Mess With Texas

Movie image for TwisterI say mess with Texas, ’cause it sure as hell is gonna’ mess with you. I’ve said it for years. Why do people put up with it? Everything in Texas wants to kill you. It’s like God’s experimental test grounds for militarized nature: killer bees, fire ants, scorpions, rattle snakes (who no longer rattle), cactus, locus trees, pickled okra, Branch Davidians…

Then you’ve got apocalyptic hail storms like grapefuit-sized goiters from heaven, firestorms, and Cary-Elwes-killing, Bill-Paxton-chasing F5 twisters known as the Finger of God! Is it just me, or 

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Hunting the Texas German-Redneck

German immigrants, circa 1911
German immigrants, circa 1911

In Texas some necks are red. Some necks are German. And a select few necks are both. While my experience with German-Americans is limited, I am married to one and so feel entitled to make sweeping generalizations. The chief of which is that German-Americans are the practical, hardworking sort of folk that know a spade from a shovel.

Having originated from Middle America (or Germany itself) and transmogrified in the hill country of Texas, these mythic German settlers have become a sort of super redneck. Let’s just say that if Crawford Texas was a wee bit further south and west (that is to say a wee more German) then George W. would have figured out a way to increase military spending, bring world peace, cut taxes and balance the budget all while discovering a better-adapted wine grape, and all in his first term.

But alas, these super rednecks of German heritage (let’s call them ROGHs) prefer a behind the scenes sort of benevolence, and so few have heard of them.

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