A reminder of where I am not

This morning, while sitting in the car in a bank parking lot in Texarkana, Texas, while my wife and her mother took care of some financial things, I got a reminder that I am not living in the Promised Land – Texas – but in that hog-bound state to the northeast.

The reminder came in this manner:

Two women walked from the bank, one in her late 50s, the other in her early 20s. Both wore cowboy boots, jeans and deer-hunter camouflage jackets. The older woman wore a white button blouse, the younger woman a pullover shirt, white with a blue swirley design across the top part. She wore a black cowboy hat, too.

I mentioned the reminder to my wife. She said, “You can see the same thing in Arkansas.” I said I had not seen two women similarly accoutered in Arkansas. She said, “Then you haven’t been in the right places.”

I said, “They walked Texas.” And they did, and no matter how many women you see dressed that way in Arkansas, none will walk Texas, unless she is.