The Raven

The Greatest Texan 

Sam Houston

Who was a Tennessean (Virginian by birth) through no fault of his own

“The secession leaders tell us if war comes that the superior courage of our people with their experience of the use of firearms will enable us to triumph in battle over ten times our number of Northern forces. Never was a more false or absurd statement ever made by designing demagogues. I declare that Civil War is inevitable and near at hand.


The Raven

When it comes the descendants of the heroes of Lexington and Bunker Hill will be found equal in patriotism, courage, and heroic endurance with the descendents of Cowpens and Yorktown … When the tug of war comes, it will be Greek meeting Greek. Then, oh my fellow countrymen, the fearful conflict will fill our fair land with untold suffering, misfortune, and disaster.”
— Sam Houston with some prescient words on the eve of the Civil War in February, 1861


Texas Inferiority (Betcha Never Heard That One)

Texas has (a little bit of) an inferiority complex

Here is why:


The Father of Texas

Texas really was never a part of the ‘Old Plantation’ South. We were, for the most part, dirt farmers, miscreants, outlaws, and such. Most of us did not own slaves. We just worked. We were poor. When secession issues came to town, we were too busy fightin’ Comanche’s to give a shit.

“Take yer sea-session somewhar else. We doan cotton to tha’.

But after the election of Lincoln we came around and our Johnny Rebs made us proud. Fought like Comanches, we did.

The very first acronym was GTT: Gone To Texas. (You can look it up) Translated into “This asshole has left his family, his debt, and his crimes. He has GTT. Good riddance.”

Sam Houston was governor of Tennessee. He went GTT. And thank God he did. Sam (The Raven) was adamant in his opposition to secession. He had a Cherokee wife…

I love Texas.

We are far from Perfect. (Well not that far)

And we know it.

That matters: the knowing of it.

But do not fuck with us.

You will regret that.

My Favorite Texan (Today Anyway)


What can I say?

Tanya (famous for ‘Tanya Moments’–dancin’ on tables an’ stuff–Gotta love Tanya!)

She ain’t no Kris Kristofferson, no poet,  but Damn! She embodies all that is Texas: Vain, rough, loud and proud!

Texas! A whole nuther country!

Happy Birthday TEXAS!

Poor Little Dillo; Couldn’t Handle His LoneStar

Brother Dave on Texas:

Today is Texas Independence Day!





Sorry the photos are fukked up.

I don’t know why WordPress tries to get ‘Cute.’

Actually, I DO KNOW:

WordPress is Fucking Useless!

An Original Press Photo (photographer unknown)



Live at Poor David's Pub 1995, founding members in center

Original Dixie Chicks–Dallas

1989–1995: Original bluegrass group

The Dixie Chicks were founded by Laura Lynch on upright bass, guitarist Robin Lynn Macy, and the multi-instrumentalist sisters Martie and Emily Erwin in 1989. The Erwin sisters later married and each changed their names twice to Martie Seidel, then Maguire and Emily Robison, then Strayer. The four took their name from the song and album Dixie Chicken by Lowell George of Little Feat,[5] originally playing predominantly bluegrass and a mix of country standards. All four women played and sang, though Maguire and Strayer provided most of the instrumental accompaniment for the band while Lynch and Macy shared lead vocals. Maguire primarily played fiddlemandolin, and viola, while Strayer’s specialties included five-stringed banjo and dobro.

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia


My Erstwhile Step-Sister, Madelyn told about this group, after seeing them perform in Dallas.

Circa, 1990

Thus began my love affair.

With The Dixie Chicks; Not with Madelyn


California on my Mind But Texas Always in my Heart


Loved it. Hated it. Few decades ago I could truthfully say, “Hey! I’ve spent half my life in California.” (See This Or This)

Now I can say, “Hey! I’ve spent most of my life in Dangerous Desolate Places.” (Middle East &  East Texas) That worm did turn some. (Go Here or There)

As a Native Texan, I am supposed to always hate California and yes, Yes to all you Texans out there: I know this. I get it. Put the rope down.

Yet I more love than hate California.

In California I learned to appreciate music, art, science, literature, hippies, beaches and blondes. My first kiss was not in California, but I didn’t miss that milestone by much–In California.

In Texas I learned to appreciate drankin’ whiskey and beer , smokin’ dope, playin’ football, chasin’ cheerleaders, and Raisin’ Hell.

Arriving home to Texas late 1968 folks made fun of my ‘California Accent’ if there even is such a thing. (There were no Valley Girls in the Sixties as far as I know). My ‘accent’ was ‘just the way normal people talked’ as far as I was concerned. Texans sounded funny to me (Blasphemy!)

My Attitude Adjustment didn’t take long to take.

In California I was a Little League Baseball Star. In Texas no one gave two shits about baseball. I had to learn football. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, but I had all those baseball skills which were not worth a cup of spit in Texas.

I love Texas and don’t get me wrong. But once in a while, when I see a photo or a news bit showing San Francisco, or San Diego, or a beach, or a blonde… I hear this guy singing:

Sometimes I even hear this blonde singing:

And I tear up. (Just a little bit) but then I throw on some Bob Wills and Remember Who I am.

Bob Wills

And thus remembering, I go out and buy a case of Lone Star Long Necks and listen to this guy:

And I Thank The Spirit of Sam Houston I Am A Texan.