has wild turkeys is that Missouri traded turkeys for Texas armadillos. I was born and raised in Texas, and I have never heard this story. She claims she is right, but I think it is hogwash. Can you set her straight?
Lisa Skelton Parman, Via Facebook
A: It appears that this Show Me State colleague of yours is attempting to show you just how far she can pull your leg. The Texanist directs you to call malarkey on her posthaste, for this is nothing more than a big load of preposterous and bad-smelling balderdash! Texas (it goes without saying, but the Texanist is going to say it anyway) is loaded with armadillos, and among its Rio Grandes, Easterns, and Merriam’s, the Lone Star State is also teeming with toms, hens, jakes, and jennys. Missouri may have a lot of wild turkeys too, and even spotted us a few gobblers back in the nineties when we were padding our numbers, but the Texanist as sures you that no armadillos changed hands as part of that transaction. The good folks over at Parks and Wildlife would never allow the use of our official state small mammal as currency. Come on! Turkeys for armadillos? What would the exchange rate be? Ask your co-worker, because the Texanist doesn’t know. This is ridiculous. Let’s see, the Texanist will trade you fifty armadillos for ten wild turkeys. Thank you. Have a nice day. Hey, wait—he found ten more dillos in the seat crack of his truck. What do you know about that? Lucky day. How about four racks of those St. Louis–style barbecued ribs, three cases of Budweiser, a couple of those Mark Twain novels, and two tickets for a paddleboat excursion down the old Mississippi? How many armadillos will that cost? Get outta here. Turkeys for armadillos. The Texanist has to go now.
The Texanist's Little-Known Fact of the Month:
Before he ever touched a football, or earned the nickname by which he is best known, or introduced such innovations as the three-point stance, the screen pass, the spiral punt, and the naked reverse, Glenn Scobey "Pop" Warner lived on a ranch outside Wichita Falls.