A Temple native, David Courtney is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He joined Texas Monthly in October 2005 and in July 2007 debuted his wildly popular advice column, the Texanist. In January 2010 the Texanist was promoted to the back page where it is regularly the magazine’s most read feature. Courtney, as both “the Texanist” and himself, has contributed his talents to such features as the annual Bum Steer Awards, the quinquennial review of the fifty best barbecue joints in Texas, “The Great Terquasquicentennial Road Trip,” “The 50 Greatest Hamburgers in Texas,” “The 40 Best Small-Town Cafes,” as well as “Snap Judgment” and “The Texanist’s Parenting Quiz,” among others, like “Water, Water Everywhere,” for which he swam buck-naked in Lake Travis, west of Austin. He will be the recipient of many accolades, honors, and awards.
Nicknames, parental discretion, summer camp, and the best way to talk about breast enlargement.
Animal cruelty, greasy handshakes, offerings of meat, and Texas toasts—the spoken kind.
Oyster aphrodisiacs, hat manners, drill team attire, and why a man needs a weekender.
School colors, wedding music, spare-ticket reimbursement, and why not to plant a mesquite for dear old granddad.
Aisle-scooting etiquette, slaughtering a turkey, skunk remedies, and the proper way to approach a group of ladies at a dance hall.
The disappearing hi sign, an off-color in-law, outdoor urination, and the critical function of weather-related small talk.
School yard bullying, game-day taunts, gambling etiquette, and children who dislike bones in their meat.
Wayward dog droppings, “barbecue” versus “grill,” flag displays, and the best way to get a husband to slim down.
Roadside mysteries, state symbols, a daughter’s attire, and the proper display of local feats on water towers.
Rude diners, fraudulent Texans, anniversary presents, and the problem with mail-order steaks.
A fond look back at Temple, a.k.a. Ratsville and/or Tanglefoot, that fair burg wherein your dedicated advice columnist learned the location of the thin line between right and wrong.
Dance hall guilt, faded accents, SUVs with “Truck” plates, and the ancient initiation ceremony at which a young Texan male is presented with his first firearm.
The trouble with black beans, an unnatural attachment to Texas license plates, the perils of striking up a conversation in the restroom, and the discomfort of two men riding together on the same Harley.