Texas, I will Only Miss a Small Part of You When You Secede
By: Greg Schwem
Tags: Texas, GOP, Humor, Politics, Comedy

Texas, I will Only Miss a Small Part of You When You Secede Greg Schwem Follow Dec 15 · 4 min read

This time next year, anyone landing in Texas may be faced with a very long walk through the airport, a journey that culminates in a large room and an interview with a suspicious Texas ranger who demands to know just what you’re planning to do in the Lone Star state. Ditto for anyone attempting to enter by motorized vehicle.

Sound far-fetched? Not if you’re Texas GOP Chairman Allen West or Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton, both of whom have floated the idea of leaving the United States of America following the Supreme Court’s refusal to hear, but no doubt willingness to hysterically laugh at, Paxton’s lawsuit seeking to invalidate 10 million votes cast for President-elect Joe Biden.

“Perhaps law-abiding states should bond together and form a Union of states that will abide by the constitution,” West said in a statement following the decision.

Mr. West, my first instinct was to say, “Go ahead,” as doing so significantly decreases the chances that I will ever meet you face to face. But then I envisioned what my life would be without Texas, a state I have traveled to often for business and, occasionally, pleasure. I would certainly miss the following:

Austin. No, I’ve never been to South by Southwest or Austin City Limits, but that’s immaterial. I’m happy just strolling up and down Sixth Street, listening to all types of music the city has to offer. Sixth Street is like Bourbon Street in New Orleans, but without that annoying vomit smell.

Beto O’Rourke. I’ve always liked the guy, even if he did post an Instagram story while getting his teeth cleaned. I liked him more after his emotions and pent-up frustration caused him to drop the F-bomb on live TV while being interviewed following the August 2019 mass shooting in El Paso. OK, he dropped it eight months earlier while conceding the Senate race to Ted Cruz; but so did I, and I don’t even live in the state.

George Strait. No, he didn’t write All My Exes Live in Texas, but I became a fan after hearing the song. Surprisingly, it was an old girlfriend who turned me onto the tune, with lines like, “And Allison’s in Galveston, somehow lost her sanity.”

Truck Yard. Food trucks, dogs, picnic tables, live bands and a treehouse all crammed into one amazing Dallas dining, drinking and commiserating experience

So yes, I would miss all of that. But, Mr. West, if you do choose to form your own country, state, territory, playground or whatever you have in mind, it just means outsiders will no longer have to deal with the following:

Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport. For some reason, American Airlines has decided that flights to any location worldwide must first stop at DFW. I have been forced to experience that airport while flying from Chicago to Minneapolis, Miami, New York City and multiple other destinations that required first traveling in the opposite direction and then backtracking.

Amarillo. I spent a week there one afternoon. Swipe left.

Hearing “The Big D” ad nauseum. Attention, anybody not living within the Dallas borders: You do not live in “The Big D.” Pull out a map if you need proof. I was first made aware of locationally challenged Texas residents in 1985 when I interviewed for a sports reporter position in Garland, Texas, and the editor offered me the job by asking if I was “ready to move to the Big D.”

Yes, it’s in Dallas County and yes, it boasts nearly a quarter million residents. But it’s not Dallas and never will be. I live in the suburbs of Chicago, yet I don’t identify as living in “The Big C.” Or, just to spite Dallas lovers, “The Bigger C.”

Mariachi bands. My outdoor dining experience should not have to include these guys.

Humidity. This might be irrelevant. Judging by the number of 100-degree days Texas records in a calendar year, the state may well burst into flames before West can carry out his plan.

Mr. West, your party seems to have already seceded from sanity. If you do in fact leave the country, just give me a few hours’ notice. I might want to swing by and pick up some barbecue sauce or have one final Tex-Mex meal.

And, like the Supreme Court, ignore you should our paths cross.

Greg Schwem is a business humorist, motivational corporate comedian, corporate emcee, nationally syndicated humor columnist for Tribune Content Agency and creator of the TV series, “A Comedian Crashes Your Pad, distributed by Fantastic Films LLC and available on Roku, Google Play and the Apple Store. He is currently performing his virtual presentation, “You Can’t Quarantine Laughter” for Fortune 500 companies worldwide.