Dear Texas,

I’m breaking up with you on a blog post, not a Post It note. (My apologies to Carrie Bradshaw.)

Texas, I refuse to be silent any longer. A few years ago, I wouldn’t have cared much about your antics. I get it–you’re different, unique one might say. You crave independence but you expect help when you get into trouble. You love guns, and pick up trucks, and Matthew McConaghey. You insist everything with you is bigger and that you’re great. I won’t deny you’re hot, and I don’t mean that in a good lookin’ kind of way.

As much as I observed you from afar for years, our relationship really began in 2017. When my Bostonian son decided to move to Austin, the island of quasi-sanity smack dab in the middle of your hot bed of dysfunction, I started to take an interest. Even then, from my perch here up North, your eccentricity and your somewhat violent tendencies entertained me but I never saw you as a threat to me personally. Then my kid defected to your “great state.” Bless his heart but I don’t understand the attraction.

In the past few years, I’ve spent time with you and honestly, I can’t get inside your head. I have never gotten over the omnipresent warning signs about guns in restaurants and stores. The idea that the guy sitting next to me at Torchy’s might be packing heat is a little unnerving. Still, I overlooked your quirks. As long as you fed me barbecue, Mexican Coke, and tacos for breakfast, I tolerated you but now, the shine is off your ‘lone star.’

When things turned icy last winter, I never anticipated just how cold you could be. You didn’t have the energy to keep up with demand. You failed miserably. People died. I can’t forgive you for your callous neglect. You clearly can’t be trusted.

With the ravages of COVID all around you, you encouraged careless behavior, framing the wearing of masks as an option, not a mandate. You have rights, especially the right to spread a deadly virus. Vaccine? According to you, you might as well take cyanide! But wait, now you say it’s common sense to take the vaccine. And you say you’ve run out of ventilators. You want the federal government to send supplies. If you were my kid, I’d tell you “Get over it! You did it to yourself.” Your manipulation and gaslighting won’t get past this Northerner. I trust no one and I know a fool when I see one. 

Unfortunately, you’re more than a little unreasonable and insist that no one can tell you how to live, even though 99.5% of your COVID deaths since February are among the unvaccinated. I guess that’s logical thinking since no one can tell you how not to die either. Again, it’s all about rights, right?

I can no longer ignore the craziness you refuse to suppress (unlike the votes you seem to have no problem squashing). When you started messing with democracy, I couldn’t remain silent. I expected someone to come to the rescue with a restraining order or a law to protect voting rights. Now you want to arrest concerned lawmakers who saw through your sick plan to mess with equitable voting practices and the gerrymandering so your kind could win. That’s sad. Despite your bluster, you fear you could never win on your own. To counteract the possibility of defeat, you make up the rules as you go. 

Texas, take a look at yourself. In the interest of decency and democracy, I beg you to change your ways. You are a poster child for how not to act.

As for me, I’m moving on. You can keep your buddies, Ted, Greg, and Johnny C. Have you met my friend, Beto? He’s your best hope for the future. I hope y’all come to your senses.

Sincerely,

Mami