Saturday, November 26, 2011

Thanksgiving weekend

"I celebrated Thanksgiving in an old-fashioned way. I invited everyone in my neighborhood to my house, we had an enormous feast, and then I killed them and took their land." — Jon Stewart 

PAUL AND I started celebrating Thanksgiving Wednesday afternoon. We picked up our friend, Myron, and took him to On With Life (OWL) to explore volunteer opportunities.

On With Life is a brain injury rehabilitation facility situated in my hometown of Ankeny, Iowa, with a second location in Glenwood, Iowa. My friend Julie Fidler Dixon is the Executive Director, and another friend, Judy McCoy Davis works for the OWL Foundation.

When we were there Wednesday, Julie said, "You know the process of recovery that Gabrielle Gifford is undergoing? That's what we do every day." They have five programs: rehabilitation, supportive housing, longterm care, outpatient and supported community living, and amazingly enough, OWL has more accredited brain injury rehabilitation specialists than any other facility in the world that's not part of a hospital.

Myron was catastrophically injured in 1979 at the age of 23 when he ran headlong at full speed into the side of a train on his motorcycle at a railroad crossing that was unlit and unmarked and had no crossing-arms or warning signals. His injuries were so extensive and severe that the doctors gave his family no hope. Amazingly, he lived and regained consciousness after being in a coma for a month and a half.

By the time I met Myron about 25 years ago, he was recovered enough to live in a group home and spend week days in the day activity program at Goodwill Industries where I was an assistant activity director for a few months. Every single person in the program at that time was schizophrenic except Myron. I could tell he had more going on in his head than met the eye.

It's been so long ago that I don't remember exactly how it came about, but somehow Myron and I made friends and have stayed friends ever since. He'll turn 56 in a few weeks. He lives in his own condo, unassisted except for help from his sister and his brother who manage his money. He can't drive, but he has a bike he rides around town to run errands.

When Myron, Paul and I were there Wednesday, Julie introduced me to some staff members and mentioned our decades-old friendship, crediting me with being a special person for staying in touch with him all these years. Actually, it's Myron who's special. He's as loyal a person as you'll ever meet, and both Paul and I get as much good from knowing him as vice versa.

After Myron's injury, his mother Ruth joined with nine other families and began what is now On With Life. It's not like these were rich people, so they could just start a brain injury rehabilitation center, but it was their awareness of the need and their advocacy that was the impetus for what has become a world-renowned care center.

When we were at On With Life, Myron got to see the big plaque in the lobby with his mom's name on it. Unfortunately, Ruth has passed away by now. She was a kind, unassuming woman who, along with the other founding families, made a a huge difference for hundreds of patients and families. She was also very warm and inclusive to me and made me feel like part of the Myron's family. He's blessed to have an exceptionally loving one, and they continue to do a great job looking after him.

Afterwards, we took Myron to Olive Garden to eat. We've shared many a meal over the last almost quarter of a century.

Late Thursday afternoon we went to Larry and Sharon Stein'sPaul's 'Jewish parents', for Thanksgiving dinner. We ate way too much and played Trivial pursuit "girls against boys" as per Larry's rules. The guys always win. Paul was sort of trying to give me little hints, but all it was doing was making me second guess what I was thinking which had been right to begin with. We've been going there for six or eight years. It's "Tradition, Tradition!"

Larry and Sharon and us in a food haze.

Last night we went to Virginia's for more overindulgence. We snacked on mermaid food (remember the 1990 movie Mermaids with Cher and Winona Ryder?), pumpkin pie, and peppermint ice cream with hot fudge while we finished the jig saw puzzle we started Sunday and played Racko and Yahtzee. Virginia always beats us at both! We're lucky to have been surrounded all weekend by people who love us.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Happy Thanksgiving 2011

"I couldn't get over the fact that there was no difference between Sylvia's restaurant and any other restaurant in New York City. I mean, it was exactly the same, even though it's run by blacks, primarily black patronship." — Bill O'Reilly, September 19, 2007, while discussing his recent dinner at a famous restaurant in Harlem

A RECENT SURVEY conducted by Fairleigh Dickinson University found that those who watch Fox News are less informed than people who don't watch any news at all. That's kinda scary considering that in May 2.8 million people watched the O'Reilly Factor on Fox.

The poll that asked New Jersey residents about the recent uprisings in Egypt and the Middle East controlled for demographics such as educational level and party affiliation. It found that Fox News viewers were 18 points less likely to know that Egyptians have overthrown their government and six points less likely to know that Syrians haven't.

Lest you think that this is some fringe college, a word about it. With 12,000 students, it's the largest private university in New Jersey. And they know a thing or two about international events. According to Wikipedia, Fairleigh Dickinson University is formally recognized by the United Nations Department of Public Information as an NGO. In 2009 it became the first college to receive special consultative status with the United Nations Economic and Social Council (ECOSOC) and since 2002 has hosted more than 70 United Nations ambassadors and officials.

This isn't the first time that Fox News viewers have been found to be less informed than the rest of us. A study by the University of Maryland last year found those watching Fox News are more likely to believe false information about politics and politicians.

I'm advocating that from here on out, Fox News be designated as Fox 'News' with news in air quotes, accompanied by a wink and a nod.

And on that note, here's my little Thanksgiving present to you. It's a video from Will Farrell's Funny or Die internet channel. Have a great day.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

The devil and Penn State

"Be more concerned with your character than your reputation, because your character is what you really are, while your reputation is merely what others think you are." ― John Wooden

I'M A HUGE fan of the New York Times. The breadth and depth of coverage is always surprising and rewarding. Personally, I consider it to be the real USA Today, as in the official newspaper of the US of A.

BTW, you can get an online subscription for not very much money. We get the Sunday paper delivered to us which automatically includes an online subscription which means I get to read the NYT everyday.

Recently there have been two thoughtful pieces on the Penn State situation that I want to share with you, one written by op-ed columnist Ross Douthat published November 12 and the other written by Daniel Mendelsohn, published a week later.

The Devil and Joe Paterno

By Ross Douthat

November 12, 2011

WHEN I think about the sins of Joe Paterno, and the ignominious ending of his long and famous career, I think about Darío Castrillón Hoyos.

Castrillón is a Colombian, born in Medellín, who became a Catholic priest and then a bishop during the agony of his country’s drug-fueled civil wars. In Colombia, he was a remarkable figure: a “rustic man with the profile of an eagle,” as Gabriel García Márquez described him, who left his episcopal residence at night to feed slum children, mediated between guerrillas and death squads and reputedly made his way to Pablo Escobar’s house disguised as a milkman to demand that the drug kingpin confess his sins.

But that isn’t how the world thinks of him today. In the 1990s, Castrillón was elevated to the College of Cardinals and placed in charge of the Vatican’s Congregation for the Clergy, where he came to embody the culture of denial that characterized Rome’s initial response to the sex abuse crisis. Castrillón dismissed the scandal as just “an American problem,” he defended the church’s approach to priestly pedophilia long after it had been revealed as pitifully inadequate, and in 2001 he even praised a French bishop for refusing to denounce an abusive priest to the civil authorities.

How did the man who displayed so much moral courage in Colombia become the cardinal who was so morally culpable in Rome? In the same way, perhaps, that college football’s most admirable coach — a mentor to generations of young men, a pillar of his Pennsylvania community — could end up effectively washing his hands of the rape of a young boy.

It was precisely because Castrillón had served his church heroically, I suspect, that he was so easily blinded to the reality of priestly sex abuse. It was precisely because Joe Paterno had done so much good for so long that he could do the unthinkable, and let an alleged child rapist continue to walk free in Penn State’s Happy Valley.

Click here to read the entire article.

Secret Dread at Penn State

By Daniel Mendelsohn

November 19, 2011

WHAT if it had been a 10-year-old girl in the Penn State locker room that Friday night in 2002?

The likely answer to that question reveals an ugly truth, one that goes stubbornly undiscussed. Whichever version of Mike McQueary’s story you choose to believe — his grand jury testimony, in which a “distraught” Mr. McQueary, then a graduate assistant to the football team, “left immediately” after witnessing the former assistant coach Jerry Sandusky sodomize a young boy, or the e-mail recently leaked to the press, in which he wrote, “I did stop it, not physically ... but made sure it was stopped when I left that locker room” — the mind recoils at the grotesque failure to intervene more forcefully. How could a grown man have left the scene without taking the child with him? Mr. McQueary wants us to imagine that his brain was racing during those “30 to 45 seconds,” that he “had to make tough impacting quick decisions.” But it seems clear he wasn’t thinking at all — and it’s hard not to wonder why.

I think it was the gender of the victim.

Click here to read the entire article.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Top ten Texas towns

"If I owned Texas and Hell, I would rent out Texas and live in Hell." —  Philip Henry Sheridan, Union Civil War General

I'M JUST obsessive/compulsive enough to get fixated with making an epic list of some thing or things. Especially when my brain is overheated. 

I refer you to the time I was sick abed (as my grandmother would say) and running a very high fever. I had the TV playing in the background off and on, and during one period of semi-consciousness, I heard some talk show person say that the average English-speaker has a vocabulary of 12,000 to 15,000 words. In my fevered state, I became obsessed with worrying that I might have a less than sufficient vocabulary, and I struggled out of bed to find pencil and paper to try to make a count and assess my linguistic competence.

When Paul came home, he found me feverishly — literally — writing down all the words I knew that started with E. I'm not exactly (oh good E word) sure why I chose the letter E, but I believed I could extrapolate (ah, another good E word) how many total words I knew by calculating the percentage of E words I know compared to how many E words there are in the dictionary and then applying that percentage to the number of words in the entire (there's another one) dictionary in order to calculate the total number of words in my vocabulary. 

The below list, however, can not be blamed on a fever. I'm blaming it on a reader in Mustang, Texas. Mustang is such a colorful and quintessentially-western-sounding name for a town that I decided to look it up, and when I did, I discovered that there are not one, but two of them in Texas. I wondered, how could that be? Don't people get mixed up as to which is which? Little did I know how many multiples Texas had in store for me. 

That perplexity caused me to search for and find a list of all the names of towns and cities in Texas. Of course, you can't look at a Texas list and not be amazed, amused, puzzled, and now and then just a little bit frightened, not unlike the state itself. So I started writing down the names that struck me, and ten days later, here I am — with a very long list. 

I was captivated by how colorful so many of the names are, but I also enjoy how matter-of-fact and utilitarian they are — something that fits snuggly with my own proclivities. 

Paul is always laughing at me for what I call things. He calls it Kellyese. I tend to shorten things to acronyms or come up with my own names which are functionally descriptive. I don't even realize I'm doing it, but after awhile, that's what whatever it is starts being called at our house. 

We sleep under a BFT, short for big fluffy thing (a down comforter). 
For the last forty years, I've called dry cat food, dry crunches. I forget that's not the actual name. What most people would call a den or family room, at our house it's the AP room (short for all-purpose) because it really is neither a den or a family room, but it definitely is all-purpose: Paul's dressing room, the television room, where all the ironing equipment is stored and used, and the fur babies have their water fountain and bowl of dry crunchies in there.

When Paul and I see someone with unrealistic body parts or hair color, one of us will say to the other NFIN, as in Not Found In Nature. AH factor stands for asshole factor. Sometimes there's an additional charge on a client's bill based on the AH factor. 

I knew Barbara Mack when I taught at Iowa State; she referred to washing her hands as washing her pats. I've washed my pats ever since. 
When Paul and I went shopping for bed linens, I asked where the "deep dish" sheets were. Paul started laughing, and I couldn't figure out what was so funny. I didn't know that's what I said, but hey, the clerk took us to the right area. 

You get the drift.

Below is my really long list of Texas towns. Many of the names are hilarious, to me anyway, and I've attached little jokey asides to them. All of them are colorful, many are picturesque, some inscrutable and some nonsensical, and lots are so evocative and poetic that I couldn't pass them up. There are also a Texas ton of them that are just someone's first name, which for some reason makes me laugh. At the very bottom, I've chosen my top ten favorites. I'd love to know what yours are.


Abner — I love towns that are just somebody's first name.

Adams Garden — Does Eve get one too?
Alabama — Where'r ya' from? "Alabama, Texas." Where? Alabama or Texas? 
Alamo — It doesn't get any more Texas than this.
Alice — Does she still live here? 
Alto Colorado — This one must really confuse people. 
Alvin — The chipmunk?
Amigo — Where everyone is friends.
Angus — Moo, moo, moo, how they scare me.
Anna — They sure do name a lot of places after women.
Arizona — Again, Arizona or Texas? Make up your mind.
Ash Switch — Hard to say without saying Ass Switch.


Back — For sure I would have to put up a sign on the edge of town saying, I'm Back.
Bacon — Research says just two strips a day can increase cancer risk by 40%. 
Bangs — I've fried mine with a flat iron more than a few times.
Bath — Hey, it's important to know where you can get one.
Bean Hill — This town ain't worth a hill of beans. 
Beans Place
Bear Creek — Four of them.
Beaukiss — Awwwww.
Bee Cave
Beeville — Sounds straight out of 1954.
Bell Bottom — Really? Did this spring up in the 60s?
Bell Place Windmill
Ben Arnold
Ben Bolt
Ben Franklin — I really don't think he founded this town.
Ben Flicken
Ben Hur — I don't think this guy did either.
Ben Wheeler — Ben is a very, very popular guy in Texas.
Berry Hill 
Beulah — There are four in Texas. That Beulah really must have gotten around.
Best — Now come on, isn't this kind of bragging.
Big Square — Where all the men have tape on their glasses.
Big Thicket Loblolly
Bigfoot — Yet anthropologists can't find him even though he's right on the map.
Black Ankle
Black Jack — The whiskey or the game or both?
Blackberry — I'm thinking the fruit, not the device.
Bland — There are two of these! Way to make people never want to visit here. 
Blanket — Is this where Michael Jackson's youngest child was conceived?
Blue — A very sad place to live . . . or one with high percentage of Democrats.
Bluetown — Yup, where everyone is depressed.
Bobville — Hilarious.
Bonanza — Too bad, Hoss, Little Joe, Adam and Ben are all gone.
Bootleg — One guess as to what the economic base of this town is.
Bowser — This town is a dog.
Bronco — Yee haw.
Buck Hollow 
Buffalo — Four of these.
Buffalo Gap — Two of these.
Buffalo Springs — And three of these.
Bug Tussle — My absolute favorite of all of them.


Cactus — I'm surprised there aren't more than just two of these.

Calf Creek
Call Junction 
Camilla — I'm assuming it's not in honor of the one who reigns across the pond.
Canary — In the trees, I'm hoping, not in the mine shaft. 
Canyon — Two.
Capps Switch
Carls Corner
Cash — They do not take credit cards here.
Casa Blanca 
Cat Spring — With four in our house, I only feel like I live there.
Cereal — You're kidding me.
Chalk Hill
Cherry Mountain — Delish!
China Grove — Three of them.
Chocolate Springs — If only.
Chuckville — So funny.
Click — Some people just don't.
Climax — Two of them . . . and I'm biting my tongue here.
Clutter Point — AKA my house.
Coffee City — The beverage section.
Coke — Not Pepsi
Cologne — A nice-smelling place.
Comfort — I know where to head when I'm in need of it.
Cone — More geometry. In there with Big Square and Circle.
Copeville — Where everyone is just hanging on.
Copper Canyon 
Cool — The opposite of Big Square. Founded around the time Bell Bottom was?
Corner Windmill — There are seven of these! I am not making this up.
Cotton Gin
Cotton Patch
Coy City — Nobody is ever direct here.
Coyote Corner
Crabapple — That's what I am sometimes.
Crisp — How you would like Bacon.
Cross Cut
Crow — Two.
Crume Gin — Well, you get what you pay for.
Cut and Shoot — You risk your life here.
Cyclone — I bet they've seen their share.


Dads Corner — He had to have a time-out.

Dead Wood — Quintessentially western.
Deal — I'm making one with myself to never do another list!!
Del Rio 
Democrat Crossing — We definitely need protection, that's for sure.
Devils Shores
Dew — Mountain or nature's own?
Dial — Two.
Dickens — It's a dickens of a town.
Dies — I'm avoiding this one for as long as I can.
Dime Box
Dimple — It's just such a cute place to live.
Dingerville — Really?
Direct — The opposite of Coy.
Divot — Just a little hole in the ground.
Doc Brown
Domino — Oh, oh, Domino.
Donna — Oh Donna, Oh Donna.
Dripping Springs
Dry Valley
Dull — Way to make a place sound inviting.
Duplex — It's not a very big town.
Duster — Come to my house. I hate dusting.


Eagle Pass

Early — I wonder if this is where Richard Early hales from.
Ebenezer — Texas was generous enough to name two towns after him.
Echo — Two of them; how fitting.
Edcouch — And no one else can sit on it.
Elbow — So far we've had a foot, an ankle and now Elbow.
Electric City — Things are very exciting here.
Elmo — Besides being a TV star, he has his own town.
Eminence — They have a pretty lofty opinion of themselves here.
Emmett — Paul's Grandpa's name on his dad's side
Eunice — Two.
Eureka — Also, two. The first time they found it, they must have been wrong.


Fada — Hello Fada, hello mudah.

Fairy — Now If we all clap our hands, we can save her.
Fate — Led me here.
Fays Corner
Ferris — Bueller?
Field City — Which is it, a field or a city?
Fife — Barney?
First Crossing — How can be two of these? There can only be one first. 
Flat — Not exactly making your town sound appealing.
Flomot — What is it?
Flour Bluff — Every thing in Texas is big, including their ingredients.
Flower Mound
Flugruth — I have no idea who or what a Flugruth is, but I like it.
Fort Spunky — Hilarious.
Frame — But I'm innocent.
Fred — Totally cracks me up.
Friday — Much better off than those poor people in Munday. 
Friendship — Nine of them. Texas is just a gosh darn friendly place.
Frog — Love it.
Frog Hop — Love it even more.
Frognot — They're agin 'em.


George West

Geronimo — A beautiful name if there ever was one.
Ginger — Remember she did what Fred did except backwards and in high heels.
Gladys — Only two. Not quite as in demand as Beulah.
Glaze City — As out of it as in Fogtown?
Golly — Golly.
Goober Hill — Words fail.
Good Hope — As opposed to bad? 
Goodnight — Two of them. Too bad there isn't a Nurse nearby.
Gore Landing — Ewwwww.
Grace — We all need some of this.
Gray Mule
Gribble — I just like the sound of it.
Groom — How come there's no bride?
Grub Hill — This ought to draw a lot . . . of flies.
Gum Springs — There are three. Maybe all different flavors?
Gun Barrel City — So Texas, unfortunately. Not a fan.
Gunsight — I repeat.
Gustine — Feminizing some male names doesn't always work.


Hackberry — Five.

Hanger — That's what I love about Texas town names, they're so utilitarian.  
Happy — The name of one of our favorite movies set in Happy, Texas. 
Harmony — Ten of these, but that's fine because we need all we can get.
Hatchetville — I'd avoid this one if I were you.
Heckville — Well, just go to heck then (and start a town while you're at it).
Helbig — I think they just misspelled hell.
Hereford —Again, moo, moo, moo how they scare me.
High — They have laws against this, ya' know.
Hitchcock — It's a scary place to live.
Hobby — That's nice, but most of us have to work for a living.
Hogeye — Exactly how Coach Hayden Fry, a Texan, pronounced Hawkeye. 
Hogpen – Really? There wasn't anything better around to name the town after?
Holly Springs — Four.
Homer — Two of them plus a Homer Junction.
Honey Creek  — Sounds sweet.
Hoop and Holler — Seriously?
Hoot — This town's name is a hoot.
Hoot and Holler Crossing — I'm speechless.
Horsehead Crossing
Humble — There are three of these, so I guess not so humble after all.
Hye — Bye.


Iago — How Shakespearean.

Idalou — A Dr. Seuss-sounding name.
Ike — Two. I guess they really liked Ike in Texas. 
Impact — Is there a big meteor crater here or something?
Ireland — Sorry, but not much in common between the here and across the pond.



Jericho — Two.
Jinks — Bad luck here.
Joe — It's just my Joe.
Joiner — Which I am not.
Joinerville — Where all the Joiners go to join.
Jolly — Popular at Christmas.
Jollyville — See above.
Jonah — I'm assuming sans whale.
Joshua — He settled here after he fit the battle, but in which Jerico?
Jumbo — You always hear that everything in Texas is big.
Junction Windmill
Justiceburg — It starts out so inspirational, then they stick burg on the end.



Kay Bee Heights
Keith — Paul's dad.
Kelly — Gotta include this one. They even spelled it right.
Kermit — After the frog, I assume.
Klump — Sure, I want to live in a town called Klump.


La Tuna — Grilled, please. And 35 others that are La something.

Lakenon — No lake here, as opposed to the 46 others that are Lake-something
Laredo — Western romance.
Latch — Funny. 
Latexo — Kinky.
Lavender — One of my favorite aromas along with lilies and lilies of the valley.
Lawn — No houses, but you should see the lawn.
Lazbuddie — I'm afraid to ask.
Lemonville — Don't buy a car here.
Little Hope — Wow. Way to discourage people.
Locust Grove — Sure, let's move to a place that's crawling.
Log Cabin
Lois — Two.
Lolaville — Whatever Lola want, Lola gets, including her own town.
Lost Creek Place — Western mythology aplenty.
Louis Granger Place
Louise — There are two Thelmas.
Love — A pretty good place to propose.
Lovelady — Is this just a refined name for a woman of ill repute?
Lucky Ridge — You're in luck!
Luke Wilson — He's an okay actor, but come on, he's not that big a deal.
Lull — Two. This must be where you go if you want to take a break.
Lumpkins — Sounds like a British term of endearment to me.


Mabank — And her gang.

Mobile — I was born in the one in Alabama.
Magic City — Oooooo.
Magnolia — Two of them.
Mangum — Is it chaw?
Markout — It didn't work, it's still there.
Martha — I wonder if Martha and the two Marvins ever get together. Kinky.
Marvin — Two. 
Matador — Ole!
Matilda — Matilda, Maud, Mildred and Monica might be jealous.
Maverick — Western mystique for sure.
Maypearl — I bet this predates Minnie.
Medicine Mound 
Mercedes — Yes please.
Mercury — For those who can't afford the Benz.
Merit — You gotta deserve to live here.
Midway — There are 22 of these! Where ya' from? Midway. Midway to what? 
Mobeetie — I have no idea whatsoever.
Moonshine Hill — Love it. The name, not the stuff.
Mossy Grove
Mulberry Springs
Muleshoe — Classic Texas.
Munday —  Where it's Munday every darn day. Like the movie Groundhog Day.
Mustang — Three of these. This list is all their fault! 


Naaman — No thanks.
Nada — If you're from here, you literally come from nothing.
Narcisso — Where everyone is a narcissist.
Necessity — Do I have to be from here?
Needmore — They had one, but they needed more so they made an additional three.
Nemo — Yay, they found him!
New Corn Hill — As opposed to the old one.
New Harp — That must have been one heck of a harp to name the whole town after it.
New Home — So this is where I go to get one. I've been wondering.
New Hope — There are 13 of these, and I truly 'hope' they all have it. 
New Mobeetie — As if the first one weren't enough.
Newt — Maybe it's named after the amphibian, a more honorable choice than the Georgian. 
Niblock — Not to be confused with the town below.
Nimrod — OMG there are two of these! I know a number of people who belong there.
Noodle — I'm speechless.
Nobility — Gotta' say it: Yes, I come from Nobility.
Noble — A town full of wonderful people doing good in the world.
Noonday — Two. It closes after lunch.
Nopal — Two friendless places to live. Yes, there are two.
Normans Crossing — Can the rest of us cross, or is it only for him?
North Pitchfork Corner Windmill — Wow.
Notrees — Well, just plant some for goodness sake.
Novice —Two of them. Maybe they're blessed with beginners' luck.
Nuway — Of spelling.


Oatmeal — Everybody gets a hearty breakfast here.

Odds — The odds of living here are small.
Ogg — Another Dr. Seuss-like name.
Oil City — Guess what the economic base is here.
Oilla — This is what they say when they strike it — sort of Frenchified.
Oklahoma — How confusing. Where are we anyway?  
Old Beekley Place
Old Burk Place
Old Christian Place — They converted.
Old Davy
Old Diana — This must have done wonders for her self-esteem. Not.
Old Dime Box — As opposed to the new one of course.
Old Edith Lochausen Place
Old Freitag Place
Old Glory — A patriotic town, if I ever heard one.
Old House Place
Old Houston Place
Old Ocean — Are we talking Precambrian here?
Old Oscar Place
Old Patterson Place
Old Place Windmill
Old place Windmills — Not a typo. Yet, there are two so similarly spelled.
Old Reed Place
Onion Creek — Air freshener required.
Omen — Eeeee. sounds scary.
Ore City
Ort — The definition of ort is a small scrap of food. Not the best image for a place.
Overcup Landing — Almost as good as Bug Tussle.
Owl Creek — I would love to live somewhere where I got to see lots of owls.
Owlett Green — Where the babies are raised.


Paint Creek

Paint Crossing
Paint Rock
Palafox — No idea, but I like how it sounds.
Pancake — Unfortunately, not in the same county as Bacon. 
Panhandle — Two of them.
Panther Junction — I'd love to actually see one.
Papalote Colorado — The most confusing name of all. And they slap Texas on the end.
Paradise — So that's where it is.
Paris — I doubt the one in France and this one have much in common.
Parsley Crossing
Paul Junction — I hope it's near Kelly.
Peach Creek
Pear Ridge
Pecan Gap
Pecos — So evocative of the wild west.
Peggy — My only disappointment is that the name isn't Peggy Sue.
Pelican Bay
Pert — Where everyone is just so cute.
Pettytown — A bunch of gossips.
Pin Hook — Ouch.
Plum Creek — Along with Peach Creek and Pear Ridge, we've got a lovely fruit salad.
Point Blank — Sounds ominous.
Ponder — A good place to sit and think.
Poorboy Landing
Pride — Good for them!
Prosper — We need to move here.
Pumpville — Yup, it's an oil state.
Punkin Center — There are four of these. Grandpa used to call me punkin, so I'm smitten. 



Queen City — No comment.
Quihi — How do you pronounce this?
Quitman — He didn't, so now there's a town there.


Raccoon Bend — I like all the animal ones.

Radio Junction
Radium — No thanks.
Ragtown — Two of them actually.
Rainbow — Somewhere over the.
Raisin — This one is totally cracking me up.
Rambo — Really?
Ransom Canyon — I guess we know what happened here.
Rattlesnake Bend — Okay, not all the animal ones.
Razor — Really? Kept in the same drawer as Scissors?
Red Mud — And 33 others that start with the word Red.
Retreat — Two.
Rice — Right along with New Corn Hill, Cereal and Rye.
Ridout — Get out, now!
Rio Bravo — A beautiful western name.
Rising Star — If I live here, will I be one?
Rockledge — And 29 other that begin with Rock.
Rooneys Place
Royalty — Yes, yes I am.
Rubboard Crossing
Rugby — I'm more of a soccer fan myself.
Runaway Bay
Rye — Two of them. Cereal . . . or whiskey.


Salem – There are seven of them.

Salt Gap
Saltlick Mill
Salty — Hey, watch your language!
Santa Anna — So Southwestern.
Sargent — Hey, they even spelled it right. Two of them, so I guess I can take my choice.
Scissors — By now, why should anything surprise me.
Scurry — Love it!!
Scrapping Valley — A contentious bunch.
Seclusion — What I need.
Seven Heart Crossing
Shady Grove — You better include the zip code because there are 11 of these.
Shadowland — Who knows what lurks in the hearts of men?
Shawnee — Two of them. I love all the Native American names.
Sherlock — It's a mystery. 
Shiloh — Five of them.
Shoemaker Place
Shortall — Make up your mind.
Shotgun Crossing — Texas is a very violent place.
Sid Place — Sounds like a bar, not a town.
Silver City — Western romance in all four of them.
Sixteen Corner Windmill
Skeeterville — Okay, you're warned.
Slabtown — Gotta-lotta morgues here, maybe.
Small — A place for Rabbit's friend, Small, from Winnie The Pooh.
Snipe — Right in there with Pettytown.
Soda Springs
South Side Place — And 24 others that begin with South.
Sour Lake — Really? Yeah sure, let's live here.
Spade — Two.
Spicewood — Mmmmmmm.
Star — Everyone who lives here gets to be one.
Stingaree — Probably close to Beeville.
Stith — Looks like a typographical error.
Strain — It takes a lot of effort to live here.
Stringtown — Amazingly enough, there are four of these.
Stubblefield — Surely the chamber of commerce could have done better.
Stumptown — Ditto.
Sublime — See, now this is how it's done.
Sundown — Named after the woman in the Gordon Lightfoot song, or the vice versa?
Sunrise —  Where it's always a new day.
Swiss Alp — A bit of wishful thinking going on.


Tacubaya — I just like the way it sounds.

Tahoka — Ditto.
Tam Anne
Tarzan — I think it's a complete oversight that there isn't a Jane in Texas.
Tatsie — Sounds naughty.
Teaselville — Totally sounds like the name of town in a Dr. Seuss book.
Telegraph — Goes with the one right below. 
Telephone — They're keeping in touch with one another.
Thelma — Two, but neither are in the same county as Louise.
Thorn Hill — Sure, everyone wants to live in a place described like this.
Three States — Solid, liquid and gas.
Thrifty — One half of my personality could live here. 
Tin Top — There are two, I swear.
Tom Bean
Tool — Words fail.
Topsey — What, no Turvey
Tow — I guess someone needed one.
Trophy Club — Braggers.
Troup — See True.
True — Scout's honor.
Tulip — My favorite flower.
Turkey — This town's a turkey, however, it's very popular this time of year.
Tuxedo — It's a dressy kind of a place.
Twitty — It’s just funny.


Uhland — The namers must have found this town underwhelming.

Uncertain — I'm not sure if I like this name or not.
Unity — Since there are two of these, I guess not so unified after all.
Utopia — At last I've found it.


Valentine — A place full of roses and heart-shaped boxes of candy.

Verbena — The fragrance of a lotion I love.
Verde, Canada — How do you explain this to anyone?
Verdi — Sing a lot of operas here, do they?
Victor — Two of them.
Victoria — Fittingly, also two of them, and all four full of cross-dressers.
Viola — Paul had an Aunt Viola.
Violet — Sounds like a sweet place to live.


Wake — With all the knife and gun towns, no wonder Texas needs two of these.

Waldrip — Kinda creepy, really.
Walker Place
Warlock — Popular on Halloween.
Waxahachie — Have to include this one. It's so fun to say.
Wealthy — Forget Prosper, I'm moving here.
Weedhaven — Oh sure, everyone's going to want to live in a place called this.
Welcome Valley — Texas is just so gosh darn friendly.
Weeks Settlement — As in your wages for the week?
Weeping Mary — Heartrending.
West — There are 43 more towns that start with West.
Wheelock — Must have been a breakdown here.
Whiskey Ford
Whispering Pines
White Shed — I guess it doesn't take much to start a town.
Whitharral — I just like the sound of it.
Winchester — Two of them which also contributed to needing two Wakes.
Wink — Too bad there's no Nod.
Wizard Wells — Straight out of Harry Potter.
Wolf Creek — Love the animals.


There are no X towns in Texas. Will someone please correct this oversight?!! With so many duplicates, couldn't you just change one to Xenon?


Yowell — That's what I felt like doing when I discovered there were no X towns.


Zipp — It.
Zipperlandville — They left off burg and town: Zipperlandvilleburgtown. 
Zunkerville — And so ends the list.

My Top Ten Favorites: 

#10 — Telephone

#9 — Dime Box
#8 — Frog Hop
#7 — Zipper
#6 — Dull
#5 — Hogpen
#4 — Uncertain
#3 — Nimrod
#2 — Scissors
#1 — Bug Tussle