crowd gathers in the outdoor amphitheater at Rosedale Park and many generations take a spin on the dance floor, gracefully shuffling their feet to the music. While the performers may not be as well-known, the vibe is warm and neighborly. 303 Dartmouth, 210-271-3151. Katy Vine

33. Rev Your Engine at the Art Car Parade, in Houston

At some point along the journey from filling your bucket to kicking your bucket, you’ll no doubt go looking to be inspired. I recommend taking a curbside seat along Houston’s Allen Parkway, between Taft and Bagby, for the annual Art Car Parade (this year’s event is May 8 and begins at 1 p.m.). What will roll past are more than 250 of the funkiest, freshest, and oftentimes funniest vehicles for creative expression on the planet. Some of the art cars will be painted with wild designs, others sculpted and welded into something altogether new. Yet more still will find themselves the beneficiary of adhesives, much like the “Sashimi Tabernacle Choir,” a 1984 Volvo covered bumper to bumper with serenading Big Mouth Billy Basses and Rocky the Singing Lobsters. S. Hollister

34. Read Horseman, Pass By

Larry McMurtry, the author of forty books and counting, is the one indispensable native-born Texas writer, and the place to start is with his first novel, a trim 179 pages compared with the massive epic Lonesome Dove. In Horseman, Pass By (1961) McMurtry uses the familiar iconography of the western—cowboys, cattle, cacti—to dramatize the cultural bleakness of provincial rural life in the fifties, the still-relevant issues of racism and sexism, and the transition from the frontier to the modern world. The novel introduced a frankness of four-letter discourse into a literature steeped in gentility, nostalgia, and nature worship. The narrator’s voice brought Texas fiction into the twentieth century: “It hadn’t been long since half the boys in the town had had a wild soiree with a blind heifer, out on a creek one cold night.” No one ever wrote about dating livestock better than that. Don Graham

35. Memorize the Texas Pledge of Allegiance

“I’m a native Texan.” I have uttered those words more times than I can count, but what about “Honor the Texas flag; I pledge allegiance to thee, Texas, one state under God, one and indivisible”? To my horror, I realized earlier this year that I didn’t know the pledge of allegiance to the Texas flag. As my daughter stood with her right hand over her heart, reciting it earnestly with her first-grade classmates, I looked at the flag and fumbled. I vowed to learn it. And during the process, the words really hit me. Texans are Texans first. And Texans know that being a Texan is more than where you’re from, it’s who you are. So go ahead, say the pledge. Live the words. Be proud. Be Texan. PBM

36. Get Your Mexican Food Fix at H&H Car Wash and Coffee Shop, in El Paso

Some of the world’s great culinary palates have singled out this quirky, multitasking hole-in-the-wall as one of the best places to eat Mexican food. The El Paso institution, which was opened by a Syrian immigrant in 1958, has been featured on the cover of Saveur, lauded by the James Beard Foundation, and visited by Julia Child, who politely devoured a plate of huevos rancheros. But it doesn’t take a fancy-pants gourmet to recognize the appeal of squeezing in at the turquoise Formica counter and tucking in to a plate of cheese-stuffed chiles rellenos (deep-fried before your eyes) or a stack of thin enchiladas rojas while your ride is hand-washed outside. The experience is unapologetically cross-cultural: Immigrants and visitors, Texans and non-Texans all set aside their differences of creed and language and station as they polish off their carne picada and watch as their Ford trucks and Honda hybrids are buffed to an immaculate shine. 701 E. Yandell Dr., 915-533-1144. JB

37. Ride the Ferry Between Galveston and the Bolivar Peninsula

The nighttime version: When I was growing up in Galveston, it was the perfect end to a high school date. Park at the ferry landing, walk onto the boat, and find a spot along the forward rail. The wind would blow cold off the water, and your sweetie would snuggle up for the twenty-minute trip across Galveston Bay to the Bolivar Peninsula. (The return trip was often better because it was into the wind.) The daytime version: Grab a loaf of whole wheat, stand at the back rail, and cast your bread upon the water. Seagulls spot the activity and flock to the scene of the action. Their cries fill the air as they swoop and dart and intercept the crusts in midflight. Seldom does a piece reach the briny deep. 409-795-2230. PB

38. Lose Yourself in History Near Amarillo

One of the great places to get lost in search of Texas history is about ninety miles outside Amarillo, where you are left with the same feeling the settlers had: the awe of the limitless plains and the lonely sound of the wind. Take Texas Highway 207 north from Stinnett for twelve miles until you see an inconspicuous sign with an arrow pointing east that reads “Adobe Walls.” Follow that road until it turns to dirt and the flat plains turn to rocky breaks, some fifteen miles; descend the cliffs to the lovely Canadian River Valley; and discover the location of not one but two of the most famous battles in the state’s history. In 1864 it became the site of one of the largest Indian battles of the Civil War, when Colonel Christopher “Kit” Carson was dispatched with 335 men and 75 Indians to put an end to Comanche and Kiowa attacks on wagon trains (Carson barely escaped with his hide). At the second Battle of Adobe Walls, in 1874, 28 men and 1 woman held off more than 700 Indians under the command of the Comanche chief Quanah Parker. It was here that Billy Dixon is said to