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Category: Texas

Published on Leave a comment on Flying Colors
Image from David Martin's article

On March 2, we Native Texans celebrate Texas Independence Day. On this day in 1836, the Lone Star State had our own version of signing a declaration of independence - not from England, but from Mexico. Our nickname comes from the design of the Texas flag, a 'lone star' on a color block field of red, white and blue. 2021 marks the 182nd anniversary of the Texas state flag. David L. Martin has written a well-researched article on its history. The current flag's simple design was influenced by events in Europe and South America in the early 1800s.

Some interesting tidbits from David's article:

The role of maritime commerce and communication was a powerful influence in flag design. In the heydays of piracy and privateering, it was important to be able to identify ships from a distance. Flags were simple and effective ways to communicate this information in the days long before  radio and cell technology.

La Bandera Estrella Solitaria ('lone star' flag),
Chilean flag circa 1817.
Can you spot the difference between this
and the Texas flag?
Image from David's article.

Ever wonder why so many flags look so similar? Lots of color blocks. Lots of simple patterns, like stars juxtaposed with stripes. I just figured the flag designers were lazy (like me), or lacked artistic skills (also like me). But no! Similar-looking flags were the 'Prado' handbags of the maritime world. Crafty mariners knocked off the flag designs of powerful countries such as England and the USA to ward off possible attacks from marauders. Anything appearing similar to the stars and stripes or Union Jack from a distance might be enough to send profiteers in search of a weaker target. At the very least, potential victims could gain some time escaping while the perpetrators stood around peering through their bleary 19th century spyglass, wondering if was worthwhile to attack.

So many men are mentioned in David's article about flags, I suppose because they were the ones involved in the politicking. But who was doing the actual sewing? Who spent hours hunched over a spinning wheel/loom/needle? The women, that's who! Several created a variety of eye-catching designs for their husbands to carry off with them when they joined a military expedition. Sorta reminds me of when folks nowadays hit the Dollar General for poster board and tempera paint before they head off to a political rally.

Jane Wilkerson Long's 1818 design. Image from David's article.

In fact, the infamous 'Come And Take It' flag was made by two women in Gonzales from some leftover wedding dress silk. The image of the cannon, and the defiant message to the Mexican Army, were hand-painted on, rather than sewn. And you thought consignment was your only option for a dress you will never wear again!

Click-O-Rama

Much of this week's Click-O-Rama comes to us from another fabulously informational article via the Atlantic (magazine, not ocean) about the history of flags in general (not just Texan).

Mongolian Peace Banner, made from the tails
of white mares. Image from here.
  • My day is not complete unless I learn a new word. Today I learned there is a word for the study of flags: vexillology; and that my composer seems to think this word needs to be underlined in red. It does not. I checked. It comes from a Latin word, vexillum, that describes a type of banner carried by the Roman military.
  • The same company that made the American flag that was raised by soldiers over Iwo Jima in that iconic World War II image also made the flag that draped Abraham Lincoln's coffin. Annin Flagmakers was founded in 1847 and still going strong today.
  • Red, white and blue came to represent independence and the republican model of government after the Netherlands won their independence from Spain in 1648. You may be thinking, hey, wait a minute - it's the Netherlands. Isn't it supposed to be orange, not red? Yes, it was orange for a time. But the orange morphed into red as the flag's official color hundreds of years ago; some say due to the yellow pigment leaching out of the red it had been blended with to create the orange.

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Published on 2 Comments on 50th Hits Close To Home

This post originally appeared in November 2013.

I am no different from many other bloggers in that you will see a variety of posts from me this month on the topic of the Kennedy assassination. And why not? Dramatic, compelling, mysterious, with significant political and historical ramifications - it pushes all my History Nerd buttons.

I also have a couple of extra buttons on this topic. I am a native Texan. Dallas is my hometown. I grew up in Oak Cliff, not far from many of the key events that unfolded that day.

We were not living in Dallas in 1963. After bouncing around the Milwaukee Braves farm system for a few years (Boise ID, Lawton OK), my dad decided professional baseball was not going to feed a family of four. We moved to Denver, where my maternal grandmother lived, and Dad got a real job. I was five when Kennedy was killed. I remember being highly annoyed that boring grownup news shows were interrupting Captain Kangaroo. Yes, I am embarrassed about that now, but that's my vivid recollection of that day.

Not long after that terrible day, my folks decided to move back to Dallas. Both had grown up there. They met in 7th grade, were high school sweethearts. The title of this post is not a cliche. After reading a great article in Slate magazine (which btw features my cousin Darwin Payne, author and retired SMU history prof), I realized several of that day's events were literally close to my childhood home as well as that of my parents, especially my mom.

This cheesy screen grab of Google Maps brings things into a little more focus. After Oswald left the grassy knoll, he returned to the community of Oak Cliff across the river from downtown Dallas. At the time of the assassination, he was renting a room in a boarding house on Beckley Avenue (purple pin). Beckley Ave. also happens to be the exit off I-30 one would use to get to the house I grew up in (pink pin). Much has changed over the last fifty years, but on my end of Beckley Avenue, it's still the home of Lone Star Donuts and Ripley Shirts.

Oswald's boarding house on Beckley was about a block from Lake Cliff Park. This park was the site of much enjoyable recreation in the 1950s. It had an enormous public swimming pool (long since filled in), which happened to be my mom's first job as a teenager. According to Mom, much adolescent hijinx occurred there. Part of me wants to know more. The other part has adopted a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy.

The Slate article also says Oswald walked a mile or so south on Beckley from the boarding house to near W. H. Adamson High School (aqua pin). This is the first I have heard of an Oswald connection to that school. That's where my folks fell in love. That's where my dad played basketball and baseball and earned a scholarship to Sul Ross State University. That's where they made some lifelong friends who still get together occasionally for some of that classic Tex Mex you just can't get anywhere outside of Texas. I don't know if school was in session that day. It would have been the Friday before Thanksgiving. The thought of an armed assassin strolling along the sidewalk near a school filled with students gives me the chills.

After passing Adamson, Oswald had his fateful encounter with Dallas police officer J,D. Tippitt at about 10th and Patton (green pin). Reading that really rocked my world. My mom grew up on Patton Street (yellow pin). As the eldest of six, she was married and out of the house in 1963, but some of the family still lived in her childhood home then. They lived a few blocks north of 10th Street, close enough to have possibly heard the shot that ended Officer Tippitt's life.

Oswald's last stop in Oak Cliff was an attempted escape through the Jefferson Blvd. retail district. He was captured in the Texas Theater (blue pin). I don't recall ever visiting it in my 20-odd years living in Oak Cliff. For many years after the shooting, it was considered uncouth as a Dallasite to show morbid interest in anything related to that event. The closest I have been to Dealey Plaza is driving home from downtown through the triple underpass. Never, ever, walked the grassy knoll or pointed with finger or camera lens at the sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository. But as Oak Cliff residents, we certainly passed near or shopped at Jefferson Blvd. on an almost daily basis. It was home to many iconic Oak Cliff businesses, including Red Bryan's, the Charco Broiler, Skillerns Drug Store, and the Lamar & Smith Funeral Home (which I mention because the Smiths were our neighbors).

They say times have changed, that Dallas is no longer primarily known as 'the city that killed the President'. During this time of year when we are asked to pause and reflect on our blessings, that is certainly one of the many things for which I am thankful.

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Published on Leave a comment on Southern Expressions: The South In Your Mouth

This post originally appeared as part of my participation in the 2016 A to Z Blog Challenge.

I was born and raised in Texas. You might find some argument about whether Texas is South or West or some combination. But when it comes to southern expressions, Texas definitely qualifies as South.

I grew up listening to many of these expressions issue forth from friends and relatives. I thought nothing of it, until I once politely refused a second helping at a non-Southern soiree because I was 'full as a tick'. Jaws dropped. Eyes bulged. It was at that moment I realized I was, in fact, bilingual.

The great thing about learning to speak and understand southern expressions is that you don't have to learn a new language. You just have to rearrange some words from the language you already know.

Some southern expressions have gained widespread familiarity, like y'all (all of you, or maybe just you) and fixin' to (about to) and bless your heart (you're a moron).  But there are many, many others. Most require some translation. Here are a few of my favorites.

Let's do the dogs first:

that dog won't hunt - whatever you just proposed or suggested has fatal flaws in its logic

I've got no dog in that fight - I really don't care what the outcome is

don't get the big dog off the porch - leave well enough alone; sometimes rephrased in other parts of the country as 'don't poke the bear'

Okay, done with the dogs.

all hat no cattle - full of bluster; someone who is too full of themselves for no apparent reason

I don't know whether I'm washin' or hangin' - one of my mom's phrases to indicate she's crazy busy

colder than a witch's tit in a brass bra - one of my dad's jewels. Sometimes you hear the first part by itself, but Dad being Dad, he always likes to add the bit about the bra.

Speaking of cold: butter wouldn't melt in her mouth - she is a cold person; shorthand for bi***

Feeling twitchy? You may be nervous as a long-tailed cat in a rocking chair factory or a one legged man at a butt kickin' contest

not my first rodeo - both my husband and I are overly fond of this one. It just means you've done whatever it is you're doing before. Often used in a snippy tone in response to someone who may express doubts at your ability to perform the task at hand.

fish or cut bait - make up your mind; occasionally more crudely expressed as sh** or get off the pot


happy as a pig in sh** - believe it or not, I've probably heard this said about newlyweds more than I care to remember. Some people substitute 'mud' in polite society, but sh** is what they really mean.

 

that and a nickel will get you a cup of coffee - whatever this refers to is worth zero zip nada

knee high to a grasshopper - Southerners hear this phrase about eight thousand times from older relatives when attending a family reunion or any time they haven't seen you since you were a kid.

It says something about southern culture that there are so many expressions for someone who is, shall we say, somewhat low in the IQ department:

not the brightest bulb
not the sharpest knife in the drawer
ain't got the sense God gave a goose
doesn't know enough to come in out of the rain
dumb as a carrot

In addition to the 'full as a tick' fiasco, I probably get the second highest number of quizzical looks when I use a Southernism to describe something that is diagonally across from something (kitty corner) or in disarray (cattywompus).

When I was a teenager, my dad sometimes said I would argue with a fence post. I thought it was a compliment.

If you're traveling with a Southerner and they say their back teeth are floating, you best pull over at first opportunity so they can use the facilities.

I get that he needs to look this way for a role, but yikes.

My cousin Nan contributed this one. Unfortunately I find myself using it frequently. For example, when watching the recent Academy Awards and trading red carpet attire critiques with my daughter via text, I told her Casey Affleck looked like Fido's tail.

If my brother and I happen to be out and about and observe the person walking ahead of us who is, shall we say, overly endowed in the posterior, my brother will inevitably whisper to me that her rear end looks like two beavers fightin' under a bear rug. And inevitably I will laugh my head off.

 

If you're like me and trying to embrace the new minimalist fad and get rid of too much stuff, here's another one of my brother's jewels that might help the next time you are tempted to buy more stuff: I need that like a hen needs a flag.

Photo by Ruth Hartnup on Flickr

My strategy when learning a new language is to pick one or two phrases that might fit in with your lifestyle and try them out, gingerly at first, until you get the hang of it. Maybe tell your loved one their new outfit is fine as frog's hair. Or tell your kids to quit playin' possum and get up before they're late to school. And if I might offer a suggestion: when dining out with non-Southern friends, don't mention ticks at the dinner table.

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