 As a native of a tiny northeastern state with low self-esteemand a small, dense, and collectively grumpy population, I fell pretty hard for Texas and its contrasting qualities the first time we met. It took very little effort to transplant myself to a happy life in Austin, and in the four years since I moved here, my love affair with the state that loves itself has blossomed. But since then, I've slowly been coming to terms with a secret fact, something the Lone Star welcoming committee and the PR people manage to keep quiet. That is, aside from being the biggest and proudest, Texas may well be the scariest state in the nation. The other day at a party I overheard a girl issue a warning aboutalligator fish. I demanded an explanation of this new threat, and she told me everything she knew: alligator fish are bottom feeders with big chompy teeth. They skulk around Texas lakes and rivers as if evolution passed them by, chewing on the extremities of swimmers who get in their way. A freshwater barracuda, if you will. Alligator fish are just the latest in a list of unusual and unpleasant vermin I've discovered since becoming a Texas resident. But our home state shouldn't only be remembered for its critters -- it's also host to threats from the sky. Don't look up, Texas has much more ominous weather patterns than I would have predicted from my previous northeasterly roost. | |
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