As the Texas heat settles in to stay awhile, some people’s thoughts turn to a cool, refreshing beer. And it’s better if the brew is local. That was the inspiration for this Typewriter Rodeo poem.
The temperatures across Texas are climbing and, in many places, so are the humidity levels. That was the inspiration for this Typewriter Rodeo poem.
There’s a little more elbow room in the Texas capital city these days… with the university students gone and the legislature out of session… for now. That was the inspiration for this Typewriter Rodeo poem.
School is over for most Texas kids. It’s time to take stock of the year past. One way to do that is with a good cleaning and disinfection of that ubiquitous part of the school uniform – the faithful backpack.
A Texas Senator on the shortlist for FBI Director. But getting confirmation may not be easy, we’ll explore. Plus a strange connection between a Texas Health official and Trump’s revised travel ban has led to a resignation. We’ll tell you why. And the same sand that makes part of south-central Texas so great for growing strawberries also makes it perfect for mining… but residents aren’t pleased. Plus the shocking way some Texas schools have been dealing with students who can’t pay for lunches and an effort to change that. All of that and more on today’s Texas Standard:
Wildflowers are dotting the highways, fireflies are flitting about during dusk and it’s still cool enough to sit outside most days. The telling signs of the spring season — and the anticipation of summer — inspired this week’s poem.
Whether you call them fireflies or lightening bugs, these little insects were the inspiration for this Typewriter Rodeo segment.
My favorite snack as a teenager was a Dr Pepper with salty peanuts. You remember: you pour the peanuts into the Dr Pepper and let them float around and season the drink. Didn’t get much better than that.
Dr Pepper is the oldest soft drink in America. Older than Coca-Cola, in fact, by a full year. It was created in 1885 by a pharmacist, Charles Alderton, in Waco, Texas. And its original name was Waco – it was served there at the soda fountain in the drugstore. The drink was an instant hit; customers would sit down on one of those old spinning stools and say, “Shoot me a Waco.”
As its popularity exploded, the makers couldn’t keep up supplying the syrup to all the other drug stores that wanted it, so a company was formed, and a new name created.
The name Dr Pepper was suggested by Wade Morrison, the owner of the drugstore. The story goes that Morrison supposedly named it after his would-be father-in-law back in Virginia, a man he wanted to impress because he was in love with his daughter.
Morrison never did get the girl, but I bet the old man Pepper regretted that rejection when Dr Pepper became a national sensation and made the not-good-enough Morrison quite rich. Maybe the saddest person in this whole affair was Charles Alderton – the pharmacist who created Dr Pepper. He simply gave away the recipe because he was more interested in medicine than marketing.
Dr Pepper’s formula is held in two separate bank vaults in Dallas. Each vault has half of the formula and no one person knows the entire secret. Coca-Cola has similar safeguards.
Contrary to soda pop mythology, Dr Pepper is not made of prune juice, nor does it have any part prune juice in it. It is made of a blend of fruit extracts. But the blend of flavors results in a uniqueness that makes many people swear that Diet Dr Pepper is the most undiety tasting soft drink in existence. And let’s not forget Dublin Dr Pepper, now sadly out of production, but once regarded as the finest Pepper of all, thanks to Imperial pure cane sugar.
Dr Pepper Poker – a version of poker where tens, twos, and fours are wild – takes its concept from the numbers 10, 2, and 4 that used to be on every Dr Pepper bottle. The label encouraged you to have three Dr Peppers a day at 10, 2, and 4 to keep you, well… peppy.
A poker purist will not play Dr Pepper. But I like it. It is the only time I have had four a kind, legitimately.
W.F. Strong is a Fulbright Scholar and professor of Culture and Communication at the University of Texas Rio Grande Valley. At Public Radio 88 FM in Harlingen, Texas, he’s the resident expert on Texas literature, Texas legends, Blue Bell ice cream, Whataburger (with cheese) and mesquite smoked brisket.
While many Texans firmly believe seasons do not exist in our great state, we all look forward to the few weeks of cool weather in the fall. It’s the perfect time for cardigans, sweaters, and a cup of hot chocolate. The hard part is waiting for the blissful respite from the heat.
It’s hot, it’s humid, it’s the height of summer across the state. That means wardrobes are making a transformation, but today’s poem suggests you might want to spend extra time pondering your footwear before you head into the office on Monday.
Summer. For students and teachers, that means a break from books, papers, tests, deadlines, and the stress of school. In this episode of KUT’s podcast “Higher Ed,” Southwestern University President Dr. Ed Burger and KUT’s Jennifer Stayton talk about the benefits of that break, as well as the advantages of keeping the brain at least a little busy during the summer months. In this episode, Ed and Jennifer balance the benefits of a breather from the classroom with the importance of keeping the brain occupied over the summer. Hear about some ways to do that, including sharing what happens during the school year with family and friends over the summer. You’ll also get the solution to the most recent math puzzler. A hint: think small.
This episode was recorded May 16, 2016.
It’s July, and everyone is in the midst of pool parties, fireworks and cookouts. But that also means August is around the corner, so it’s time to squeeze every bit of fun out of the season. That feeling inspired Typewriter Rodeo’s Jodi Egerton to write this week’s poem.
Summertime means you’ll likely spend a lot of time on patios – as long as you aren’t bothered by the buzz (and bite) of mosquitos. Those critters inspired Typewriter Rodeo’s Jodi Egerton to write this week’s poem.
It’s hot. Heck, it’s always hot in August in Texas. Yet, somehow, many of us still manage to lace up our shoes and hit the hot asphalt for a walk, run or bike ride. That was the inspiration for this week’s Typewriter Rodeo poem by Sean Petrie.
It’s hot outside and it’s reached that point in summer vacations when, admit it or not, most kids are getting a little bored and ready to get back to school. That was the inspiration for this week’s Typewriter Rodeo poem by Sean Petrie.
2015 had been a pretty temperate summer but, now, it’s hot — darn hot! That was the inspiration for this week’s Typewriter Rodeo poem by David Fruchter.
2015 had been a pretty temperate summer but, now, it’s hot — darn hot! That was the inspiration for this week’s Typewriter Rodeo poem by Sean Petrie.
In this edition of Two Guys on Your Head, Dr. Art Markman and Dr. Bob Duke talk about organizing time to make the most of time off.
Once school is over for the summer, many students are tempted to put it as far out of their minds as possible and take a break from the rigors of the academic year. And they certainly aren’t thinking about the school year ahead. In this episode of KUT’s podcast Higher Ed, KUT’s Jennifer Stayton and Southwestern University President Dr. Ed Burger talk about striking a healthy balance between letting your brain take a summer vacation and keeping it busy enough to be fresh for the fall. Ed and Jennifer discuss ways students can prepare themselves over the summer for the school year ahead, especially if they are heading to college for the first time. Listen to hear Ed’s one word key to a successful summer. And find out if you came up with the right solution to the refreshing summer math puzzler involving mango juice.
Summer is here, and that means escaping the Texas heat by cooling off inside a movie theatre. This summer, as many before it, promises big blockbusters with towering dinosaurs and caped superheroes. That’s the inspiration for Typewriter Rodeo’s David Fruchter this week.