have made the most famous shot in the West, a blast that knocked an Indian off his horse at seven eighths of a mile. SCG
39. Attend a Day Party at SXSW, in Austin
If you’re short the six or seven hundred bucks it takes to attend the annual South by Southwest Music Festival—the long lines, closed-out shows, and overcrowded venues can be a drag, anyway—don’t let that keep you away from Austin in mid-March. Though some of the biggest bands stick to the official nighttime showcases, the spirit of rock and roll has gravitated to the daytime hours too, when dozens of bars, art galleries, and—why not?—barbershops host free showcases with titles such as Little Steven’s Underground Garage Day Party and Bands, Burgers, and Beers. Onstage—if there is a stage—are plenty of performers who don’t make the SXSW cut, but also plenty who do, and are just happy to play for as many people as they can, amid bountiful kegs and sunshine. Jeff Salamon
40. Pour Whiskey on John Wesley Hardin’s Grave, in El Paso
Life seemed to be taking a positive turn for the outlaw John Wesley Hardin: After serving fifteen years in prison, where he studied law, Hardin set up an office in El Paso and began courting a former bandit’s widow. But his luck turned in August 1895, when Constable John Selman gunned him down at the Acme Saloon. (The coroner is said to have remarked, “If Mr. Hardin was shot from the front, I’d say it was excellent marksmanship. If he was shot from the rear, I’d say it was excellent judgment.”) Concordia Cemetery hosts an annual Hardin murder reenactment each August at the grave site, where you may spot a few history buffs covertly pouring a nip around the headstone, but if you choose to pay your respects some other time, the cemetery’s 60,000-some residents won’t tell a soul. At the corner of Yandell and Stevens, off Interstate 10. KV
41. See the King of Rock and Roll, in Los Fresnos
Large wrought-iron gates with musical notes open onto Simon Vega’s eccentric tribute to Elvis Presley. Vega, who met Elvis in an Army chow line in Germany, turned the second floor of his small abode into a shrine complete with every knickknack and collectible imaginable: pictures, clocks, plates, neckties, statues, albums—even “Love Me Tender” shampoo. The personal tour culminates with a rare aural encounter, when your modest host plays a 1978 recording penned by Vega himself, “The Ballad of Elvis Presley.” 701 W. Ocean Blvd., 956-233-5482. KV
42. Spray-Paint a Car at Cadillac Ranch, Near Amarillo
If you head west on the Interstate 40 frontage road and enter the privately owned cow pasture with an unlocked gate, you’ll find ten Cadillacs, half-buried in the flat plains and covered with graffiti. The unusual public art installation is the brainchild of the millionaire prankster Stanley Marsh 3 and the infamous avant-garde art trio the Ant Farm, who wanted to create the ultimate sightseeing destination along historic Route 66. Nearly three decades ago the group dug ten enormous holes in a wheat field owned by Marsh and planted the cars—Cadillac models ranging from 1949 to 1963—nose down. (In 1997 Marsh relocated the exhibit two miles farther west as development encroached on the once isolated spot.) In the years since, the exhibit has been the best place for Texans to live out their dreams of being graffiti artists. So grab your spray paint, but don’t worry about getting pinched for a misdemeanor: According to the Amarillo Chamber of Commerce, “If you want to paint the cars, knock yourself out.” AV
43. Sit in Silence in the Rothko Chapel, in Houston
Yes, the paintings are dark, and they suggest the dark end the artist himself came to. But the light in the Rothko Chapel is magical and healing. I like to go on a day when the sun comes and goes and the paintings shift with the changes. The benches are hard and backless, so you aren’t tempted to linger—Dominique de Menil, the chapel’s patron, wasn’t big on cozy comfort—but if you stay quiet and breathe in the silence, something will move inside you. Soon enough, you are prepared to step into the busy world again, ready and ever so slightly transformed. 1409 Sul Ross, 713-524-9839. MS
44. Relax at the Live Oak Friends Meetinghouse, in Houston
You can find inspiration at the Rothko Chapel, but just west of the Heights is another sacred space I also love, the Live Oak Friends Meetinghouse. Sit on the simple white-oak pews near sunset and turn your head heavenward: That open space in the ceiling, the Skyspace created by artist James Turrell, becomes an homage to the fading day as the sky shifts from bright blue to a velvety navy. Sometimes a bird flits across your line of sight, sometimes you can feel the night air settle on your upturned face; always you are reminded of the solemnity and brevity of life, how it is impossible to catch and hold on to time, how it disappears, right before your eyes. 1318 W. Twenty-sixth, 713-862-6685. MS
45. Celebrate the Day of the Dead in San Antonio
El Día de los Muertos, which falls on November 2, is not nearly as gloomy as it sounds. The festival pays tribute to departed loved ones but is also a joyful, whimsical celebration of life. If you don’t feel up to building an ofrenda—an offering, or altar, that is festooned with candles, photos, marigolds, sweets, and the deceased’s favorite foods and possessions—then you can head to San Antonio, where the holiday is a citywide cultural event. Local galleries and museums display ofrendas, musicians honor conjunto greats who have passed away, dance troupes perform traditional Mexican folklórico, and Day of the Dead processions wind their way through the city. Of course, wherever you may be on November 2, you can always raise a glass of tequila and toast your ancestors. PC