No. There IS no good excuse for an adult lifelong Texan not to know the state is bordered by Mexico.
Senior highschool biology class, female classmate after hearing that bleach will kill the HIV virus almost instantly, but of course it’s highly poisonous do we can’t use it internally inquired, “why can’t the um, scientists just take out what makes bleach poisonous?”
To which the teacher replied after rolling her eyes back to the original orientation, “Because, then it wouldn’t be bleach.”
Also, after telling someone from Florida I met online (and no slouch, either) I reside in Michigan, he indicated he had no idea where in the US it was, or even what its most identifiable shape was. My mind was blown.
When I worked in a group home for the [severely] mentally ill, one of our residents was a wild-eyed schizophrenic with an alarming physical and vocal resemblance to Hank Hill. One night he woke up about midnight and came into the living room where I was watching TV (the hardest part of the graveyard shift is staying awake) and said (and picture Hank Hill asking this):
“Jonathan how far is Alpha Centauri our nearest star neighbor?”
Uh… I think it’s about two or three light years or so.*
“So that’s how long it would take to get a signal there from a TV set on Earth?”
Uh… yeah… unless you… yeah.
“Alright then…” and he went back to his bedroom.
A few minutes later I went into the kitchen for something, came back into the living room and there he was standing in front of the TV set, and his actual words:
“Apropos to our previous conversation, does it matter that we’re on cable?”
*Alpha Centauri is 4.4 light years away, but this was before the Internet and in a house with neither reference books nor a full set of cards. I once played poker with some residents using a 49 card deck and 3 homemade clubs.
I live in Rochester, NY. There is a Rochester, MN. At work once, answered the phone. This guy was interested in taking an online class. Had lots of information he wanted to rush out at me. I weather it all with something like this:
Ok, sir. Yes, sir. I understand. Yes, you can do that. I’m not sure about that, I’ll have to ask. I can either set up an appointment over the phone with an advisor or I can transfer you to the Online Learning department, where they might have more information about that. Yes, we’re located in Rochester, NY. No, that’s not near NYC. It’s about 6 hours north. Near the lakes. Yes, near Canada. Yes, sir. No, sir, I’m sorry, I don’t know the answer to that question. I’m the office assistant, and I’m sorry to say that the only advisor in the office right now is in a meeting. The others are out to lunch, but if you urgently need to get into a class next quarter, I can have our walk-in advisor give you a call when she gets back. Around 1:00, sir. No, I’m sorry, I do know XXXXX, but for more information, you’d have to talk to our Online Learning Department. I can give you their phone number or transfer…Yes, I am aware that Kodak is in Rochester…no, sir, we’re located in New York.
And on and on.
Then he asks me: “Do you know that there’s a Rochester, MN?”
I say, in exhausted fascination at this point, “Yes, actually, I did know that…Is there something else I can help you with?”
Then he says, and I swear I’m not kidding, “Well, yeah…what’s the difference?”
Me: “I’m sorry, what’s the difference with what?”
Him: “Between the Rochester there and in Minnesota.”
Me: “…They’re in different states, sir.”
Him: “Oh.”
I still don’t remember who I palmed that crazy fucker off on, but I do remember apologizing in advance.
Actually, I think a larger scale makes it easier, not harder – I can name the countries of western Europe much easier than I can the English counties.
But I haven’t really got across just how screwed up British counties are: this site explains better than I could what the problems are, but looked at from my own perspective, I’m at the same time living in:
a)the Historic County of Northumberland (though outside the modern Administrative County of the same name which is soon to become a Unitary County)
b) the postal county of Tyne & Wear, which used to be a Metropolitan County, but no longer exists except as part on my address and as an organisational area for some governmental, quasi-govermental, and public organisations, and
c) the Metropolitan District of North Tyneside, which is a Unitary Authority and the thing I pay my council tax to.
So which map are we identifying counties on? This one? Or this one?
We’ve got four (I think) Newcastles in the UK: Newcastle upon Tyne and Newcastle-under-Lyme in England, Newcastle in Northern Ireland, and Newcastle Emlyn in Wales. Unless it means the Newcastle in New South Wales, Australia.
Which Tripoli did you have in mind? 
Come to think of it, I can’t name all the counties in my home state, let alone place them. I think I can do about 4 out of (runs to check wiki)… 10. Can most people here do their home states?
Now as for the 50 US states, no problem. In 7th grade we had to draw in all of the states on a blank map and do all the capitals. Dunno if I could still do that, but naming all the states is no problem. Also, did anyone else find it a LOT easier to remember the capitals before you got older and aware of more cities in each state? Especially considering that the capitals generally aren’t the largest city in the state.
Well, I’m from Britain, but I’m from the West Country. Somerset and Dorset have looked more or less the same as long as I’ve been alive, which is admittedly not all that long.
Still, I lived in H&W for a while, which was presumably once the separate administrative entities of Herefordshire and Worcestershire, and I lived in the Midlands for a while and I’ve got no clue whether Warwickshire used to be its own county or not, etc., so I suppose you’re right. I was talking about administrative counties, incidentally; the historic county appellations are pretty meaningless unless you’re the publisher of Debrett’s Peerage, or something.
It knows of the Newcastle in NSW, but it’s apparently never heard of any of the UK Newcastles except the one in Wales. I’m assuming you’re in or around the one on the Tyne, since you said you live(d) in T&W…
Naming all the states is a lot easier for me than naming all 67 counties in Florida. Having grown up in the southern region of the state, I have a hard time identifying the vast majority of the counties in the northern region of Florida.
It seems that, after you learn about more large cities in other states, it becomes more difficult to pinpoint which one is the capital out of all the cities you’re aware of per state.
Just after high school, I was wasting a few months at the local community college. I wore my boyfriend’s jacket, which had an embroidered dragon on the back, just about every day. One day, I was brushing my hair in the bathroom when a lady walked in and asked me, “Is your dragon fierce or gentle?” I stammered, “I have no idea, it’s not my jacket,” and bolted. I still can’t figure out what the hell that was all about.
I can name all the states - eventually - but I couldn’t begin to name all the counties in my state. I’m in Texas, we have a bunch of counties! I can recognize the ones surrounding Harris County, where I live…
And to echo someone, a native Texan not knowing Mexico shares a border with Texas is just about criminal…
Not so much an odd question as an odd thing in general. One of my daughter’s friends is obsessed with llamas. In art class (this is one of the better schools in the area, by the by) the teacher gave the children the assignment of drawing their favourite animal. Obviously, this girl drew a llama. She’s actually a pretty good artist (I have seen some of her works), but when she got her grade for the drawing, the teacher had given her an “F” – because they were supposed to draw a real animal. :dubious:
The girl was upset and confronted the teacher.
Daughter’s Friend: But it is a real animal – it’s a llama!
Clueless Teacher: Llamas do not exist. You got an “F” because we already drew fantasy animals. You may draw a real animal and turn that in at a letter-grade demerit.
DF: :dubious: but llamas are real animals!
CT: They are not.
Uh, yeh – the girl dropped it, but had I been her parent, that teacher would have gotten a field trip less than 2 miles up the road to the llama farm there!
Snap a photo of a llama. Snap a photo of the sign of the local llama farm. Send them to the teacher.
With a note that says ‘I believe in llamas!’ or ‘Llamas live!’
I think the little girl should be encouraged to draw a picture of something like a two-legged amphisbaenian, or some angler fish. Or even a naked mole rat. Anything disgusting, unreal looking, and just a little silly.
Of course, with a photocopy of the appropriate Britannica article with the picture. (And a picture of the local llama farm, too.)
I assumed you were, for some reason.
Or if you need to explain where anything actually is, for instance. Take a look at that second map – what county is York in? York. Not Yorkshire, not even North Yorkshire. It’s got it’s own Unitary District. Bradford’s in Bradford. Leeds is in Leeds… hell, look at that whole strip across the country from Liverpool to Hull. My sister lives in Sheffield – not the city, the Metropolitan District – despite being way out in the countryside and nearer to Rotherham.
The whole thing’s been gerrymandered into meaninglessness. Sure, you could sit down and memorise the map if you wanted, but what would be the point? You might as well learn the parish boundaries and electoral constituencies while you’re at it.
…
Sorry, gone off on one, there. It’s not your fault, I just think it’s all very… untidy.
Yeah, I’m in North Shields, in North Tyneside: near Newcastle upon Tyne, which is in the Historic County of Northumberland, or the Ceremonial County of Tyne and Wear, or the Administrative County (Metropolitan District) of … Newcastle upon Tyne. Take your pick.
A boss once asked me how many stamps it would take to get an envelope to Memphis from our city. He then proceeded to argue with me that weight had nothing to do with it.
IIRC, we were required to memorize all the counties in Texas while in grade school-----IIRC, that is. (I’m a native Texan)
Not so much a question asked as much as a request.
Mumble years ago when I was about 19 or 20 some friends and I were having lunch at a restaurant. I was wearing typical college guy clothing, ragged jeans, old t-shirt. Clothes were clean and I had had my shower that day. I went to the restroom and there was a woman waiting outside the doors. As I was going in she said to me, “My son is in there, please don’t kill him.”
Normally I’ve got a comeback for everything but that totally blindsided me. All I could come up with was “Sure thing.”
Aside: When I lived in Georgia there was a restaurant giving free meals to anybody who could identify 20 randomly chosen counties on a blank county map of Georgia without help. Georgia has 159 counties. (Texas has about 270 or so, but Georgia’s well under half the population size and under a quarter of the geographic size of Texas; it’s an almost ridiculous number of counties.) The meal was never claimed because nobody ever got more than a few right, because probably not 1 in 10,000 Georgians can name all the counties and not 1 in 1,000,000 could place them all on a map. (My homestate of Alabama has 67 and I seriously doubt I could name half of them without help, so my hat’s off to anyone who can name Texas’s. 
)
When I was working in Foggy Bottom in Washington, DC, I would often walk through the park and past the Lincoln Memorial on my lunch hour. I was sitting on the wall in front of the Memorial one day when one of my fellow Americans walked up to me, apologized first, then asked “what is that” while pointing up the steps at the Lincoln Memorial. I told him, without any irony, that it was the Lincoln Memorial. He thanked me and headed off up the steps.
Another “not a question,” but rather a remark. I’ve told this story before, but I think it’s a good’un.
About 15 years ago, Mr. S and I were walking out of (I think) Kmart to our car. We were holding hands as is our wont. At the time he basically looked like Jesus: long hair, beard. I had very short hair and was wearing my usual long dangly earrings and carrying a big honking purse. I should mention at this point that he is also abut 12 years older than I am; though he’s always looked young for his age, you’d have to be insane to think he was younger than me.* And we are about the same height (him 5’6", me 5’7"). Both dressed in jeans and T-shirts or something similar.
Anyway, as we’re strolling along, we sense a person coming up alongside us. Just as he passes us, this old man says jovially, “Must be a mother and son!!” Then he saw our faces, kind of jumped a bit, and veered off in another direction.
I still have no idea which one of us was supposed to be the mother and which the son.
- Though now that I’ve passed 40, my hair is turning gray at a rather rapid pace. I don’t mind, because I’m hoping to get my mother’s and aunts’ beautiful silver hair by the time I’m 50, as they did. But seeing as how Mr. S (age 52) has about three gray hairs, and his much older brothers have yet to hit 50% gray, I’ve been anticipating hearing that line from the old SNL Pat Stevens sketch with Phil Hartman as Barbara Bush: “You must be so proud of your son!” (referring to GHWB).