Sunday, August 15, 2010

Much Ado about NOTHING

Deep in the Heart of Taxes

Things noted about the Lone Star State:

For a state in which people reportedly resent paying taxes more than in any other, they sure impose some high ones here. The tax on our rental car amounted to more than the rental fee for the car. When we remarked on this at the rental counter, the clerk said, "Welcome to Texas. Everything is bigger here." Then she gave us a free upgrade. My speculation is that anything that is mostly purchased by out-of-staters (like car rentals) is heavily taxed.

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I feel like I'm visiting Venus. It's been over 100 degrees Fahrenheit (38 degrees Celsius) every day. It gets somewhat tiresome running from one air-conditioned building to another to avoid the sauna-like atmosphere. Getting into a parked car is like getting into a kiln. Swimming pool water is like spit.

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Most houses are made of brown or beige brick here, except those of the wealthy or very poor. They blend in with the general brown-tone of the flat landscape. Unwatered lawns are brown. The many superhighways are made of beige concrete. The scrub brush is brownish. The sky, however, is a gorgeous shade of blue, with towering masses of white, fluffy clouds. This is "big sky" country.

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The clerks at Starbucks are extremely slow, but very polite ("You have a nice day"), by Northeastern standards. My wyfe remarked that they would not last five minutes in a Manhattan Starbucks.

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Everybody drinks iced-tea here, a drink I've never developed a taste for. Luckily, lemonade is also universally available.

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It's hard to find a radio station that doesn't play country, country rock or (ugh) Christian rock...or sermons.

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Churches advertise on billboards here. There are many large church campuses of vague denomination, like a "Bible Church", whatever that is.

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Towns have slightly amusing names like "Krum" and "Ponder".

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There are a lot more pawn shops here than in the Northeast. Every strip mall seems to have one. I'm not sure what this says, sociologically speaking, but I suspect that if I had to be poor, I'd rather be poor in New Jersey.

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We visited the immense and very futuristic-looking Cowboys Stadium (long story). I was amazed to see a security guard there armed with a machine gun. "Are we suddenly in Mexico?" I thought.

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You are not a man unless you drive a pick-up truck.

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