That's Right, I'm From Louisiana
This is in response to Scott Pliszka's Post "That's Right, I'm Not From Texas" which was in response to Andy Pace's post, "Texas."
Yeppers, Louisiana. The first seven years of my life and every summer till the age of 16. Yeah the swamp lands. When I go home to Louisiana, the first thing to go are the shoes, and then the accent. I suddenly forget how to conjugate verbs, use pronouns, and I start talking like I'm singing a freaking song. Half of all conversations consist of filler phrases such as "What you been doin' good?" or "I tell you what" or "IIIIIII Mean."
Yeah when I go home, most of my family drops the "N" bomb despite the black brother-in-law. My uncle constantly warns me about the end of days. And my other uncle always has a new farm animal - be it fightin' roosters, huntin' dogs, goats, horses, pigs, chickens, etc. Right now, maybe you're thinking what's so odd about owning farm animals? Well, my uncle isn't a farmer. He's been a construction worker for 30 years. I mean, they buy dogs, just to tie them up. Every time I visit, they have a new dog tied on a leash, and I'll be damned if I ever saw one person in that part of the family spend more than one minute with the dogs, yet they keep on buying them. And don't get me started on "collectibles." My family will keep a pair of hanes underwear for 20 years if they think it will be worth something one day. (Not that they don't do that already for other reasons.)
So what do I tell people when they ask me where I'm from? I proudly reply Texas. Then we exchange a couple Bush jokes and a couple good laughs. Every once in a while, I come across a preacher, in which case, I quickly plan my exit strategy. Typically "check out that chicks ass" works.
Now, I would gladly tell people I'm from Louisiana, but I really don't care to give anybody a geography lesson. At least Texas gives me something to talk about. And then everybody starts calling me "Texas," because it's easier to remember than my name. I have no problem being called "Texas." I actually kind of like it. As a matter of fact, I would be pretty jealous if somebody else showed up and stole my Texas nickname. My only problem is when I've known someone for a week, and they are still calling me Texas, and go as far as to refuse to call me by my real name. It bugs the shit out of me.
As far as being stereotyped, it's pretty obvious from the second that I say, "I'm from Texas" that I don't fit into any preconceived stereotype. After I utter those three little words, I've blown their minds as to what is possible in the universe.
As far as Texas being my home. I don't really know about that, but I do think it will be my home base. I see my self running in circles my whole life, always coming back to Texas. Ideally, I find a job that lets me run in really big circles rather than fartin around the U.S. Although that U.S. rode trip far exceeded all expectations.
This is in response to Scott Pliszka's Post "That's Right, I'm Not From Texas" which was in response to Andy Pace's post, "Texas."
Yeppers, Louisiana. The first seven years of my life and every summer till the age of 16. Yeah the swamp lands. When I go home to Louisiana, the first thing to go are the shoes, and then the accent. I suddenly forget how to conjugate verbs, use pronouns, and I start talking like I'm singing a freaking song. Half of all conversations consist of filler phrases such as "What you been doin' good?" or "I tell you what" or "IIIIIII Mean."
Yeah when I go home, most of my family drops the "N" bomb despite the black brother-in-law. My uncle constantly warns me about the end of days. And my other uncle always has a new farm animal - be it fightin' roosters, huntin' dogs, goats, horses, pigs, chickens, etc. Right now, maybe you're thinking what's so odd about owning farm animals? Well, my uncle isn't a farmer. He's been a construction worker for 30 years. I mean, they buy dogs, just to tie them up. Every time I visit, they have a new dog tied on a leash, and I'll be damned if I ever saw one person in that part of the family spend more than one minute with the dogs, yet they keep on buying them. And don't get me started on "collectibles." My family will keep a pair of hanes underwear for 20 years if they think it will be worth something one day. (Not that they don't do that already for other reasons.)
So what do I tell people when they ask me where I'm from? I proudly reply Texas. Then we exchange a couple Bush jokes and a couple good laughs. Every once in a while, I come across a preacher, in which case, I quickly plan my exit strategy. Typically "check out that chicks ass" works.
Now, I would gladly tell people I'm from Louisiana, but I really don't care to give anybody a geography lesson. At least Texas gives me something to talk about. And then everybody starts calling me "Texas," because it's easier to remember than my name. I have no problem being called "Texas." I actually kind of like it. As a matter of fact, I would be pretty jealous if somebody else showed up and stole my Texas nickname. My only problem is when I've known someone for a week, and they are still calling me Texas, and go as far as to refuse to call me by my real name. It bugs the shit out of me.
As far as being stereotyped, it's pretty obvious from the second that I say, "I'm from Texas" that I don't fit into any preconceived stereotype. After I utter those three little words, I've blown their minds as to what is possible in the universe.
As far as Texas being my home. I don't really know about that, but I do think it will be my home base. I see my self running in circles my whole life, always coming back to Texas. Ideally, I find a job that lets me run in really big circles rather than fartin around the U.S. Although that U.S. rode trip far exceeded all expectations.
posted by robbo at 6:51 PM
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