You’re talking to a fifth-generation Texan here.
There’s a reason we haven’t left yet.
Seriously, I work at a tourist-oriented bar in downtown San Antonio–the #1 tourist destination in Texas–and I get a lot of people with built-in prejudices against Texas. One of 'em–a guy from Philly–was waxing particularly poetic about the many reasons and ways in which Texas was inferior and ripe for abuse. (Gun control–or lack thereof–and Dubya and rodeos and twangs, etc., etc. yawn)
And so I told him something to which he had no reply. (Him, or any other Texas-bashing two-bit tourists I’ve run across.)
I said, “You’re from Philly, and yet you’ve obviously spent all this time thinking about Texas. The funny thing is, Texas hasn’t spent two seconds thinking about Philly!”
He couldn’t think of anything in response that wouldn’t prove, even further, how much more time he’s spent thinking about my birthplace than I have about his.
The #1 question I get over the bar from tourists is: “Why don’t you sound like you’re from Texas?”
I’m from South Texas. Texas is so big there is no “Texan accent.” There’s South Texas, North Texas, East Texas, West Texas…and all of them have their own unique twang, or lack thereof. We’re all entitled to be proud regardless.
We’re Texans.
And for the record, Texas is the only state which is allowed to fly its state flag solo. And we do.
And anyone who doesn’t like it is more than welcome to kiss my Lone-Star flying, y’all screaming, Deep-in-the-heart-of-proud-to-say-it Texas ass. 