When in Texas…

If you've never been here, you probably have all kinds of ideas about Texas. Admit it, you're picturing everyone in cowboy hats and boots, hooking their thumbs into belts that feature enormous silver buckles and spitting tobacco juice on the ground. You're hoping to see women with big Texas hair and men wearing far too much denim, all speaking with a thick drawl and using phrases like "howdy, pard'ner" and "knee-high to a grasshopper" and "chicks and ducks and geese better scurry." It's certainly what I expected when I moved here, but in the 2 1/2 years I've lived here, I've never experienced that side of Texas.

Until yesterday, that is, when I spent 8 hours at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo. Folks, you have never seen anything like it (I know this is true, because I still don't have any readers in Montana). For most of the day (until the poseurs showed up just to hear Faith Hill sing), CameraMan and I were the only people wearing sneakers. I seriously would have walked right into one of the many booths selling cowboy boots and bought a pair just to fit in…you know, if they didn't cost $200.

It was such a full day that I'm having trouble processing it all. We did so much. We ate beignets doused in powdered sugar, brisket doused in barbecue sauce, and candied almonds from a stand inexplicably named The Nutty Bavarian. We paid far too much for beer. We walked around inside and looked at booths selling all manner of cowboy/girl essentials such as chaps, tractors, massage chairs (and after watching the actual rodeo I understand why those are necessary), and just about anything you could possibly want with fringe on it. We strolled down many aisles of cattle and horses and pretended to be interested in them. We entered the petting zoo although we were not with children (or children ourselves, obvs). I petted a deer (a dead ringer for Bambi), some very small goats, a sheep, a bunny, and a piglet that was less than a day old. After CameraMan had to drag me bodily from the petting zoo, where I would have happily stayed all day long, we went to the horse show (booooring but impressive), and then to one of the real highlights of the day, the pig races. The pig races are pretty much exactly what they sound like: pigs racing. Around a very small track. At breakneck speeds (for the most part). With ridiculous pig-themed names like "Barack-o-ribs Obama" and "Arnold Schwarzenhogger." Hilarious, I tell you. Hilarious.

And we hadn't even gotten to the actual rodeo yet. 2 hours of pure calf ropin', steer wrestlin', barrel racin', buckin' bronco ridin' good times. It felt like we were visiting a foreign country, which I imagine is what first-timers must feel like at opening night of the opera, what with all the special lingo, parties you're not invited to, and people you've never heard of being treated like big big stars. Except that the opera doesn't usually start out with the lights dimming down for a prayer in which God is thanked for "rodeo fellowship," among other things. And at the opera (on a good night) nobody gets their jaw broken by a steer horn and then keeps riding in what is evidently a show of "heart." And, unfortunately, at the opera there is no constant commentary to educate the rookies on what's going on. I'd kind of like to hear that, actually.

The day was capped off with a kick-a** concert by Faith Hill. Damn, that gurl can sang! And she's raht purty, too. Ahem. We enjoyed it immensely.

I'm so glad I went and saw that side of Texas, the one that fulfills all those stereotypes.

Although, to be fair, I walked around all day long wearing a t-shirt that read "Democrats have more fun," and nobody shot me.

So maybe not all the stereotypes.