sarah Bird
10. Barton Springs Pool, Austin
Information technology's only rocks and water—but as the Hope Diamond is only squeezed carbon and the Mona Lisa is only oil paint on forest. Only in a burst of creative genius, triggered past a shift in the Balcones Mistake, the earth partnered these apprehensive materials in a geologic magic human action that has wowed aboriginal people and Franciscans, deep thinkers and humorists, blue-lipped toddlers and topless hippie chicks, endangered salamanders and political activists. All—except possibly the salamanders—stare into the articulate, green depths, test the temperature with a toe (even though everyone knows it'due south always 68 degrees), shudder, then take the plunge into the centre-stopping chill, trying to absorb a smidgen of the irrefutable grace of this place. Suzy Banks
11. Nachos
They are as Texan as the Alamo, and they have gone where no snack has gone before. I have personally eaten or seen nachos made with (non all at in one case, heed you) lobster tail, feta cheese, portobello mushrooms, fried oysters, crème fraîche, beef fajitas, caviar, hummus, hoisin sauce, crabmeat, Napa cabbage, barbecue sauce, boiled shrimp, chipotle mayonnaise, soy sauce, chili, and tofu—whew! And whatsoever the permutation, their Platonic nacho-ness remained intact. Patricia Sharpe
12. The three bells at Mission San Francisco de la Espada, San Antonio
The simple facade of the oldest, smallest, and most remote of San Antonio'southward 5 missions centers on a Moorish door frame, and above the door stands a tower with three bells. Every Sunday those bells phone call parishioners, many of whom are the descendants of the natives who built the missions, to worship in the white stucco chapel. The ringing of those bells reminds me that three centuries ago Texas was a modest, rebellious Mexican province and in some ways still is. The past is non afar at Espada. Already, lx percent of the people of San Antonio are Mexican American, an easy bulk. Before long, a majority of all Texans will exist Latinos. The three bells at Espada toll not just for our by simply for our present and our future. Jan Jarboe Russell
13. Keller'southward Drive-in, Dallas
The flashing crimson-and-light-green sign on Northwest Highway is every bit high-tech every bit it gets. No Sonic technology has elbowed its way in over the by four decades; heck, at Keller's you still accept to pay with cash. Simply park under a metallic carport that sags with age and turn on your blinkers when you're ready to lodge (I propose the no. five special, a double-meat cheeseburger for only $ii.70). A carhop will be out in an instant. Don't forget to spring for onion rings and a cold canteen of beer, and leave your window upwardly only a flake for the tray. And then relax and take in the crowd, which includes biker clubs and classic-car enthusiasts. Your food will be set up in no time, simply with all of the sideshows, it's almost beside the bespeak. Brian D. Sweany
14. The heaven
And no one captures the clouds and lightning strikes, sunsets and stars better than photographer Wyman Meinzer, whose new book, Betwixt Heaven and Texas (University of Texas Press), was published in March.
15. The Alamo Drafthouse
This theater chain, with locations in Austin, Houston, and San Antonio and plans to expand, proves that the style to a cinephile's centre is through his stomach—and his liver. By serving better-than-passable nutrient and alcohol before and during whatever's showing and by perfecting an indie sensibility that's evident not only in what'due south playing (a mix of art house fare and Hollywood must-sees) just what's playing before the testify (archival video, hip cartoons, trailers for movies that were released decades ago), the Alamo has won fans on this coast as well as the other ii, including the editors of Entertainment Weekly, who christened it "the best theater in America." My favorite Alamo-ism: the on-screen admonition before every evidence that patrons should keep their mouths closed and their prison cell phone ringers off or "we'll take your ass out." Permit'south run into the theater in the mall try that. Evan Smith
16. Larry McMurtry
For Horseman, Pass By and The Last Moving-picture show Show and his debunking of J. Frank Dobie—simply because he was ornery and talented and he could. For Terms of Endearment and sneering at the unabridged myth of Texas—only and then to win the Pulitzer with Lonesome Dove. For recreating Archer City with his outlandish bookstore—merely to threaten to close information technology (the shop and the town) down. When he won a Golden World for Brokeback Mountain a few months back, someone who introduced him called him a genius; the camera happened to land on Johnny Depp, whose nostrils flared to contain his yawn. And so Larry was up there attributing everything wonderful in life to buying a manual typewriter from Europe, sparing himself the computer revolution. And when he received his Oscar in March for all-time adapted screenplay, he wore jeans and boots. One of a kind. Jan Reid
17. Dallas Cowboys fanaticism
Their seasons are our renewal, our life cycles. The residual of the year is pretty much a waste, waiting for the first offset of fall. This is such a solid franchise that even Jerry Jones hasn't been able to mess it up. Gary Cartwright
18. Medina to Leakey on Ranch-to-Market place Road 337
Have this drive on a Sunday afternoon in October. Trust me. Brian D. Sweany
nineteen. The county courthouse
When I'grand on the route, I make information technology a bespeak to drive into county seats I haven't previously visited and view the local courthouse. Texas has some magnificent ones, which is not surprising, since nosotros have 254 counties and some of them should be expected to get it right. My favorite is Alfred Giles' Second Empire courthouse in Marfa. Everything well-nigh it is perfect—the proportions, the pastel-peach exterior, the restored dome, the rotunda inside, the town surrounding it. Some other Giles gem is in Lockhart. James Riely Gordon is the near prolific architect; his masterpiece is in Waxahachie. Paul Burka
20. Mexican border towns
Okay, they're violent and dangerous now, simply you had to see them through the optics of a young homo for whom cheap liquor and cheap thrills were the essence of freedom. In the words of Billy Joe Shaver, "that border-crossing feeling makes a fool out of a man …" May it ever be so. Gary Cartwright
21. Lubbock
A large university, Texas Tech, sets Lubbock apart from kindred cities on the plains, merely its soul is music. Folks withal talk of Buddy Holly styling through the Hello-D-Ho drive-in in a pink Caddy convertible with four girlfriends. In his wake came Joe Ely, Jimmie Dale Gilmore, Waylon Jennings, Butch Hancock, Terry Allen, Angela Strehli, Jesse Taylor, Ponty Bone, Lloyd Maines. Now a coveted and decorated tape producer in Austin, Maines used to take his quiet teenage daughter out to watch him play steel guitar in Ely'due south band. In the blink of a generation'south eye, Natalie Maines was belting out number one country hits—and yes, sassing the president—as a member of the Dixie Chicks. Sprouting talent similar mesquite, Lubbock is Texas'southward absurd and homely subcapital out due west. Jan Reid
22. The spring-fed swimming pool at Balmorhea State Park, Balmorhea
The last fourth dimension we were in that location, on a summer trip through nearby Marfa, we tried to take the film for our Christmas card: me jumping in, so my wife, Julia, our daughter, Carson, and finally our son, Wyatt. Dad and Mom obliged, and so did large sister, but the normally fearless lilliputian guy, all iv and a one-half years and 35-odd pounds of him, couldn't bring himself to practice it. And why would he? The temperature in this 77,000-square-foot, 25-foot-deep, iii.5-meg-gallon puddle, which was built by FDR's Noncombatant Conservation Corps before World War 2, is consistently on the quite-cold side of refreshing, even in the scorching heat. The algae-covered pool bottom is the slipperiest on world. And there are the creatures: endangered species of fish and turtles, which swim right nether and alongside and through you. We never got that picture—well, we did; the three of us in midair and him peering skeptically over the side—but we had a great time, equally we always do. Balmorhea is, not merely spiritually but literally, an oasis in the desert. Evan Smith
23. 8 a.m., weekdays, Las Manitas Avenue Buffet, Austin
Because every big-time urban center needs a identify where power breakfasters tin feed their need for gossip, schmooze, and the ritual taking intendance of business. This Tex-Mex cafe is owned by Cynthia and Lidia Perez, Henry Cisneros's sisters-in-police force, who are unabashedly bluer than the Danube, simply the crowd of lawmakers and lobbyists and lawyers and media blowhards who assemble here is absolutely bipartisan; Karen Hughes and Karl Rove, among others, were semi-regulars dorsum in the day. At the moment, you'll accept to elbow state-senator-to-be Kirk Watson, People for the American Style statewide director Deece Eckstein, and Rick Perry'south quondam legislative manager Hector Gutierrez out of the manner to get i of the prized booths; lotsa luck. As well: The food is terrific. Evan Smith [Editor'southward Note: Las Manitas Avenue Cafe closed in 2008.]
24. Cherry Cherry-red And Star Ruby Grapefruit
No other grapefruit is worth all the rigmarole required to prep information technology for eating. John Morthland
25. The size of our ranches
King Ranch (825,000 acres). Briscoe Ranches (640,000 acres). Waggoner Ranch (524,000 acres). We could keep. Paul Burka
26. The downtown Neiman Marcus, Dallas
This is still the holiest site of Dallas's religion of shopping, and in those halcyon days of "Mr. Stanley" Marcus'southward impeccable gustation and legendary customer service, it was less a finishing schoolhouse for the nouveau riche than a secular temple where a generation of Texans whose wealth still came out of the land threw themselves on the altar of style, seeking redemption for the sins of vulgarity and boorish backlog. The miracle of Neiman Marcus is that they found absolution and, from this sacred place, an entire city moved manner-forward to go a fashionable retail mecca. Michael Ennis
27. The World Championship Barbeque Goat Cook-Off, Brady
Established 33 years ago partly as a joke—Brady was struggling to find a civic-celebration theme other towns hadn't already taken—this Sat-of-Labor-Day-weekend blowout maintains a great sense of humour near itself. To say nothing of producing pounds and pounds of lean, succulent, smoky child goat that goes downward rich, smoothen, and easy; the overall level of the entries is unusually high for an open cook-off. (Meanwhile, most regions of America don't fifty-fifty know yet that you tin can eat goat …) John Morthland
28. The Broken Spoke, Austin
Long before Austin began dubbing itself the Live Music Upper-case letter of the World, this honky-tonk was busy playing host to the best country acts in the world—upwardly-and-comers like Willie Nelson and George Strait, progressive cowboys like Asleep at the Bike, and later still, alt-country rockers like the Derailers. These days the Cleaved Spoke still features live music five nights a week, and you tin can dance on a waxed concrete floor, potable longneck beer, and eat chicken-fried steak. Check out the Tourist Trap Room, where you tin can see pictures and hats from celebs who've popped in and onto the stage, from Dolly Parton to Kris Kristofferson. The latest addition to the club are new rear walls, courtesy of the tour coach driver who accidentally floored her passenger vehicle into the interior of the club ane night in October. The Spoke is proof that if a classic honky-tonk stays open long enough, annihilation can happen. Michael Hall
29. Sunsets at Enchanted Rock, nearly Llano
As you lot arroyo it from the northward on RM 965, Enchanted Rock looks as if a baldheaded giant were poking his head out of the basis. The pinkish granite dome rises 425 anxiety, covers 640 acres, and is only begging to exist climbed. The hike is by no means a cinch, but almost anyone can get in with enough volition and a comfortable pair of shoes. And nothing rewards the effort like resting on the windswept meridian as the sunday falls in the west. On a articulate evening, equally the stars begin to shine, it's equally though the unabridged Hill State below you lot has become soaked in orange calorie-free and deepening shadow. You lot'll never accept sunsets for granted again. Brian D. Sweany
xxx. Lady Bird's daffodils
As a daughter, the futurity Lady Bird Johnson, whose mother died when she was five years and 9 months old, took long walks in the piney wood around her hometown of Karnack. Every leap, when Lady Bird spotted the first daffodil in bloom, she held a private anniversary and named the flower Queen. It was a solitary ritual, a game that provided solace and left Lady Bird hungry for beauty. Years later, during her five years as first lady, Lady Bird supervised the planting of 2 million daffodil bulbs in Washington, D.C., the largest planting of daffodils in history. I never see the first daffodil of bound that I don't run into the beauty of all that I have lost. Jan Jarboe Russell
31. Boca Chica
The name says it all—"Boca Chica" sounds exotic but means "small mouth" in Spanish—and the spot where the one time-mighty Rio Grande flows quietly into the Gulf speaks to how frail the international border is. The stretch of beach remains undisturbed—no showers, no restrooms, no improvements of any kind. And within shouting distance are Mexicans on their side of the river doing exactly what yous're doing: splashing in the water, soaking up the lord's day, and hands straddling cultures. Brian D. Sweany
32. San Jacinto
Okay, permit'due south admit it. The park doesn't really piece of work. The monument to Texas's independence is an all-too-obvious try to top the height of the Washington Monument. The battlefield is not evocative, and the battle itself is difficult to envision. And the site is surrounded by one of the ugliest industrial landscapes this side of New Jersey. In the cease, though, the only matter that matters is that considering of what happened here, Texas is a state that was once—and always—a nation, and that makes all the difference. Paul Burka
33. Buckle Bunnies
See Photo. Photo is non available online.
34. The caverns of Sonora
Reading the billboards forth Interstate 10, yous suspect a archetype tourist trap. And then you get inside these desert caves and realize you're seeing things you won't detect anywhere else. With its unprecedented preponderance of helictites—neither stalactites nor stalagmites but growths that twist and turn out from the caves' walls—nearly every inch of Sonora, not just the floors and ceilings, bursts with complex colors and formations. And different the trails in most show caves, Sonora'south put y'all correct on top of information technology all. The guides have an infectious enthusiasm and a singular take on things that's just equally rare. John Morthland
35. Tejano dancing
My first attempt at tejano dancing occurred in the name of enquiry. I was a college senior writing about music and identity, and so it fabricated sense that I should learn. Several spins effectually a vast trip the light fantastic toe floor in San Antonio had me doing the tejano update of the tlacuachito, a Mexican American dance class that emerged in the thirties. With the modernization of conjunto music into tejano, a younger Mexican American generation added countrylike moves and made the tlacuachito a sleeker affair. University of Texas professor of American literature and anthropology Jose Limón describes it this way: "The idea is non to skip, hop, and bound or pump our arms, as Anglos often practise when they attempt this dance." With the waning of the tejano music industry, at that place are now fewer clubs to go for a dance, although a resurgence in conjunto music has led to the reopening of long-defunct dance halls. However, I wistfully remember those days of endless spinning around the floor and the way that life then felt so whole and perfectly composed. Cecilia Balli
36. Cat Osterman
Equally a Longhorn senior, the tall, circular-cheeked softball pitcher from Houston is still in quest of a national championship at Texas. But concluding year she had a record of 30-seven, with an ERA of 0.36. In her iii seasons with the Longhorns she's thrown fifteen no-hitters and averaged fifteen strikeouts a game. Plus she led the United states of america to a gold medal in the 2004 Olympics. Texas is known for its fastballers: Clemens, Ryan, Street. Merely because she's left-handed and will have a short career—prospects for a postal service-collegiate league are not bright, and the sport won't be in the Olympics after 2008—I liken her to Sandy Koufax. Players go to the plate against her feeling as if they accept a toothpick in their easily, not a bat. Jan Reid [Editor's Note: Cat Osterman went on to become a ii-time Olympian, iii-fourth dimension National Player of the Twelvemonth, and 4-fourth dimension All American softball bullpen.]
37. The Pecos Rodeo
Although Pecos (population: 9,501) is hidden away in Reeves County, in far West Texas, professional rodeo cowboys from effectually the country still make the long trip to compete at the onetime arena on the last weekend in June, in part because of tradition (Pecos could very well have hosted the globe's first rodeo, in 1883) and as well because the small and often struggling Pecos businesses nevertheless raise about $200,000 each yr for the prize coin. I affair that makes Pecos's rodeo weekend really special is the rodeo parade, peradventure the greatest commemoration of old-fashioned American patriotism you'll ever run into. Skip Hollandsworth
38. Nutrient
My favorite? Definitely the lemon meringue pot at Flash, in Austin. And the truffled egg custard in an eggshell at Aurora, in Dallas. Oh, also the goat cheese appetizer with morita-chile-and-Mexican-dark-brown-saccharide sauce at Liberty Bar, in San Antonio. And absolutely the dry-Jack-cheese-crusted lemon sole with citrus beurre blanc at Hibiscus, in Dallas. But wait: the Parmesan-topped focaccia at Taverna in Austin and Dallas. And I could not possibly live without the enchiladas de Michoacán at Las Manitas, in Austin. Or the Don Mamón salmon ceviche at Cerise Onion Seafood y Más, in Houston. And the posole at Rosario's, in San Antonio. Oh, oh, oh—the saag paneer at Indika, in Houston. And yes, the dark-green-chile-chicken enchiladas at El Asadero, in Fort Worth. And … Patricia Sharpe
39. Donald Judd's installations, Marfa
When I first visited Marfa more than than xx years agone, the late Don Judd had been there for more than a decade and was still installing the planet's most advanced objects in an abandoned cavalry outpost. It was a rare risk to meet history in the making, because Judd'due south Minimalist monuments are already venerable masterpieces of twentieth-century art. Merging the factory with the sculptor'south atelier, Judd filled the old armories with rows of precisely machined aluminum boxes and arrayed a procession of hard-edged physical megaliths beyond a half-mile of desert similar a futuristic, in-line Stonehenge. Years earlier Marfa enjoyed its current trendiness, global tastemakers made the pilgrimage to W Texas and returned dwelling to invest everything from architecture to furniture to retail blueprint with Judd's austere, industrialized, notwithstanding transcendent aesthetic. In this tiny boondocks, Judd didn't merely change the mode the world looks at fine art; he inverse the way the world looks. Michael Ennis
forty. The Texas Legislature
When it is good it is seldom very practiced, and when information technology is bad it is horrid. Paul Burka
41. Our own way of pronouncin'
Manchaca = Man-shack
Mexia = Ma-hay-ah
Palestine = Pal-es-teen
Miami = My-am-ah
Humble = Um-bull
Burnet = Fire-it
Iraan = I-ra-ann
Manor = May-ner
Refugio = Ruh-fyur-ee-o
Christopher Keyes
42. Big Hill
For many years this steep germination prevented El Camino del Rio, the river road (FM 170), from connecting Lajitas and Presidio. Even with the road, this is one of the nigh isolated places in Texas. The 15 pct grade challenges trucks and RVs. From the breathtaking viewpoint at the crest, the Rio Grande lies a thousand anxiety below, and United mexican states is so close you might be tempted to throw a rock into information technology. Paul Burka
43. Farm-to-market place roads
The result of the Colson-Briscoe Act of 1949 to "become the farmer out of the mud," today they serve city folk who want to escape their concrete canyons and get into the backcountry. Traffic is lite, development fifty-fifty lighter, and vistas can be grand. Farm (and ranch) roads take you through the national forests of East Texas, into the heart of the castor country of S Texas, deep into the emptiness of the Trans-Pecos, and, best of all, along the rivers and ridges of the Hill Country. Paul Burka
44. Mustang Donuts, Dallas
Let the masses have their Krispy Kremes. Since 1983, Dallasites take flocked to the tiny doughnut shop beyond from the Southern Methodist Academy campus. I started going there with my high school girlfriend, when we'd pick up a bag of treats: thick chocolate cake doughnuts, creamy èclairs, and anything with sprinkles. Each time we'd stop in, I'd try to impress her by answering the daily trivia question—ranging from SMU history to current events to Russian literature—which would take earned me a costless glazed doughnut and untold admiration. For years, I never got i of them right; when I finally did, it no longer mattered. By then, my girlfriend had been my wife for more than than 10 years. Brian D. Sweany
45. Queso
The texture is vaguely plastic, the color resembles an overripe mango, the gustatory modality—well, more about that in a minute. From any rational culinary standpoint, queso cannot be defended. I mean, we're talking almost Velveeta melted with Ro-Tel tomatoes and chiles. Delight. But something virtually the salty, oozy cheese (excuse me, pasteurized prepared cheese product) and the spicy, sweet tomatoes makes information technology impossible to finish after one bite. Which is why, for decades, no game-watching party, bridal shower, or open firm in Texas has failed to include a large pot of queso in the middle of the dining tabular array. Y'all could serve queso flameado—the truthful Mexican ancestor of the National Dip of Texas—and every ane of your guests would applaud. Only I'll bet you dollars to doughnuts that if yous put them out adjacent, the queso will still be bubbles away when the queso is long gone. Patricia Sharpe
46. The Other Place, New Braunfels
I like to vacation in Santa Fe, Aspen, London, or Paris every bit much as the next person, only it'southward so damn hard to get there. When my family has a few spare days, we sneak over to New Braunfels and (by and large) ignore the insanity of Schlitterbahn, preferring instead a cottage at the Other Identify. Yep, the wooden cabins can sometimes odor musty, and the lighting is not for those predisposed to cataracts, merely it's quiet, clean, cheap ($150 a night), and kid-friendly in a laid-dorsum way (seesaws, swing sets), with a kitchen and no TV. All you get is a metal rocker on a wide porch overlooking the emerald-green Comal and the drunken tubers floating by—in other words, near-perpetual tranquillity. It'south the place that proves time travel is possible, even if information technology'due south simply to Key Texas circa 1960. Mimi Swartz
47. Lower Westheimer Road, between South Shepherd Bulldoze and Brazos Street, Houston
The collection of shops and restaurants hither defies and defines the word "funky" and too happens to be 1 of the few parts of Houston where street life exists outdoors, even on the almost blistering summertime day. Sip coffee at the hip Empire Cafe or the even hipper Brasil and sentinel the parade of gays, straights, street people, and gild matrons, or sample the best nutrient in boondocks at Da Marco, Churrascos, or Marker's. Between meals, you lot can scavenge for mid-century mod furniture or the occasional Stickley rocker, try on recycled designer wearable, and even get a tattoo. Mimi Swartz
48. Beat'ns at Amy's Ice Cream
"People tin can accept the Model T in any color, so long every bit it's black," Henry Ford is rumored to take said, thus breaking a fundamental rule of sales: The client may non e'er exist right, simply he should always accept a choice. This is the beauty of the "beat'due north." At whatsoever of the thirteen Amy's locations throughout Austin, San Antonio, and Houston, you tin can combine your choice of (a) ice cream with your selection of (b) fixings to create an endless number of personal variations. I've tried besides many to count, finally settling on something simple: java and Heath Bar, small. Christopher Keyes
49. Pride of identify
I will never forget the horror I felt watching the second season of Survivor. On the first episode, that beloved good-ol'-boy Texas contestant, Colby Donaldson, proudly announced that he had brought along to the Australian Outback—as his one allotted luxury particular, heed you—a Texas flag. When, like me, yous don't have the benefit of growing up inside this state'southward borders, it is precisely that kind of inexplicable loyalty that makes y'all view Texas pride as, well, an astonishingly annoying character trait. But then I moved to Austin. On my third night, a group of new friends took me to come across the Gourds, at Antone'southward. For the encore, the ring played Doug Sahm'southward "At the Crossroads." I hadn't heard of Doug Sahm earlier; everyone else at that place had. A few minutes in, the entire crowd joined in unison: "You simply can't live in Texas if you don't have a lot of soul!" It was the start fourth dimension I understood Texas pride—and badly wanted a function of it. Christopher Keyes
50. The dance floor at Billy Bob'southward, Fort Worth
For the terminal quarter of a century, the greatest country-western dancers accept come to Baton Bob's, couples who are not just from Fort Worth but from far West Texas, the towns and blueish-collar suburbs east of Dallas, fifty-fifty from Oklahoma. They move around the floor faster than NFL cornerbacks. They practice the two-footstep, so the three-pace. The men "wrap" and "whirl" their ladies. If yous're quick to dismiss the difficulty of western trip the light fantastic toe, go see for yourself. Merely show upwardly on a Thursday night at about ten-thirty, when the business firm ring launches into "Boot Scootin' Boogie." Skip Hollandsworth
51. Glenwood Cemetery, Houston
There are cemeteries and cemeteries in this town, simply Glenwood has something the rest of Houston lacks: hills. Driving from Howard Hughes's elegant, austere grave site to George Brown's sturdy brick plot is not unlike riding a roller coaster in an arboretum crossed with a graveyard that is a veritable who'southward who of famous Houstonians. Upwards and down the steep, curving lanes, you can visit Cooleys, Mastersons, Cullinans, and that peachy society florist of the eighties, Leonard Tharp, all laid to remainder under breathtaking live oaks and bountiful magnolias. Mimi Swartz
52. Lord's day services at the Potter'southward House, Dallas
Merely when you think we've had our fill of great theatrical preachers, another comes forth who sweeps u.s.a. away. T. D. Jakes, the 48-year-old pastor of the 30,000-fellow member nondenominational church called the Potter's Business firm, in southwest Dallas, could very well exist the best of them all. Yous tin grab him on one of the religious channels on cable, but to sympathise what he can really do, you need to meet him alive. A huge man with an xviii-inch neck, Jakes is an unbelievable showman, but in organized religion, of course, showmen are a dime a dozen. What makes Jakes bring his audiences to tears, Lord's day afterward Sunday, is his pity—his agreement of people's deepest fears and doubts. Skip Hollandsworth
53. The Capitol basement, Austin
Here hang the composite photographs of long-forgotten legislatures. The hall is most always empty, so you tin can scan them in silence, looking for a familiar name while musing on who might have been a hero or a rogue in his day. And sometimes you can exist rewarded with an unexpected find, equally in the 1919 photograph of Sam Johnson, who has the same nose and ears as his son, the future president, and the 1911 photograph of the young Speaker Sam Rayburn. Paul Burka
54. Elbow room
Our one-time stereotypical braggadocio about bigness has faded, give thanks heavens; it was parochial and offensive. But notions of Texas and largeness—liberty to roam and aspire, in an almost metaphysical way—remain synonymous in much of the world. An English singer named Chris Rea honored the mystique some years back with a hit melody simply titled "Texas." One line conveyed his green-eyed and yearning: "They got big, long roads out at that place." Jan Reid
55. The "pan dulce" at Mi Tierra, San Antonio
The Ricardo from San Antonio'due south Mi Tierra bakery represents all that was sweetest nigh the happiest years of my childhood. Both of them. For one known to self-medicate with carbs, pan dulce was the drug of choice and Mi Tierra's panadería the whole farmacia: marranitos, the stout, brownish gingerbread pigs; pan de huevo, the basic unit of pan dulce, in white, pinkish, brownish, or yellow; empanadas, their tender bellies filled with pumpkin or sweetness potato. All had their charms. And all, back in the solar day, were cheap. The almost expensive, though, was always the Ricardo, a Mi Tierra exclusive named for the baker who'd created this delicacy. A sweet bun filled with a "creme" unlikely to have e'er met a cow and covered in caramel coat and lots and lots of pecans, the Ricardo tin quell a lot of anxiety. Sarah Bird
56. North Island, Lake Texoma
Lake Texoma is i of the few lakes where the shoreline is not dotted with gunkhole slips and lake houses. And in the middle is North Island (besides known as Thong Island), ane of the state's great hedonistic gathering spots for guys who like to beverage beer and women who similar to wear bikinis. On holiday weekends at Due north Island, hundreds of boats are tied together. Everyone hops from one boat to another, flirting outrageously and shouting such memorable lines equally "Let'south party!" It's merely ridiculous—and blissful. Skip Hollandsworth
57. "Personage With Birds" and "Untitled," by Joan Miró, Houston
Walk into the Menil Collection, continue back into the galleries of twentieth-century works, and you will observe yourself in my favorite place in Texas: continuing in forepart of Untitled, a painting by Joan Miró. It hardly seems like much at start. About of the sail is eggshell white. But left of center is a circle of crimson. Nearby is a much smaller black dot. Information technology looks like a planet circumvoluted besides close to its sun. To the right of centre and slightly higher, there is a pale yellowish circle virtually the aforementioned size as the red i. That'south information technology. How tin can something so simple be so deep and cute? Onetime subsequently World War I Houston Post columnist Hubert Mewhinney wrote, "Houston is a whiskey and trombone town." Personage With Birds, Miró's brash, colorful awe-inspiring sculpture, on Milam Street, not far away from the Menil, captures this side of Houston, though this was certainly not his intent. Just Untitled represents a more personal Houston that insiders come to recognize, a place possessing beautiful and mysterious secrets. ( Untitled is currently on loan but volition return to the Menil in September.) Gregory Curtis
58. Code switching
"Me da un Whataburger with no cheese y también una orden de french fries, please." The hybrid language of Mexican Americans is oft referred to as "Tex-Mex" or "Spanglish," but neither label does justice to its richness and complexity. While nearly people believe that speakers who switch languages within a sentence are linguistically deficient, language specialists argue the contrary. Their studies take plant that "code switchers" blend languages to achieve myriad outcomes—to emphasize or analyze, for example, or to marking breaks in narration for dramatic event—and that Spanglish is governed past its own rules of grammar. Code switchers know when to speak what language to whom, and only in an insignificant number of cases practise they resort to mixing because they can't limited their idea in one tongue. Languages come together in the same artistic style that cultures practise. To speak Tex-Mex or Spanglish is to choose to live in ii worlds. Cecilia Balli
59. The park road to Palmetto Land Park
The apartment, scruffy terrain along U.S. 183 virtually Luling, in S Texas, isn't and so much serene equally information technology is narcolepsy inducing. Quick, before you pass out, veer off the highway onto Park Road 11 for a refreshing jolt of scenery. The brusk 2-mile jaunt—the landscape equivalent of a shot of espresso—is long on visual stimulation: a loma (where'd that come from?), a counties-big vista across orchards and plowed fields, ruddy stone walls built by the Civilian Conservation Corps, and a green tunnel of pecans, oaks, and sycamores with palmetto palms tickling their trunks. Suzy Banks
lx. Whooping cranes, Aransas National Wildlife Refuge
Over four feet tall and weighing a mere 14 pounds, they are the supermodels of the avian globe. And similar paparazzi stalking Kate Moss, birders converge on Aransas National Wildlife Refuge for a glimpse of these winter residents, whose population has grown from a low of 15 in the forties to two-hundred-plus this season at Aransas solitary. The most rewarding sightings are from atop the refuge's xl-human foot-tall observation belfry, where snowy couples, perhaps with a russet-colored junior in tow, stand up out in precipitous contrast confronting the evergreen marsh. A loftier-powered spotting scope brings the cranes and then close that it's like having a front-row seat right side by side to the runway. Suzy Banks
61. The Fort Worth Cultural District
It says something when the Amon Carter Museum, designed by the well-nigh attention-grabbing architect of the past century, the late Philip Johnson, is often overlooked among Fort Worth's closely spaced trio of world-class (actually) art museums. It was here, in 1961, that Johnson gave Postmodernism a trial run. Six years later Louis Kahn built what may well be the twentieth century's most admired building, the sublimely proportioned, butt-vaulted Kimbell Fine art Museum. In 2002 Tadao Ando made it a trifecta with the Modernistic Fine art Museum of Fort Worth, his sophisticated global fusion winning raves and setting an exquisitely loftier bar for 20-first-century greatness. Michael Ennis
62. "My Hometown," by Charlie Robison, and "My Brother and Me," by Bruce Robison
The Robison brothers came of age in early-eighties, pre–cablevision idiot box Bandera, where their only meaningful exposure to pop civilization came from country music radio and heavy-metal concerts in nearby San Antonio. These 2 songs tell you lot what that world looked liked. Bruce'south is a ruminative family history detailing how four generations of wildcatters, whiskey drinkers, teetotalers, and hayseeds took root in the Texas Loma Country. Charlie's is an anthem well-nigh using any means available—summer pipeline jobs, football, music—to become out. Neither song wastes fourth dimension on apologies or nostalgia; both close with the prodigal storytellers back home in Bandera. Taken together they requite a proficient thought of what Larry McMurtry might take accomplished if he'd grown upwards in the eighties instead of the fifties and fallen in dear with a guitar instead of a typewriter. Put them dorsum to back on a playlist and subtitle them "Metalhead, Pass By." John Spong
63. T-Bone Walker'southward guitar audio
The Linden-born bluesman transformed his instrument from a rhythm into a pb voice and invented the guitar solo, which today is taken for granted. But information technology's not but that anybody who'southward since plugged in, especially in Texas, has a little T-Bone in him. It's that Walker'south tone, touch, dynamics, note selection, harmonies, and emotional expression accept rarely been improved upon in the ensuing six-plus decades, but refined. Have the elegant and the downward-and-dirty ever absorbed each other into i package quite so eloquently? John Morthland
64. Canis familiaris Coulee Campground, Guadalupe Mountains National Park
This place is so remote you lot can't even bulldoze to it from Texas. Sixty-five miles of New Mexico byway brings you—only only—back beyond the state line into a forested canyon hidden high in the Guadalupe Mountains. The range is a national park, and from a campsite here you can explore lxxx miles of trails that lead through sky islands of ponderosa pine and Douglas fir to 6 of the land's ten highest peaks. Up hither, there are bobcats and elk, green-skinned madrone trees and white-eyed phlox, and more than 3 hundred kinds of birds. I recommend making your fashion from Canis familiaris Canyon along the McKittrick Canyon Trail for a view over this famous glen, whose hardwood trees explode into color every fall. For nature lovers, photographers, and adventure seekers, this place is a very holy grail. Charlie Llewellin
65. Dublin Dr Pepper
For three decades now, the original Dr Pepper bottling plant, in Dublin, has refused to make the switch from cane syrup to the cheaper—and inferior—culling, corn syrup. The upshot? Dublin Dr Pepper, a soft drink of cult status. Because of a franchise agreement, Dublin Dr Pepper is readily available only in a forty-mile radius around Dublin. Only a few retailers elsewhere bend the rules a scrap. "We call them bootleggers, but we mean that in the best mode," says Jeff Pendleton, Dr Pepper creative director. Just the best place to drinkable it is at the Dublin Dr Pepper Museum, where a soda jerk notwithstanding serves it ice-cold from a fountain. Laura Griffin
66. Dallas freeways
To me, freeway intersections can be as thrilling every bit the most provocative art installation. The junction of I-30, U.Due south. 75, and I-45 in Dallas is 1 of the most stunning, particularly in the evening, when the towers of downtown are silhouetted confronting the hyper-real colors of a Texas dusk. A downtown skyline is the face of a city, and Big D has 1 of the most instantly recognizable. From this gravity-defying nexus, you can stare direct into the unflinching heart of this great conurbation. Charlie Llewellin
67. "Fandango"
The movie's premise is familiar to anyone who ever tried to stretch an actress semester out of boyhood: 5 drunkard frat brothers blow out of a party in the centre of the night in a automobile loaded with beer and headed for anywhere. In this case, the year is 1971, the school is the University of Texas, and the boys wind up in Big Bend. Led by and then-unknowns Kevin Costner and Judd Nelson, the grouping celebrates 1 last, lost weekend in which beer for breakfast even so staves off graduation and growing upwards. Slacker Costner sums upwardly the struggle for straight-arrow Nelson while the latter showers off in a Marfa car wash: "In that location's nothing incorrect with going nowhere, son. It's a privilege of youth." The film tanked at the box office just soon found a abode in frat-business firm VCRs. Since then information technology's validated bad-idea, spur-of-the-moment road trips undertaken from every campus in the state. John Spong
68. The Devil's Bowl Speedway, Mesquite
Spend an extra $2 for a reserved seat so that you lot tin sit in the center section. Buy a beer and a cheeseburger. And and then watch these drivers, nearly all of whom spend their weekdays working in blue-neckband jobs, race around the half-mile oval track, slamming into ane some other and spinning out and so hard that dirt can wing into the parking lot. Between races, pull out your binoculars then you can become a skillful look at the "pit lizards," girls who wearable jeans that leave only enough room for a pack of cigarettes in the back pocket. Skip Hollandsworth</p
69. Festival Concert Hall at the International Festival Plant, Circular Top
A alpine, steep roof and argent cupola ascension above the farmsteads and oak mottes—that's the Bismarckian profile of Festival Concert Hall, a magnet for musicians who appreciate fine acoustics. A unique example of folk architecture begun in 1981 past wood craftsman Larry Birkelbach and his crew, the however-unfinished 1,100-seat hall was conceived in procedure and has developed slowly nether the direction of the constitute's founder, pianist James Dick. Inside, 1 sees why: Intricate designs in woods parquetry embellish every surface. Above, ii bully stars anchor swirls of wooden diamonds, and 110 Celtic-patterned medallions line the balconies, a delight to the eye every bit well every bit the ear. "Sound has to be broken up," says Dick. "The diamonds do that." Chester Rosson
70. Muddied's, Austin
Because when Martin's Kum-Bak Place started serving burgers to University of Texas students in 1926, information technology had a dirt floor, thus the nickname. Because the legend goes that Bobby Layne, the Longhorn quarterback of the mid-forties who should accept been mentioned in all those contempo manufactures about the greatness of Vince Young, drank beer at Dingy's on Sabbatum mornings before suiting upward. Because Earl Campbell still stops in at least in one case a week for a beer and an OT Special. Because Wesley Hughes, who flipped burgers at that place from 1957 until 2003, nevertheless goes in on weekdays to serve equally Head of Public Relations. And because not one time in its eighty years has anyone ever dropped a frozen meat patty on the grill. John Spong
71. The "pachanga"
It'south the heart and soul of politics, South Texas–style, a combination beer bust, barbecue, trip the light fantastic, and political rally that gives voters a chance to meet candidates. In the suburbs, Anglo candidates block-walk; in the Rio Grande Valley, Hispanic politicos travel the pachanga circuit. On weekends close to an ballot, this means attending four or v pachangas in a day, working the crowd, grabbing a taco, washing it down with beer from a keg, and shooting zingers at their opponents. The rituals harken dorsum to a time when politics was intensely personal and political rallies were a form of entertainment. Paul Burka
72. Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center, Austin
Information technology was the Gutenberg Bible I showtime fell in dear with, and then the love letters and dream diaries of Graham Greene. More recently it's been the center's big-name acquisition coups—Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein's Watergate papers, Norman Mailer's archive. Only what keeps me coming dorsum to the University of Texas'due south unplumbable cultural repository are its more intimate gems: John Steinbeck's original draft of East of Eden. Gertrude Stein's messages. A lipstick-stained notation to Arthur Miller. E. Due east. Cummings'south artwork. All I do is flash a photo ID, and the earth is mine. Katharyn Rodemann
73. The Commemorative Air Force Hangar Trip the light fantastic toe, San Marcos
This may not exist the only hangar dance effectually, merely—with the Glenn Miller–inspired nineteen-piece orchestra and the jitterbugging Earth War Two vets in vintage attire—information technology has to be the most popular. The Cardinal Texas Fly of the Commemorative Air Force sponsors this almanac shindig around Veterans Day in a forties-era hangar at the San Marcos Municipal Airport to laurels the Greatest Generation, and I know of no ameliorate way to pay your respects than with a Lindy Hop with an 80-year-old pilot. Also, it's difficult to say no to a man in uniform. Katharyn Rodemann
74. Houston criminal lawyers
What is it with these guys? Their scary-smart rapport with the press? Their go-for-bankrupt antipathy for prosecutors and plea deals? First at that place was Percy Foreman, who successfully defended Melvin Powers, the lover/nephew of socialite Candace Mossler, against the charge that the two of them murdered Mossler'due south married man, in the society trial of the sixties. His protégés, Dick DeGuerin and his brother, Mike DeGeurin (the former reverted to the older spelling of the name), take taken up a string of glory clients, from Kay Bailey Hutchison to Tom Filibuster to diverse Co-operative Davidians. Along the way at that place has been Richard "Racehorse" Haynes, who freed, among others, Cullen Davis, charged with murdering his stepdaughter in the seventies. (Wasn't the murderer really aiming for his estranged wife?) And so last yr Dick DeGuerin, the smoothie, and the folksier Mike Ramsey teamed up to free Robert Durst, who chopped his Galveston neighbour into niggling pieces and and then claimed self-defense. Now Ramsey has Ken Lay for a customer. One last question: Is it Houston lawyers or Houston defendants who make life here irresistible? The answer: irrelevant, as long every bit they put on a good show. Mimi Swartz
75. Quail hunting
It'south the virtually exhilarating and well-nigh dangerous type of hunting this side of going after large game. Dogs accept the lead, followed by hunters, three or 4 abreast, advancing through brush and tall grass. Y'all can be right on top of a covey and not know it. With no warning, the birds flush, and the air is filled with quail. Information technology'south a Hitchcockian moment. And then you lot're firing in close quarters with an incredible adrenaline blitz. Just don't forget the two most of import rules: Never, ever shoot behind y'all, and if you shoot somebody, it'due south your fault. Even if the White House blames the victim. Paul Burka
Source: https://www.texasmonthly.com/being-texan/75-things-we-love-about-texas/
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