Resident of Texas!

I have always wanted to claim that I'm a Texan.

No particular reason other than watching a lot of cowboy movies when I was a child and was impressed with the authority they seemed to have when they would say, "I'm from Texas."

Now, I think that was supposed to mean something special because it seemed to carry some importance; just being from that Great State. No one ever questioned it and no cowboy ever got any back-talk by openly declaring his statehood.

"Yep, he's from Texas. Better leave that hombre alone, I reckon."

Powerful medicine, being a Texan. I never heard anyone say, "I'm from Connecticut," or, "I'm from Nebraska." They would sound passive and weak next to the big, square-shouldered cowpuncher from the Great State of Texas, especially the ones from down around Eldorado or up on the Pecos. Those are powerful names and those cowpokes were someone to be respected.

Nope, no one ever messed with those Texans, especially the ones chewing on a nail instead of a wimpy smoke. Real men, they were.

Then, back in January, 1976, there was an opportunity for anyone to live in Texas when the Sunday Doonesbury cartoon strip gave an address to send in a boxtop coupon of any kind (if you had one) and Texas would send you an official Certificate of Residency! This was finally my big chance!

Now, that did sort of come as a surprise to the Texas government when they read it in the Sunday paper, too, but, being Texans, they decided that it was a Good Thing, and not just another regular good thing, so they decided to honor the few requests that may trickle in.

I mailed mine the next morning and it was among the first 30,000 requests the Texas Comptroller's office received.

Being a good ol' Texas boy himself, Comptroller John Sharp paid the bill from his own campaign funds, and they printed my certificate.