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Texas Standard: August 25, 2022

Are billions in school debt owed by Texans about to be written off the books? We’ll look at what President Biden’s announcement adds up to for Texans. Other stories we’re tracking: buying out of flood prone property: what it could mean for a region ravaged by Hurricane Harvey 5 years ago. Also after this weeks rains in North Texas, how the struggle’s just beginning for some families. And as housing prices skyrocket across Texas and many parts of the nation, military allowances not keeping up. And is the University of Texas about to pass Harvard as the country’s wealthiest university?Those stories and much more today on the Texas Standard:

The Most Generous Texan Of Yore?

Most Texans probably know the Brackenridge name. But, depending on where you’re from, you might have a different landmark (and namesake) in mind. In Austin, there was the area’s first public hospital. In Edna, there’s a more than one thousand acre Brackenridge Recreation Complex. But as Commentator WF Strong notes, the Brackenridge who lent his name to a park in San Antonio, George Washington Brackenridge, may have given more to Texas — in financial terms — than anyone else.

Texas Standard: June 9, 2021

Democrats and Republicans agree the U.S. needs to figure out immigration. But what exactly does that mean and how do we get there? We’ll explore. Also, gun policy at the Texas legislature. We’ll look at what passed and what didn’t. And what’s in the bills Governor Abbott just signed to address problems with the electric grid? Plus one view from Texas about the ongoing coronavirus crisis in India. And we’ll take a look at what researchers call the seven threads of Texas. Where do you fit into the fabric of the state? Those stories and more today on the Texas Standard:

Texas Standard: September 10, 2019

Midland-Odessa, El Paso, Santa Fe, Sutherland Springs… We’ll take a look at laws that may have helped prevent these mass shootings. Also, three Texas border cities are part of the Trump Administration’s so-called “remain in Mexico” program. But there’s some confusion in the rollout, we’ll explore. And a think tank with a focus on renewables says now is the time to say goodbye to natural gas. We’ll explain. Plus, lovesick crabs are being lured to their deaths at the site of the Deepwater Horizon oil spill. And an analysis of the Democratic plan to victory in Texas in 2020. All of that and so much more today on the Texas Standard:

Texas Standard: July 25, 2019

Despite concerns over bias, judges rule Texas can remake its political maps without Federal oversight. We’ll take a look at what that means moving forward. Also, how did Texas lawmakers on both sides of the aisle try to score points in Wednesdays Mueller hearings? We’ll take a closer look. And danger people at work: on the job deaths on the rise in Texas. Plus Texans getting prosecuted for helping undocumented migrants. And the legacy of Freddy Fender, your latest weekend trip tips and so much more today on the Texas Standard:

What’s In A Name – The Rio Grande Valley

When some people first arrive in the Rio Grande Valley of South Texas they often ask, “Where are the mountains?” It’s natural. Generally a valley is between mountains or at least hills. But the Rio Grande Valley is most accurately a delta region, as level as Lubbock. The highest roadway point is the 80-foot summit of the causeway bridge that goes to South Padre Island.

So how did a delta become the Valley? Marketing. Back in the early 1900s when developers were selling beautiful orchard acreage to northerners in New York and Chicago, they found that naming the area the Rio Grande Valley was a powerful selling strategy. It was also marketed as “the Magic Valley” – and I have no problem with the magic part. After all, there are dozens of varieties of exotic birds and butterflies that migrate through here each year. Some species winter here, too.  The vibrantly colored birds and butterflies do make it a magical. And there are the crops, too. Early on, visitors saw that sugar cane and cotton and citrus orchards, irrigated with plentiful Rio Grande water, grew like magic in the Magic Valley.

The strategy worked. Hundreds of thousands of people came to the RGV from northern states last century for the subtropical climate and relaxed living. Some came just for the mild winters they were called “Winter Texans” (and still are). “Winter Texan” was another successful PR term that seemed much more warm and personable than the slightly pejorative, “Snowbird.” From the point of view of a Texan, there could be no greater compliment than to crown visitors a “Texan” for the time they are here.

The Rio Grande Valley is comprised of many small and medium-sized cities.  Many have interesting name origins. South Padre Island translates to “Father Island.” It was named for a catholic priest – Padre José Nicolás Ballí. He inherited the island from his grandfather who received it as a land grant from King Charles III of Spain in 1759.

Brownsville could have been called Texasville if the original fort built there had kept its first name, which was Fort Texas. The makeshift fort was quickly constructed in 1846 to lay claim to the Rio Grande as the southern border of Texas.  The Mexican army bombarded the fort and Major Jacob Brown, originally of Boston, was killed. He was the first casualty of the Mexican-American war. So the fort was renamed Fort Brown in his honor and the town that grew up around the fort was named Brownsville.

Harlingen was named for the town of Harlingen in the Netherlands. Its founder, Lon C. Hill, thought the town’s river, the Arroyo Colorado, could be a commercial waterway to the sea, and Harlingen a city of canals, similar to its namesake in Holland. It’s pronounced differently. The Harlingen in Holland has a different “g” – Harlingen.

Weslaco is almost an acronym. It was founded by W.E. Stewart, owner of the W.E. Stewart Land Company, which was a real estate development company. So you take Stewart’s initials and the first letters of “land” and “company” and you get “Weslaco.”

Edinburg was named for Edinburgh, Scotland. Well, technically named in honor of John Young, a businessman from Edinburgh, Scotland. Both are university towns, but are spelled differently and pronounced differently, too. The Edinburgh in Scotland has somewhat of a silent g and h at the end. The one in Texas has no ‘h” but does pronounce the “g.” Edinburg. Don’t know the reason for spelling and saying it differently, but this is Texas – it’s what we do. We take the names and make them our own.

Texas Standard: March 28, 2019

A tipping point at the border and pessimistic projections about the possibility of tragedy amid record numbers of asylum seekers. We’ll have the latest from El Paso where migrant families are being fenced into a makeshift shelter under a highway bridge. Also, a Texas mother files a federal lawsuit seeking 125 million from the Weather Channel after a tragedy involving storm chasers. Plus, Apple: the latest to enter the streaming wars, but are we already in over our heads when it comes to movies on demand? Also Hamilton comes to Texas and a whole lot more today on the Texas Standard:

Texas Standard: February 28, 2019

A key provision of the Texas open meetings act struck down by the state’s highest criminal court. We’ll look at what it means for government transparency. Also, the state’s school librarians read the fine print of a bill to hike teacher salaries, and they’re pushing back. We’ll hear from the state’s top librarian. Plus the timeless voice of tejano superstar Selena. Was it one voice, or two? All those stores and a whole lot more today on the Texas Standard:

Texans Have A Funny Relationship With The Letter ‘R’

Texas Monthly once described the joke I’m about to tell you as THE TEXAS JOKE because of its staying power over many decades: A married couple from out of state were driving across Texas and saw a sign that said “Mexia 22 miles.” They got into a bit of an argument over how to say the name of the town. He said it was likely “Mex-ee-ah” and she thought it was pronounced more like the country “Meh-ee-co” and would thus be “Meh-hee-ah.” The argument persisted and he said, “We can’t settle this. Tell you what. First place we come to in town we’ll pull over and ask them.” So they did. They pulled in at the first place and went up the girl at the counter and he said, “Can you tell us how to say the name of this place? And say it slow so we can hear it clearly.” The girl thought the request was crazy but she leaned forward and said, “Day-ree-queeeen.”

That’s an old joke, I know, but I use it as a segue to get to where I’m going. Of course nobody says “Meh-hee-ah” or “Mex-ee-ah.” “Muh-hay-ah” is common but so is “Muh-hair.” That’s right, many people around those parts call it “Muh-hair.” Don’t know why. There’s no “r” in the word, but in Texas there’s something about an “r” that we adore.

We do this to Refugio, too. Again, there is no second “R” in Refugio. It’s a Spanish word, Refugio, meaning refuge, but we find it dialectically comfortable to exchange the “g” for an “r.”

There’s a well known and much traveled street in Houston that everyone pronounces as “Kirk-in-doll.” There is no “r” in the word at all. We could send in crack troops on a search and rescue mission and they’d never find an “r”. We just throw one in there for the hell of it, I guess.

And if we are not adding an “r” we simply move it to where it’s more convenient for us. In the Hill Country, it is a river named the Pedernales River. Again a Spanish word, Pedernales. It means flints. We could just anglicize it to Pedernales but we find that “r’’ to be inconveniently located so we move it up front where we can keep an eye on it and make sure it doesn’t get away from us. We say, “Perdenales.”

Go on down south of Refugio about 100 miles you will come to Riviera. Well, that’s the way it ought to be pronounced because it is spelled just like the Riviera in France, for which it was named — perhaps just an attempt at good marketing. True, it has a few million less people, no rivers, no film festival and no world class beaches. But it’s not pronounced the same either. It is pronounced “Ra-veer-ah.” So the “r” is still there but we get rid of that annoying detour caused by the unwanted “i” and replace it with an “e” to compliment that other “e” – to streamline our way to the “r.” Much better. Otherwise we might sound French. It’s a confusing adjustment because mostly we Texans have never met a diphthong we didn’t like, but in this case we seem in a hurry to get to the “r” so we straighten out the approach.

Though not a place, we do something similar with “Brahmer.” It’s Brahman, of course, technically, but we like the aesthetics of the word better if we exchange the “n” for an “r”: “That’s a beautiful Brahmer bull you got there.”

And we must include “Whataburger,” too, often pronounced “Water-burger.” Gotta get in the extra “r”.

And many of us do it with prostate, saying prostrate cancer instead of prostate cancer. Extra “r” slipped in. I think that “r” is borrowed from the notion of lying prostrate.

Yes, something about an “r.” We put ‘em where they’re not. We move them within the word. We streamline our way to them and make exchanges that better suit our Texas style, irregardless (there’s another one) of what may be thought of as formally proper.

Things Shaped Like Texas

Texans tend to love the shape of Texas — and to buy items, including food, in that shape. That was the inspiration for this Typewriter Rodeo poem.

In 15 Minutes, Barbara Jordan Built A Legacy

Andy Warhol summed up our modern, technology-driven world: “In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes.” But Barbara Jordan turned this idea on its head. In 15 minutes, she delivered a speech that gave her lasting, worldwide fame.

She was only 38 when she, on national television, argued for the indictment of Richard M. Nixon for high crimes and misdemeanors. Surrounded by more senior members of the House Judiciary Committee, mostly men with far more experience in government and law, Jordan gave a speech that was so brilliant, she stunned the committee and mesmerized those watching on television.

Here is how she opened:

“Earlier today, we heard the beginning of the Preamble to the Constitution of the United States: ‘We, the people.’ It’s a very eloquent beginning. But when that document was completed on the seventeenth of September in 1787, I was not included in that ‘We, the people.’ I felt somehow for many years that George Washington and Alexander Hamilton just left me out by mistake. But through the process of amendment, interpretation, and court decision, I have finally been included in ‘We, the people.’ Today I am an inquisitor. An hyperbole would not be fictional and would not overstate the solemness that I feel right now. My faith in the Constitution is whole; it is complete; it is total. And I am not going to sit here and be an idle spectator to the diminution, the subversion, the destruction, of the Constitution.”

Jordan’s Watergate speech is flawless in its eloquence. Few people ever reach these persuasive heights – you find it in Lincoln, and Kennedy and Martin Luther King. And you find it here in Barbara Jordan, a rare talent for setting logic on fire.

She was persuasive because she was anchored in the Constitution rather than anger or political posturing. Many worried at the time that agreeing to file articles of impeachment was the same as throwing Richard Nixon out of the White House without due process. She opens the constitution and teaches:

“It is wrong, I suggest, it is a misreading of the Constitution for any member here to assert that for a member to vote for an article of impeachment means that that member must be convinced that the President should be removed from office. The Constitution doesn’t say that.”

Jordan had a beautiful blend of legal and common language, a style that the man on the street can follow and be moved by. She tried to allay these fears by explaining, in Constitutional terms, that all the House can do is vote for impeachment, which is an indictment. The Senate must have the trial and decide guilt or innocence – and punishment.

She again follows the technical explanation with a simpler one:

“The framers of this Constitution were very astute. They did not make the accusers and the judgers — and the judges the same person.”

She follows this razor-like rationale, guided only by the Constitution, to this conclusion:

“Has the President committed offenses, and planned, and directed, and acquiesced in a course of conduct which the Constitution will not tolerate? That’s the question. We know that. We know the question. We should now forthwith proceed to answer the question. It is reason, and not passion, which must guide our deliberations, guide our debate, and guide our decision.”

Nixon resigned a few days later. I don’t think he cared to face this inquisitor.

And it wasn’t just Jordan’s infallible logic that supporters admired and opponents feared. It was her divine voice and impeccable diction that animated that logic, seeming to place it beyond rebuttal.

I have a friend, Dr. Juliet Garcia, who served on a bank board with Jordan. She says Jordan “could read the agenda and make it sound profound.”

When Barbara died in 1996, having devoted her life to serving Texas, Ann Richards remembered her this way. “There was simply something about her that made you proud to be a part of the country that produced her. And she forever redefined what it meant to be a Texan in the eyes of this nation.”

Jordan’s life was truly a succession of firsts: first African-American woman to serve in the Texas State Senate, first African-American Texan elected to Congress, first woman to deliver a keynote address at the Democratic National Convention, first woman to have a statue erected in her honor at UT Austin, and – this makes me smile – even in death she achieved another first. She was the first African American to be buried in the Texas State Cemetery. I do miss her. We sure could use her voice, and her logic, today.

Ten Songs About Lovin’ The Lone Star State

About six months ago, I took a look at songs about Texas towns – “Amarillo by Morning,” “Galveston,” “La Grange,” “Streets of Laredo,” “China Grove,” etc. Now I figure, why not just do Texas? Let’s talk about songs that show their love for Texas in a Texas-sized way – paying homage to the whole state and her irresistible charms.

So this would leave out songs like those already mentioned, and also those that have Texas in the title, but are either primarily instrumental songs or have no specific lyrics of Texas praise or adoration. Much as I love Stevie Ray Vaughn’s “Texas Flood,” it doesn’t qualify here. Neither does “The Yellow Rose of Texas,” since it is a song about loving one incredible Texas woman, but not the state.

We must begin, I suppose, with our official state song, “Texas, Our Texas,” written in 1924, by William Marsh, a British immigrant from Liverpool.

Another early classic would have to be “Deep in the Heart of Texas,” written in 1941 and first recorded by Perry Como. But probably the best-known version is this one by Gene Autry.

Just a few years later, Ernest Tubb gave us another classic that could have been used by The Texas Travel Bureau as their theme song; “There’s a Little Bit of Everything in Texas.” Willie Nelson covered it in 1993.

In 1975, The Charlie Daniels Band released its Texas anthem simply titled. “Texas,” on the album “Nightrider.”

Sometimes we show how much we love something by how much we miss it – by how much we long for it. That’s what George Strait did in “Can’t See Texas From Here,” from his 1982 album, “Strait from the Heart.” And I believe it was.

Gary P. Nunn gave us “London Homesick Blues,” which is hard not to put on the list. But from the same 1984 album, “Home With the Armadillo,” we get “What I Like About Texas.” That’s  dead solid perfect. Bet Gary hadn’t had to pay for a Beltbuster or Blizzard since 1984.

I first heard the song “Texas” by the British singer Chris Rea while driving across west Texas in 1989, appropriately under a big yellow moon, on Highway 90 south of Van Horn, a road that goes on forever.

And you certainly know “God Blessed Texas,” which has been ubiquitous since its release more than 25 years ago, believe it or not. It’s by Little Texas.

Vince Gill sang “I’ll Take Texas” in 1998. And his song did indeed take Texas by storm.

We wrap up our list appropriately with Miranda Lambert, with “Texas Pride,” from 2001. And that’s an ideal title, because her first professional singing gig was with the Texas Pride Band.

That’s my list. What’s on yours?

Samuel Walker: The Real Walker, Texas Ranger

One of the most fascinating Texas Rangers of all time was Samuel Hamilton Walker — no relation, we should say right off the bat, to Chuck Norris’ fictional character Cordell Walker. Many Ranger aficionados rate Sam Walker the second-most-important Texas Ranger of all time, behind Jack Coffee Hays, with whom Walker rangered. Now that’s a dream team.

Samuel Walker arrived in Texas six years after Texas had won its independence. In five more years, in 1847, he would be dead. But in those five years he would defend San Antonio from Mexican forces, invade Mexico four times, escape from a Mexican prison and help design one of the most famous guns in history, the Colt Walker six-shooter.

Walker’s first foray into Mexico was part of the ill-fated Mier expedition, which was for the purpose of punishing Mexico for its illegal incursions into San Antonio. Walker was not yet a Texas Ranger. He was with a group of men who believed they would repay Mexico for their illegal incursions into Texas. His group was attacked by a much larger army of Mexican troops who engaged them in defense of the Mier. 180 Texans were taken as prisoners.

Santa Anna ordered them all shot, but cooler heads in the Mexican government prevailed and a decimation instead: one in 10 would die. The Texans were ordered to draw a bean from a pot. Among the 159 white beans were 17 black ones. Those who got a black bean would be executed on the spot; those who drew white beans would live. Sam Walker got a white bean.

The prisoners were marched 800 miles across Mexico’s brutal deserts. Walker mentioned in his journal of the Mier Expedition that he would not trade Texas for 100 Mexicos. He was however, impressed with the fine architecture he encountered in the churches of San Miguel de Allende, which remains true for the many expatriate Texans who live there today.

Once in the capital, some of the prisoners, including Walker, was imprisoned at Tacubaya, suburb of Mexico City, and some were marched another 100 miles and incarcerated in the infamous Perote Prison.
Walker’s group was forced to do road work, including building a road from Mexico City to Santa Anna´s summer villa, which further enraged Walker. This amounted to a lot of salt in a deep wound, and he nurtured his loathing for Santa Anna — indeed, for all Mexicans — all his life, so much so that his friends called him “mad Walker.”

There is a much-shared myth about Walker’s time imprisoned in Mexico. The story goes that he was ordered to dig a hole for a flagpole and raise the Mexican flag. According to one version of the legend, he put a dime at the bottom of the hole and vowed to return one day, reclaim the dime, and raise the Texas flag. Several years later, the story goes, he retrieved his dime when he returned with American forces to occupy Mexico City. It’s a good story, but probably not true. Walker never mentioned it in his journals. Also, the flagpole in the various versions of the myth is always in Perote Prison, in the state of Vera Cruz, and Walker was never incarcerated there. He was, however, part of Winfield Scott’s invasion force that sacked the prison in 1847, and that may well be where the legend has its origins.

Walker eventually escaped from the Tacubaya prison — a story that would make a good novel in itself — and made it back to Texas. He joined up with Jack Hays and the Texas Rangers in 1844 and fought in many of the most famous Indian battles.

When General Zachary Taylor sent out a call in 1845 for volunteers to scout for his federal troops, Walker immediately signed up. He ran messages through the Mexican lines to keep Fort Texas (soon to be Fort Brown) aware of Taylor´s plans for invading Mexico. Walker led the charge in the battle for Monterrey.
It was after Taylor’s forces had secured Monterrey, in 1846, that Walker took a brief furlough and traveled back east. There he gave Samuel Colt some ideas for improving Colt’s earlier model of his revolver called the Paterson pistol. Colt, in gratitude, named a special, very heavy model of his new six-shooter after Walker.

Walker next joined up with General Winfield Scott’s campaign to pacify Mexico City. Though he was officially made a U.S. soldier, everybody still thought of him as a Texas Ranger and called him Ranger Walker. Scott’s army invaded Mexico at Vera Cruz and advanced from there toward Mexico City. On the way, they sacked Perot Prison, released the prisoners and turned it into a fort for the American forces.

But Walker would not live to make it back to Texas. He was to die a few months later, fighting the army of his old nemesis, Santa Anna, at the town of Huamantla, where Santa Anna had positioned his forces to stop the U.S. troops’ march to rescue the American garrison under siege at Puebla. Walker led his company, which was ahead of the main U.S. force, into battle there. His men fought fiercely until the main force arrived to defeat Santa Anna, but Walker didn´t get to enjoy the victory. He lay dead; his prized Colt Walkers at his side. He was 32. In retaliation, his men went on a wild rampage, sacking, looting and pillaging the town.

Walker’s body was returned to San Antonio; eventually it was interred in the Odd Fellows Cemetery next to the unidentified remains of the defenders of the Alamo.

It’s said that Walker was not a man you would much notice in everyday life. He was of average size, and quiet. But in battle he was a lion. In his Notes of the Mexican War 1846-1848, J. Jacob Oswandel observed of Walker that ‘’war was his element, the bivouac his delight, and the battlefield his playground.”

Walker lived more in his short life than your average ten men live in their long lives combined. He is the Walker, Texas Ranger, that should be most remembered.

Texas Ice Scrapers

The weather in Texas set record lows this week. School districts and city offices shut down because of — what’s that? Is that ice? Why is there ice sticking on my windshield? That was the inspiration for this Typewriter Rodeo poem.

A Handy Guide To The Most Texas-Loving Pages On Facebook

Back when Facebook was new on the net, in order to spur participation on the platform, Facebook made a page for every state and issued a challenge: “Let’s see which state can get to a million likes first.”

Texas won and won handily. It wasn’t even close.

Given Texas’s galactic reputation for state pride, the only surprise would have been had Texas not come in first. California and New York were much more tech savvy and digitally connected at the time and should have at least come in second and third, but they didn’t.

Colorado took second place, probably because the state was proud that it was once part of Texas. I say that with tongue firmly planted in cheek. Since that time, Texas pride pages have proliferated on Facebook. Most have sister sites on Twitter, but I’m choosing to focus exclusively on Facebook for today.

So here are ten pages, of the hundreds in existence, that you might enjoy “liking” and seeing their posts in your news feed – I certainly do. I’m leaning away from the strictly business, news, political or government pages in favor of those that are mostly about celebrating Texas as a beautiful land and culture. The order is random and the choices are mine.

Traces of Texas shares fascinating photos from Texas history, recent and distant. Most are high quality black and white photos. Traces of Texas followers send in never-before-seen-by-the-public photos from old family albums and library collections. Traces of Texas is an online museum of Texas history – created by Texans, for Texans.

Texas Humor has a huge following because – I figure – most people like a good laugh as often as they can get one. They don’t publish jokes in the traditional sense. Their humor is largely visual, comprised of Texcentric memes that are all the more funny if you’re Texan. For instance, you will see a picture of wind turbines with the caption: Texas is so hot we’ve installed fans outside.

I Love Texas is perfectly named. It focuses on celebrating Texans’ love for their state, in breathtaking photos of Texas landscapes, cityscapes, and historical stories in short form. They have a sister page called I Love Texas Photographs which is certainly worth following. I Love Texas greets you every morning with a stunning photo that says, “Good Morning from the Great State of Texas” and signs off every night with a prayer for those in the military serving overseas.

Texas Hill Country is likely the granddaddy of this genre, with nearly a million followers. It has been around since before Facebook, as a site devoted mostly to exquisitely beautiful photos of the Texas Hill Country. Now it still has the photos, but has added nostalgia, music, historical stories, humor, etc. THC also has a companion page named simply Texas.

Texas Highways is a publication of the Texas Department of Transportation. It is one of the few older publications that has successfully migrated onto the net and gotten better. I enjoyed Texas Highways as a kid for their photographs and enjoy it even more today on Facebook for the same reason. But is more than photographs. It is, in their words, “the official travel magazine of Texas and the ultimate guide to the Lone Star State.”

Texas Back Roads is, like the title suggests, a backroads travel page. They say that, “From Abbott to Zunkerville and Antiques to Ziplines, we are letting you know what there is to see and do in Texas.” TBR also provides a good deal of historical stories.

Texas Storm Chasers is the premiere Texas weather page on Facebook. It further proves that the weather in Texas – and in general – is an everlasting subject for discussion. Started by two high schoolers in 2009, their aim is “to provide weather information in the evolving digital age and to share our professional storm chasing content.” Here you will find unsurpassed video and photographs of extreme weather.

Texas Country Reporter is the Facebook companion to the TV show where you’ll get links to the stories and additional Texas-centric posts that they think you’ll enjoy.

Texas Monthly is another of the classic Texas publications that has adapted to the digital age quite well, where they remain the “indisputable authority on the Texas scene,” from arts to food to travel.

Now, I said I wouldn’t mention any business pages in the list but I must include the largest following in that category by far. With 65 million “likes,” it is – drum roll please – Texas Hold’em Poker. Yep. 65 million people learning when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em.

The Honorable Mentions, which you can find by searching Facebook:

Best of the West (West Texas)

Texas Farm Bureau (Splendid Photos)

I AM A Texan

Texas Pride

Images from Texas

Texas Pride

Texas Mountain Trail Region (West Texas)

Vintage San Antonio

Flashback Dallas

The Texas Observer

100% Houston

El Paso Historical Society

Landscapes of the Texas Hill Country (Superb photos by master photographers)

The King Ranch

Schumacher Cattle (Texas Longhorns)

Cowboys of the Waggoner Ranch

Stories from Texas

My Favorite Texas Landscape Photographers:

Wyman Meinzer (State Photographer)

Carol M. Highsmith

Tim McKenna

Jeff Lynch

Larry White

David Pine

Rob Greebon

Travis Yust

George McLemore

Matt Sklar

John Martell

Srini Sundarrajan

Texas Standard: July 31, 2017

Rewriting a constitution. That’s now a possibility in Venezuela. We’ll explore how the US may respond. Plus, there’s been a full reversal at The Texas Department of Public Safety: Local law enforcement won’t have to pay to send evidence to be tested at the crime lab. And we’re traveling back in Texas time to when typewriters were tech breakthroughs, and Austin landed IBM. Also what’s behind a surge in new HIV cases in San Antonio. And, advice from one mom on how to raise a Texan, in California. All that and so much more today on the Texas Standard:

Lingo for Gringos: Ten Spanish Words All Anglos Should Know

I call this commentary “Lingo for Gringos” mostly because it rhymes, but it should really be called “Ten Spanish Words all Texans Should Know.”

I’m not talking about the easy words like cerveza, vino, tortilla, taco and baño. And I’m not talking about the common words you say every day that are actually Spanish words – patio, plaza, armadillo, mosquito, etc. I’ve chosen 10 words that are important for their social significance. If you know very little Spanish but at least know these words, you will have a clue as to what is going on around you. Listos? Ready? Here we go.

Aguas means “watch out” or “be careful.” My wife uses it often when children are in danger: “Aguas, aguas,” she says with the same tone of impending doom, whether they are really about to walk off a cliff or could just get gently bumped by the fridge door. The expression has its roots in the cities of long ago when water used to be tossed out the second story windows and walkers below would warn their companions by yelling “aguas.”

Guácala is a slang word, popular throughout Latin America. It means “gross” or “disgusting.” It is also fun to say. It has an onomatopoeic quality that makes the word sound like what it describes. It animates the moment. Guácala, for all that disgusts you. And a true grammarian who just heard me torture the pronunciation of the adjective form for onomatopoeia probably just said it.

Ni modo is two words, but always sounds like one to me. I love this expression. It means “What can you do?” Or “It is out of our hands.” Or “Whatever will be will be.” Ni modo. Someone says, “They’ve changed the computer system at work again.” Ni modo.

N’ombre is not the meaning for “name,” but a word with an apostrophe that is short for “no, hombre.” N’ombre. “No way.” It has many nuances of meanings, but for the most part it expresses surprise, disbelief, or even shock. “Did you know Lisa and Chuy eloped?” N’ombre!

Güey means dude. N’ombre, güey! “It can’t be, dude!” The Big Lebowski would be the ultimate güey. “El Güey aguanta.” “The Dude abides.”

Chisme is gossip or rumor. Good, juicy stories. “Tienes chisme?” “Got any good gossip?” When Facebook was new, I would hear people say, “Facebook es puro chisme,” meaning that private information could easily slip out and travel to all the last places you would want it to go.

Naca or naco. Don’t confuse this with narcos – those who work for cartels. A naca is a girl or a woman who sports unsophisticated tastes or at least less sophisticated than you. She is often, like true rednecks, proud of being authentic. If Jeff Foxworthy spoke Spanish he might do this routine: “If you think Sharpie eyebrows are high-fashion, you might be a naca. And if you think mullets are in – hate to say it – ‘N’ombre, que naco!’”

Sin vergüenza means without shame, or without embarrassment. It is used when someone stuffs her purse with buffet food at the reception. We say, “sin vergüenza.”

Resaca is a hangover. It is a common word in the Rio Grande Valley. It is another name for the oxbow lakes so common there. Just as the oxbow lake is a leftover or hangover from the Rio Grande, resaca is the name for a hangover from the tequila of the night before. “Tengo una resaca horrible.” “I have a horrible hangover.”

Órale is famous for having about 40 different meanings achieved by variations in vocal inflection and situation. Some linguists say it has 820 meanings depending on the tone, time of day, style of hair and what shoes you’re wearing. It is used for enthusiastic affirmation. Someone says “vámonos por una cerveza” and you say, “órale.” It means, “Let’s go ahead,” “absolutely,” “let’s do it,” “hurry up,” “wow,” and dozens of other things. One Texas English equivalent for órale is simply, “there you go.”

So there you have the 10 words that will be helpful to you. I want to say gracias to my gorgeous wife Lupita who has taught me these words and many others I cannot share on radio. But these 10 will serve you well in our increasingly multilingual world.

Soy W. F. Fuerte. Estos son Cuentos de Tejas. Algunos son ciertos.

I’m W.F. Strong. These are Stories From Texas. Some of them are true.

Three Texas Pride Stories

I’ve been sad lately noticing how the oral tradition seems to be dying. Twenty years ago friends would often come up to me on the street and say, “Hey, I got a story for you.” But now they just come up to me and hold out their phone and say, “Seen this?” And laugh. Not the same.

Today I thought I’d do what I can to fight this trend. I’m going tell you three short stories – or jokes – that showcase our Texas pride. You can even pass them on, if you think them worthy.

The first one I heard from my father when I was about 10. It was my first exposure to this genre – and I loved it. It went like this:

“A man from Kentucky was talking to a Texan and bragging about all the gold they had in Fort Knox. The Kentuckian said, “You know we have enough gold in Fort Knox to build a wall of solid gold, six foot high, all the way around Texas?”

The Texan said, “Is that so? Tell you what, you go ahead and build your wall – and if we like – we’ll buy it.”

The next story comes from John Gunther’s book, “Inside U.S.A.” You remember Gunther, who was famous for the quote, “If a man’s from Texas, he’ll tell you. If he’s not, why embarrass him by asking?”

Gunther says that a man from Boston was visiting a friend in Texas. The Bostonian was tired from traveling and went to bed early. As he pulled back the blankets, he was shocked to find a 12-inch lobster waiting for him. Rather than let the Texan get the better of him with this practical joke, he picked up the lobster and took it into the living room where his friend was reading the paper.

He held up the lobster and said, “You sure do have big bed bugs in Texas.”

The Texan peered up over the paper, squinted at the lobster and said, “Well, must be a young ’un.”

The last story, truly a Texas classic from the 60s, concerns a prideful Texan who died and went to Heaven. Saint Peter was giving him an orientation tour of Heaven, to get him acquainted with beauties of the place.

He first showed him some snow-covered peaks reminiscent of the Swiss Alps, and the Texan said, “Well, they are nice if you like your mountains all covered in snow that way. I like mine with a light dusting now and then and otherwise hot and dry like we have ‘em in Big Bend.”

Next, Saint Peter took him by the elbow and flew him up to a peak overlooking a gorgeous mountain river. He said, “You ever seen a more beautiful blue than that?” The Texan said, “No, but you want to see the most beautiful turquoise river ever, you need to see the Devil’s River in West Texas. Sorry to mention him, but that is the name of it. And don’t get me started on the Guadalupe for beauty and beer that was…”

Saint Peter interrupted him and pointed to the Alpine forest waving in the gentle mountain breeze before them. The Texan said, “Impressive, but nothing can steal my heart away from the Piney Woods of East Texas. You ever seen the Big Thicket?”

Exasperated, Saint Peter flew the Texan over to the very edge of Heaven and had him look over the side. Far, far below there was dense fire, and smoke as far as he could see. Saint Peter said, in an almost threatening tone, “What do you think of that?”

The Texan said, “That is impressive and clearly out of control, but I tell you what, we got some ol’ boys down in Houston who can put that out for ya.”

Gerrymandering

A federal court ruled recently that Texas lawmakers were intentionally discriminatory when it came to drawing congressional maps. That was the inspiration for this Typewriter Rodeo poem.

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