One of the fun things about making a move is having new experiences. Moving to a new state widens the discovery arena. Sometimes it’s really dramatic, like when I moved from California to Massachusetts. The two coasts are very different! It took me most of a year to understand the dialect! Moving from California to Texas hasn’t been as dramatic as my first move out of California, but then I’ve lived in several states since then.
I’ve discovered that Texans definitely do not like being pinned down about much. They consider themselves to be fiercely independent. If you are born and raised in Texas, you’re Texan. No need for any ethnic identifiers, that’s for sure. There’s also a strong contingent that still wave the Confederate flag or who talk secession (yes, the illustrious governor resurrected that consideration a few years ago). Texas may be geographically in the south, but what south? Not southwest nor deep south, that’s for sure!
I’ve mentioned many times that we live in a rural area. Thankfully, it’s a sophisticated rural area. People have their teeth and the gun racks are only adorned during hunting season (yes, deer hunting is huge and making your own deer sausage huger!). Cowboy boots and hats, wrangler jeans and rodeo buckles don’t look out of place at all. As a woman, however, I definitely do not wear enough sparkle or jewelry to blend in!
The last time I was at the hairstylist, I was reminded that I’m still not a Texan. You know you’re STILL not a Texan when you’re surprised to see a man come into the salon with spurs! My high tech husband can verify!
We were in for our routine hair appointments. My husband was getting his hair cut and I was sitting on the couch, looking out the window when I noticed a man walking from his truck toward the entrance. He had a big-ass truck and trailer with a golf cart (I don’t think they call them that, but that’s what it was). Cowboy hat, wrangler jeans, rodeo buckle, cowboy boots…and (had to look again to be sure) spurs!
Since I couldn’t exactly ask him about his spurs, my only recourse was to eavesdrop in hopes of learning why he would be wearing spurs to a hair salon. If this was a barbershop, maybe I could see it. He was telling the stylist all about the work he still had to do out on the ranch that day, and that was why he had the cart with him. He wasn’t even going to be riding a horse!
Oh well, I still don’t know exactly why he was wearing spurs, but I won’t be so surprised the next time I see someone walking about town with spurs…and I’m still not a Texan.
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