The gun control debate may soon involve discussion of plastic printers. On Sunday, a Texas company released a video of its founder firing “the Liberator,” a handgun made entirely from plastic parts that they printed themselves.
Ask most Texans, and they’re likely to tell you that we are a friendly bunch. But, like most states, we have our share of bad apples. The Southern Poverty Law Center, an Alabama-based collection of civil rights lawyers and advocates, compiles a list of extremist and hate groups every year on its Hate Map, and this year, Texas ranks at no.2 in the nation with 62 active groups.
I don’t usually respond to email invitations from people I don’t know, but the invite from Judy Robinson, who runs one of Houston’s A-list estate sale companies, was hard to resist: “Estate Sale from the Houston Residence of the late Mildred Yount Manion II, Heiress from an Important Texas Oil Family and Kentucky’s Famous Spindletop Horse Farm.”
Beyoncé doesn’t hang her hat in Houston these days, and rightly so: H-Town is a hot spot for all the single ladies, and Beyoncé ain’t one. In fact, three Texas cities rank among the ten best in the country for unattached, heterosexual women looking for a date, or so says a February 3 study from NerdWallet.com.
“The bonfire symbolizes two things,” reads the 1947 Texas A&M freshman handbook. “A burning desire to beat the team from the University of Texas, and the undying flame of love that every loyal Aggie carries in his heart for the school.”
THEY BEGAN ARRIVING AT THE MISSION PARK They began arriving at the Mission Park Funeral Home in San Antonio early on a Friday afternoon. They came in packs, riding two, sometimes three abreast, their motorcycles roaring loudly enough to rattle all the funeral home’s windows.
Scene: The second floor of the Marq*E Entertainment Center, a mall in West Houston, around midday. A fifteen-year-old girl, TAMI, and thirteen-year-olds PATTI and ANGEL are standing together in an arcade. Each is wearing tight hip-hugger jeans. TAMI is a petite, talkative girl with Irish features, a spray of freckles, and long hair that has been dyed the color of a plum.
I met Laura Bush for the first time in early May 1995. An interview I had scheduled with the governor had to be changed from afternoon to evening and from the Capitol to the Governor’s Mansion. I was invited to a casual dinner, along with my wife. Mrs. Bush would be there. The interview was a lost cause, but the evening wasn’t.