Effective immediately, absent compelling reasons, this blog will join [another blog] in not publishing any comments of anonymous commenters. All comments must be accompanied by commenters’ names (first and last) and real and verifiable email addresses.
— Mark Bennett, Trial Lawyer, Houston, Texas, July 14.
Texans are quirky Americans. Internet handles like Law Gringo, Smokestack Lightning and Young Cardozo Speaks won’t cut it with them. They like real names. Despite the Texas fondness for outsize egos, there are rules. Not many rules, mind you–but some. Texans are arguably the most secure humans on earth. They know who they are. Most Texans we know speak up, hate wasting time, and carry themselves with natural elan.
And they will always ask: “Who the hell are you?”. Then you respond by giving a name. However, as mentioned, it’s a real oddball tribe–so just humor them. The name you give must be your name, and it must be a real one, and very similar to the one your mother gave you, or that you give to the DMV. Got that? E-mail us if you are not clear on this.
Texans know that there are winners and losers in life. Not everyone gets to be a star–even in Texas. Asking who you are is the way to begin to keep track. And if in response you don’t even give your name–well, you know, Bubba, it sounds like you have made the decision for us.
At work here is a powerful instinct, folks. And we think it’s a bit stronger in Texas than it is in other regions of the U.S. It’s forged elegantly, and complexly, of several elements: human curiosity, friendliness, warrior spirit, playfulness.
Respect, too.
The story of Texas in earlier times is the story of America Writ Even Larger. When your stomping grounds are limitless and often uncontrollable spaces, and you live in a transient society, you learn to expect all manner of creatures–human and not human–to come up and down your path. You need to size them up quickly. You may not see them again for a while.
In much of America over the last 400 years, whenever there was a new animal in the woods, you needed to confront it, and get a sense of it. After all, you might have to kill it later on–for safety, for food or for fun. So the least you can do is get its proper name. Do some quick but accurate homework, study the critter a bit, and file it all away for the next meeting.