King George and my Beloved Texas

"Are there any TEXANS here tonight?!" George Strait called out Friday night at USANA.

And, folks, I couldn't tell you how loud I screamed or how high I jumped but it was apparently pretty impressive. A girl's gotta represent, ya know.

George continued, "I've got something right here for the Texans tonight." He starts playing Texas and, y'all, I'm not even kidding when I tell you I teared up a little bit during the second verse. And I was one of the ten people in the whole crowd that could (and did) sing every word.

I wouldn't be a Willie fan.
Nobody'd swim the Rio Grande.
I wouldn't be an American
If it wasn't for Texas.
Fort Worth would never cross my mind.
There'd be no Austin city limit sign.
No Lone Star of any kind
If it wasn't for Texas.

Since moving out of state seven years ago, I've been ribbed about my Texas pride. I just grin and agree--I'm a dyed-in-the-wool Texan. The idea of state pride is something I never knew was exclusive to Texas. Growing up, I'd always assumed everyone would be proud of the state they hailed from. I didn't think Texans were any different, merely that our pride was actually justified.

The reasoning behind a Texan's state pride is hard to describe. I'd have to describe the way a field of bluebonnets looks in the setting sun, the way it feels to see the first pitch thrown at a Ranger's game, the memory of reciting the Texas pledge of allegiance every morning of elementary school, the way my heart burns when I see the Lone Star flying and how I grin every time I see a longhorn because, seriously, why are their horns so dang long?

I'd have to recount the way I felt when I walked into the Alamo for the first time, how the streets of Dallas look at twilight, how I get a lump in my throat when I think about Jim Bowie, Sam Houston or Davy Crockett. I could tell you that Texans are just plain ol' decent people, that you can't throw a rock in Texas without hitting a white Ford pick-up and no matter who you are, you'd better have your bum in a church pew come Sunday morning. I can still remember every word of Texas, Our Texas from singing it in every school assembly as far back as I remember and you'd laugh if you knew how many times I've seen John Wayne in The Alamo or how loudly I sing this song in the shower.

But even all that won't tell you folks why I love Texas because I can't make you feel that attachment to my homeland, my stomping grounds, the backdrop to my tenderest memories, the place that still calls to me with a whisper of, "You belong here." I don't love Texas because she's better; I love Texas because she's mine.

The time will come someday when I've lived more years out of Texas than in her but that won't stop me from claiming her as my home. And just like George, I'll be a Texan 'til the day I die.