Only in Texas

Every year, our beloved quasi-corporate Baylor College of Medicine, has celebrates Go Texan Day with cowboy hats, tight jeans, and the most darlin' secretaries this side of the Brazos. In honor of one of our beloved New Orleans evacu....er....expat, Nick, having to return to the city he fled, we decided to have a modified version of Go Texan.

Go Gay Texan. Nick is a Texan à la homosexual.

STEP ONE, the aptly named Brokeback Mountain. Normally, the indie film heavy River Oaks Theater is no stranger to a steady, very ecclectic crowd. However, Friday was the opening day of "the Gay cowboy movie." Not only did we have to purchase tickets the day prior, much to the chagrin of the Negro in me, Kevin, Amy, Nick, and myself had to arrive half and hour early....to wait in line....a line full of cowboy hats, tight jeans, and the most darlin' secretaries this side of Brazos. After manuevering four, third row seats, we settled into what turned out to be an amazing and powerful film. The director, Ang Lee, quite the badass Chinese American, also directed the setting-saturated film Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon. After two hours of gorgeous mountains, love stricken cowboys, and an audience full of the latter, I can safely say that is was an experience that I will not forget soon.

STEP TWO, food that is and of itself a risk factor for coronary artery disease. Goode Company Barbecue serves as the closest proxy to my family's savory, tangy Texan ambrosia, but only in physical distance. Its good, great even, but those whose taste buds have been hypnotized by Papa Webster will except no substitute. Any place that has a buffalo head on the wall is alright in my book.

STEP THREE, margaritas. Ribka and 'the Mexicans,' better known as Desirée, Lydia, and Christian, joined is for some margaritas at Café Adobe. Yuuuuuum. But alas the pièce de resistance awaits.

STEP FOUR, Gay Kicker Dancing. Last week as we formulated our plans for the evening, our Ethiopian ambassador, Ribka stumbled upon quite the find in the HoustonPress. Tucked away behind the ads for Thai Lady Massage, 'imaginative and explorative' personals ads, and other neoconservative-nightmares, sat an add for Brazos River Bottom. Houston's gay kicker dancing establishment. Unfortunately the supposed must-see (and be seen) night was Saturday, so we only caught a small yet loyal Friday crowd. In true Brokeback Mountain fashion, these were not your Halloween party gay cowboys. If you caught them on the street, you'd have little doubt that they were anything but the truest blue of Republican. Well, at the very least they'd be a more multichromatic variety of Republican. Anyway, using boot scootin' cornmeal and the corner we gave it a go. Given the convivial atmosphere, I'm sure no one minded the jovial heteros.

STEP FIVE. Go home. You've had a great evening that only a progressive Texas can offer.