Another thing I was wrong about

Texans are polite; they give you the benefit of the doubt. They get your coat and bag from the overhead compartment; they tell you the names of birds, like the white-winged dove, who says “Too wet to plow,” which means it’s a liar, at least most of the time, in dry-as-dust San Jose Mission, with the acequia a rusty trickle and the pockmarked millstone dead still.

Texans are hospitable; they steer you away from the vegetables and towards the rib-eye. Some Texans have a weight problem. Did you know that they also pull over and let you pass if you’re in a hurry? Most people would rather speed up and stay in front, even if they’ve got no place to go.

Texans don’t like littering. They have a slogan: Don’t mess with Texas. When I first heard it, I thought it meant don’t let the queers or the Jews or the uppity women in here, but it really means don’t throw your trash out the car window.