Charlie Llewellin, Roberto Parada, and Matt Diffee.
Photograph by Kenny Braun.
Only a few years ago, the word was understood (if it was used at all) to mean chicken wings or jalapeño poppers or nachos. That time is gone forever. As even the proudest Luddite now knows, an “app” is something you download onto your handheld device or tablet, a helpful
DishingYou folks must be a passel of damn Yankees. First, in Texas we don’t “make” our grub; we “fix” it [“Home Plates,” April 2011]. As in, “I believe I’ll fix some breakfast.” Second, that Dutch oven y’all show on page 112 appears to be a plain ol’ cast-iron pot.
Photograph by Randal Ford.
Stephen Harrigan, John Burgoyne, and Patricia Kilday Hart.
The U.S. Constitution says nothing about public education, but all the state constitutions have clauses addressing it, and reading through them is a mildly inspiring way to spend half an hour. Arkansas: “Intelligence and virtue being the safeguards of liberty and the bulwark of a free and good government, the
Site SeeingWhile reading my March copy, with the “175 Years of Texas” headline and the beautiful, enticing scratch-and-sniff, it was only appropriate that I swell with pride, as I so often do with our family copy of the journal. Hell, the word “terquasquicentennial” at the top of the cover alone
June Naylor, John Burnett, and Al Reinert.
The first person I think of when it comes to cooking like a Texan is Enrique Madrid. You probably have someone you think of, your father, perhaps, or your grandmother. I think of Enrique, a historian, archaeologist, cook, defender of the borderlands, author, and lecturer whose family has been living
Power of AttorneysConcerning your February cover story [“Power Company,” 2011], in which you discuss Texans for Lawsuit Reform, I have three comments: First, Dick Weekley is the primary founder and moving force of TLR. I am proud to have been at Dick’s side at the beginning and throughout TLR’s journey
Dan Winters, H. W. Brands, and Pamela Hastings.
Bum RushTrue to his Arkansas hillbilly roots, Jerry Jones has become little more than a buffoon, sporting bad toupees for the national television cameras that are recording his weird mannerisms and spasmodic antics during his team’s games. And now you crown him and his roster of overpaid underachievers Bum Steers
Big moments call for big efforts. This year marks the 175th anniversary of the victory of Sam Houston’s ragtag band of volunteers over the Mexican army, which led to the creation of the sovereign Republic of Texas. In the almost two centuries since then, much has changed. Texas is now
Michael Ennis, Mimi Swartz, and James H. Evans.
This issue went to press four days before the start of the most important legislative session of our lifetime, when lawmakers face, in addition to the testy, high-stakes business of redistricting and the supercharged debate over immigration and voter ID, an epic fiscal crisis: a budget shortfall of up to
Full of BeansYou failed to list a restaurant that is not in any way fancy but has the best Tex-Mex food: El Mercado on North Burnet Road in Austin is the place I mean [“Let’s Have Mex-Tex,” December 2010]. The tortilla chips are tasty, the service is excellent,
Table TalkI am not a Texan. Nor a Republican. Nor even a Baptist. And when I saw the cover on immigration, I thought, “Uh-oh, here we go.” Then I saw “The Immigration Dinner Party” and read the profiles of the guests [November 2010]. I figured at least half
A wise man once said, “Beware of football Bum Steers.” Baseball is fine, and so is basketball, since both of those seasons will have wrapped up by the time the January issue goes to press. But football is a different story. Just when you think a player or a coach
Mark K. Updegrove, Sterry Butcher, and Patricia Sharpe.
Innocence FoundIt’s been nearly ten years since I became aware of Anthony Graves [“Innocence Lost,” October 2010]. It seemed as obvious then as it does now that he is another victim of Texas justice. It is incomprehensible that he was ever considered a viable suspect, much less one who
“Take the grips up to the attic.” That was Harry Truman’s response to a reporter who asked him, as he arrived back home in Independence, Missouri, after leaving the White House, what he intended to do first (“grips,” for all you kids out there, used to be a common synonym
Van Ditthavong, David Dorado Romo, and John Phillip Santos.
Quarterback SneaksWhile Bryan Curtis’s piece on Texas quarterbacks sure got me in the mood for some pom-poms and pigskin, missing among the photos was former Stephenville High and University of Houston gunslinger Kevin Kolb [“Arms Race,” September 2010]. The Philadelphia Eagles QB certainly merits a nod over some
The job of most editors, myself included, is to delight, entertain, surprise, and inform their readers. The majority of the time, when it comes to choosing a cover story, we try to keep the emphasis on the first three, since the other job of most editors, myself included, is to
Marfa BlightsI take offense at your recent portrayal of the people of Marfa [“Breaking Away,” August 2010]. You state, “Marfa doesn’t seem to wake up till noon.” Yes, there are some imports—city folk, so-called artists—in town who may sleep till noon, but this is originally ranch country, and
Christopher and Kathleen Sleboda, D. J. Stout, and Paul Burka.
Bryan Curtis, Katy Vine, and Bryce Duffy.
Dove TalesAs a fifth-generation Californian—a state that long ago lost its self-worth to historical revisionism—I applaud your insightful observations on Larry McMurtry and Lonesome Dove [“True West,” July 2010]. Luckily the rich history and traditions of Texas have withstood the politically correct demythologizing process that has destructively rewritten
On October 27, 1900, an Austrian-born mining engineer named Anthony F. Lucas spudded in an oil well on a hill near Beaumont. He’d drilled a previous well in the vicinity to a depth of 575 feet before running out of money and giving up, but this time he’d secured financing
Randal Ford, Kinky Friedman, and Patricia Kilday Hart
He’s been here from the very beginning. In February 1973 readers of the first issue of a brand-new magazine called TEXAS MONTHLY were treated to, among other stories, a strange but fascinating piece by a strange but fascinating writer named Gary Cartwright. Gary was already familiar to many Texans
I just finished reading your “ Where I’m From” issue, and fellas, I’m touched [June 2010]. My kids are hungry, my dog needs a walk, and my Facebook friends are wondering where I went. I have no opinion on the last episode of Lost, because I didn’t watch the
“Go With the Flow” was interesting and informative, but Charlie Llewellin’s description of the Devils River erred in stating that this is the one river in Texas that’s never been dammed [May 2010]. I am sure that many old-timers and not-so-old-timers in Del Rio and Southwest Texas recall
Rick Bass, Marcus Nilsson, and S. C. Gwynne
A place is lucky if it gives birth to good writers and luckier still if it is able to hold on to them. Most places aren’t, maybe because good writing about home is usually not celebration; it involves ambivalence, love mixed with hate, pride mixed with dismay, hope mixed
I am writing you these few lines to thank you and your staff for remembering my daughter on the fifteenth anniversary of her death [“Dreaming of Her,” April 2010]. It was a beautiful story that brought back a lot of memories for my wife, myself, and my family.
This is our second “Where I’m From” special issue, in which the entire magazine, front to back, is given over to stories about growing up in Texas. Last time, most of the essays were by staff writers. This time we turned to some of our favorite authors, folks like
Well, you knew it would happen. You publish the bucket list of things that all Texans should do before they die and e-mail messages from surly Texans proclaiming notable omissions pile up in your inbox like empty beer cans at a tailgate party [“The Bucket List,” March 2010].
Kenny Braun, Jan Jarboe Russell, and Tyler Jacobson
I’ve been thinking about a spot on the Brazos about a day and half below the dam at Possum Kingdom Reservoir, where a long, humped island narrows to a spit of sand. A couple of years ago I found myself camped there with three friends. We’d been paddling all
This past year marked an important, though largely unnoticed, milestone for fans of Selena Quintanilla Perez, the hugely popular Tejano singer who died at 23 on March 31, 1995: She has now lived in our memories for longer than she performed professionally. She was 9 years old when she started
Eddie Guy, Marc Burckhardt, and Gary Cartwright.
Your “Perry for President?!?” cover sent me to the phone to schedule a stress test. The last Texas governor to ascend to the White House left a scar on our great state that will always be a painful reminder of big business’s influence on our democratic process. To even suggest
Nate Blakeslee, Dan Cosgrove, and Lauren Greenfield
After picking up the mail and happily opening Christmas cards, I looked down and saw Tom DeLay on the cover of texas monthly [January 2010]. I almost threw up. But as I read that it was time for the Bum Steer Awards, I just thought, “What a great choice.”
Willie’s done it seven times. So has George W. Bush. Ross Perot and Troy Aikman have each done it four times. Kinky Friedman has done it three times (twice dressed as a woman). Lance Armstrong, Ann Richards, Rick Perry, and Selena have also done it three times (and pssst:
Jan Reid, Philip Burke, and Patricia Sharpe.
Loved the dance hall stories, especially those about Floore’s and the Quihi Gun Club [“Step Right Up,” December 2009]. I sure knew I was home in Texas, after twenty years of wandering the world with the Air Force, when I attended a wedding at the latter, surrounded by four
When Paul Burka was ten years old, his mother gave him a board game called Politics. This is the honest truth. Elvis’s mother gave him a guitar; Paul’s mother gave him Politics. He can still remember the rules. “You tried to capture the states, which were divided into six