Har!
Go here, and read.
And I quote, "Well, in Texas we have lots of Texans, who generally are superior in almost every way."
No argument there, of course, but it did give me a chuckle. Sabra provides us with a hint (just a hint) of the Texan mindset / loyalty / culture / etc. that some Texas expats (yup) are famous for. Seems like every unit I was with in the Corps had at least a coupla guys that we might as well call, 'Tex'. You know the type, great guys, for the most part, lean hombres that talk with a relaxed drawl, partial to boots and large buckles, and seem to have a cowboy hat stashed away where ever they happen to be.
Heck, I knew a few that would take their boonie covers and, with a coat hanger graciously donated to the cause, shape the brim of their covers into cowboy hat shape... at least until the higher ups saw them on a hump with their modified covers.
Where was I... ah yes, Texans.
I remember this one guy, 'Tex'. Tex was a good guy, just a little bit on the stereotypical Texan side. Let me put it this way, if there was a country bar anywhere in the liberty area, he was there. He was always decked out in cowboy hat, boots, and a buckle you could signal aircraft with. His jeans all had that faded ring in the rear right pocket, and they were tight enough you could almost tell - well, you could tell way too much about the man, let's just say that.
When it came to the mortar gun line and elsewhere in the field, he definitely knew his stuff - Good.
He sneered at everything non-Texas related - Not so good.
Not that it wasn't humorous, or even bad, really, it just got kind of old, after a while.
One series of days at the mortar range, Tex was giving some grief to another Marine that was working the gun. Said Marine was from parts North, which to Tex was any lesser area North of, you guessed it, Texas. Tex started to look to me for some support in his tirade. He looked towards me because I told everyone I was from Texas. Guess I should have said that I was most recently from Texas. See, I've moved around a bit in my life, and rather than go into the whole life's story, I just tell 'em the last place I called home.
Yup, confession time, I wasn't born in Texas.
Now that I've been disowned by the truly die hard, I'll continue.
I might have a hint of Texas accent at times, and according to my family up north it's about all the time, but it's not really that thick (I think). I occasionally toss in the random y'all, or howdy, and have been here off and on long enough to pass as a native.
I also have the occasional gift for some accents, hollyweird, regional, or from my memory banks.
Tex's eyes about popped out of his head, when I broke into, "Yeah, Tex, bet 'cha did'n know I spent some time growin' up in Minnesoootah, did'ja now?"
"What the holy he-"
"Oh yeah!, Lotsa time up north, you betcha!"
Me and the other Marine on the gun had a blast from then on with poor, poor Tex.
ME: Okeey, you got dem HE rounds prepped over dere?
MARINE: Oh yeah, you betcha!
TEX: Jesu-
ME: Got 'em prepped super-quick?
TEX: ... jumping on a frigg-
MARINE: Yeah, super quick, don'cha know!
TEX: ... almighty!
I think we started to get out of hand when we started speaking Canadianese to the poor guy. I dunno when exactly it happened, but before I knew it, we were doing a passable impression of these guys.
MARINE: Got any smohkes, eh?
TEX: What the Hell? It gets worse?
ME: Take off. Not while we're firing, eh.
MARINE: Hoser.
TEX: Make it stop!
MARINE: It's kinda cold, think we can get out our tuques, soon?
ME: Sure thing, good day, eh.
MARINE: Oh yeah, good day..... eh.
TEX: Lord, take me now.
ME: Oh Jeez, 's not that bad, hoser.
Go here, and read.
And I quote, "Well, in Texas we have lots of Texans, who generally are superior in almost every way."
No argument there, of course, but it did give me a chuckle. Sabra provides us with a hint (just a hint) of the Texan mindset / loyalty / culture / etc. that some Texas expats (yup) are famous for. Seems like every unit I was with in the Corps had at least a coupla guys that we might as well call, 'Tex'. You know the type, great guys, for the most part, lean hombres that talk with a relaxed drawl, partial to boots and large buckles, and seem to have a cowboy hat stashed away where ever they happen to be.
Heck, I knew a few that would take their boonie covers and, with a coat hanger graciously donated to the cause, shape the brim of their covers into cowboy hat shape... at least until the higher ups saw them on a hump with their modified covers.
Where was I... ah yes, Texans.
I remember this one guy, 'Tex'. Tex was a good guy, just a little bit on the stereotypical Texan side. Let me put it this way, if there was a country bar anywhere in the liberty area, he was there. He was always decked out in cowboy hat, boots, and a buckle you could signal aircraft with. His jeans all had that faded ring in the rear right pocket, and they were tight enough you could almost tell - well, you could tell way too much about the man, let's just say that.
When it came to the mortar gun line and elsewhere in the field, he definitely knew his stuff - Good.
He sneered at everything non-Texas related - Not so good.
Not that it wasn't humorous, or even bad, really, it just got kind of old, after a while.
One series of days at the mortar range, Tex was giving some grief to another Marine that was working the gun. Said Marine was from parts North, which to Tex was any lesser area North of, you guessed it, Texas. Tex started to look to me for some support in his tirade. He looked towards me because I told everyone I was from Texas. Guess I should have said that I was most recently from Texas. See, I've moved around a bit in my life, and rather than go into the whole life's story, I just tell 'em the last place I called home.
Yup, confession time, I wasn't born in Texas.
Now that I've been disowned by the truly die hard, I'll continue.
I might have a hint of Texas accent at times, and according to my family up north it's about all the time, but it's not really that thick (I think). I occasionally toss in the random y'all, or howdy, and have been here off and on long enough to pass as a native.
I also have the occasional gift for some accents, hollyweird, regional, or from my memory banks.
Tex's eyes about popped out of his head, when I broke into, "Yeah, Tex, bet 'cha did'n know I spent some time growin' up in Minnesoootah, did'ja now?"
"What the holy he-"
"Oh yeah!, Lotsa time up north, you betcha!"
Me and the other Marine on the gun had a blast from then on with poor, poor Tex.
ME: Okeey, you got dem HE rounds prepped over dere?
MARINE: Oh yeah, you betcha!
TEX: Jesu-
ME: Got 'em prepped super-quick?
TEX: ... jumping on a frigg-
MARINE: Yeah, super quick, don'cha know!
TEX: ... almighty!
I think we started to get out of hand when we started speaking Canadianese to the poor guy. I dunno when exactly it happened, but before I knew it, we were doing a passable impression of these guys.
MARINE: Got any smohkes, eh?
TEX: What the Hell? It gets worse?
ME: Take off. Not while we're firing, eh.
MARINE: Hoser.
TEX: Make it stop!
MARINE: It's kinda cold, think we can get out our tuques, soon?
ME: Sure thing, good day, eh.
MARINE: Oh yeah, good day..... eh.
TEX: Lord, take me now.
ME: Oh Jeez, 's not that bad, hoser.
10 comments:
Are you saying, um, gulp, that you're a...a...Northerner, Murphy? I don't know what to say. I feel so...so...misled.
And I feel so full of BS. :-D
I guess everything from/in Texas is bigger, including Tex's ego. ;-) I gotta admit though, I enjoyed the description of his way of dressing.
"What a' yoo tookin' aboot, eh? I got no accent, eh?
Molson, eh?"
And your point is???? LOL I've got the hat, the boots, the buckle and the accent, but I'm not quite THAT sold on Texas :-)
That reminds me of my sister's favorite Texas story:
http://tinyurl.com/yw9g4h
:-)
Hey Murph! I grew up in MA but moved to FL, TX, WI and OH. I'm back in MA but they say I still have some of that TX accent!(last time I was there was in '79) Guess once you get bit...
Dang it all! Best Beef Jerky in the USA found in TEXAS! 'N some great Mexican food too!
My Gods but I loved texans while I was in the military. When we were deployed to the Seventh Fleet, cruising around in the Indian Ocean, we'd get tapes of last week's football games that were aired on the ship's TV station. No matter that the scores had been published in the paper a week before, one could always get the texans to bet on Houston or Dallas (depending on where their loyalties lay.) They never seemed to catch on that the points I wanted or offered always meant that they lost the bet by one or two points.
Being proud of where you are from is one thing - plain stupidity was very profitable for me.
Snigglefrits: Yeah, the ladies all love the big... buckle.
Sigivald: Ayup, ah ain't got no akceynt now, neither.
Old NFO: Heck, they practically issue that stuff at the borders.
Peter: Plumbers. Ha!
Firefox: Heh, I got a few stories about the self proclaimed 'Mass-holes' that I knew. I'll have to dust them off sometime, 'cause those guys had almost as much character as some of the Texans.
Gene: Yeah, some guys take the Football = Religion thing a little bit too far. Not really surprised on the betting thing, I'd be a bit more amused with betting on whether other Marines were gonna play bets.
Take off, EH, ya hoser!
((said with much respect and while s l o w l y backing away))
Murph, you are too much......hoser! LOL
It's OK, we love you anyway, Murphy.
And yeah, we're bad. I don't like admitting that my daughters were born elsewhere.
You did, though, manage to leave off the requisite Texas tattoo(s). Ya gotta have at least the State on you, and there's bonus points for a yellow rose.
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