Lone Star state of mind

The hubris of Texans is legendary. "Everything," a Lone Star native might say, "is bigger in Texas."

Bigger. Better. Prettier. Nicer ... Finer. Easier. Kinder.

The stereotypical Texan wears a 10-gallon hat, boots and an attitude as big as his native state. Texans' braggadacio and self-promotion inevitably leads to a certain amount of resentment north of the Red River and east of the Sabine.

Wisconsinites might press cheese curds into the shape of their state's political boundaries, but where -- other than Texas -- do folks commonly tattoo their state's outline or symbols on their bodies?

Of course, it's more than just the geographical sense of Texas we're celebrating; it's also a "state of mind," we're fond of saying, and that state of mind no doubt arises from our unique history as a soverign nation that fought for its own independence and the unique priveleges our annexation by treaty gives us among the states.

As with many stereotypes, there is a kernel of truth to the oil-pumping, cow-punching Texas of myth. But Texas, to my mind, is no one thing. It is, without a doubt, vast. And in that vastness, there is great variety.

My Texas has always been more Jimmy Buffet than Waylon Jennings; more flip-flops than cowboy boots; more southern than western.

Truth be told, my Texas doesn't have the best of much, but it has some of just about everything and the most of some things.

In the early 19th century, the northernmost point in Texas was in today's southern Wyoming. By treaty, the state's westernmost boundary extended from the Gulf of Mexico to the headwaters of the Rio Grande. Texans claimed a bit of Colorado, a good chunk of New Mexico (including Santa Fe) and the Oklahoma panhandle.

The Okies, by all accounts, still want in.

Two wars, a couple of boundary disputes and some political wrangling later, the Lone Star State has been whittled down to about 261,797 square miles of land and 6,784 square miles of water; about as large as New England, New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio and North Carolina combined. Somewhere along the line, we got screwed-out of a mighty fine trout stream and a couple of decent ski areas.

Even now, in our much-reduced state, the longest straight-line distance from north to south is 801 miles; the greatest east-west distance is 773 miles. Once, during a brief sojourn in New England, I heard a woman explaining that she and her husband got down to New Milford, Conn., to visit their son only about once a month.

"We live all the way up at the Mass. border," she said, by way of explanation. About 60 miles, from what I could tell on the map. Hell, in Texas we drive an hour for dinner sometimes.

Some years back, a professor of Malthusian persuasion insisted to me the world was about to founder under the weight of humanity. I did a little figgerin' and figgered this: The entire population of the world could fit inside of Texas with every man, woman and child esconced in a comfortable 1,300 square-foot living space. And Texas would still be less densely populated than the island of Manhattan (which, you'll recall, includes Central Park).

Some more numbers to consider:

Texas contains more than 22 million acres of forests -- an area larger than the state of Maine. Much of that forest is found in the state's share of the great Southern pine forest that stretches across the southeast portion of the nation.

Texas boasts 3,700 named streams, 15 major rivers and some 3,300 miles of tidal shoreline along the Gulf Coast.

The Dallas-Fort Worth area has more residents - 5,221,801 - than each of 31 other U.S. states. For example, Arizona has about 5.1 million residents.

Texas is home to three of the nation's 10 largest cities.

Texas has more than 90 mountains over a mile high; in fact, a whole bunch of mountains taller than anything east of the Mississippi. As best I can tell, we have only two ski areas (both artificial), but, hey ... Riudoso (once part of Texas) is only a couple hours drive from our border.

I invite anyone who believes our beaches to be only the brown sand and brown water of Galveston to spend a late summer day on Mustang or Padre Island. With cool green water and 20-foot viz, they look a lot like Destin or Fort Walton Beach sometimes.

Austin is the self-proclaimed "live music capital of the world." Not so sure about that one, but, man! There is some great music to be found in the River City. Tues.-Thurs., one can catch Kacy Crowley and Will Sexton at Momo's and turn around and hear Jon Dee Graham and James McMurtry the next night at the Continental Club. All for less than $20 total.

From Texas, we sent forth into the world the likes of Buddy Holly, ZZ Top, Willie Nelson, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Meat Loaf, George Strait, Freddie Fender, George Jones, Stephen Stills, Don Henley, Lyle Lovett, Ernest Tubb, Lightnin' Hopkins, Boxcar Willie, T-Bone Walker, the Dixie Chicks, Norah Jones and a host of others.

Of course, we also spawned Christopher Cross, Barry White, Beyonce, Nelly, LBJ and the political ambitions of los dos presidentes Bush. We may still be in karmic debt.

Steve Martin, Carol Burnet and Bill Hicks (check him out on NetFlix, the man was truly funny) all hail from Texas.

For a while there we had a lock on the nightly news: Sam Donaldson, Dan Rather and Walter Cronkite, Stone Phillips and Bob Schieffer all are Texans.

Really these sorts of lists are a bit of a cheat; after all, if a state so large, so populous, did not produce at least a few over-achievers, something would be amiss.

Perhaps it's the droughty years, or maybe we just lean that way, but here in Texas we seem to be well-aquainted with the sulfurous pit: we can take you to the Devil's River, show you Devil's toenails (fossilized oysters) and Devil's claws (wicked-looking seed pods), hike through Devil's Hall (a rock formation), gaze into Devil's Sinkhole (a famous bat cave), party at Devil's Cove and drive across the Devil's Backbone dodging dust devils.

Oddly enough, Farm-to-Market 666 will take you to none of these sites. It's way the hell down south.

I can find no corresponding references in the Lone Star State for heaven or the Heavenly Father.

That's not to say that Texas is actually hell. There's ample historical evidence that at least some folks consider them two distinct geographical locations.

"If I owned Texas and Hell, I would rent Texas and live in Hell” said Gen. Philip Sheridan in 1866.

The famous frontiersman and two-term U.S Congressman from Tennessee, Davy Crockett, also made a distinction between Texas and Gehenna: "You may all go to hell and I will go to Texas," he said, after quitting politics and his native state in disgust.

A popular bumper sticker around here these days reads: "I wasn't born in Texas, but I got here as fast as I could."

Lyle Lovett assures us that even if you're not from Texas, "Texas loves you anyway ..." So, come see us. You'll have a hell of a good time.