The Domestic Equalizers are at it again, in the rollickin’ town of Salt Lick, Texas.


Lucia’s recent post about high school made me realize something: 1) I loved high school (stop throwing things at me!) and 2) My love of high school had a lot more to do with the…unique town I grew up in than it did with being popular.

The thing I remember most about my high school experience is that it was completely different than the “norm.” Whenever I would read a letter in one of the teen magazines about some young person’s heartbreaking struggle as a “band geek” or a “drama freak,” I was baffled. Everyone in my town plays an instrument; most, more than one. Being in the spring musical was THE thing to do. No one really cared about football or prom—not when there was soccer and the art museum.

I’m not saying it was perfect. OK, I am, but I realize it wasn’t perfect for everyone. More than that, I realize that a lot of things about my hometown are completely bizarre. For example, my high school had Associate Principals, not Vice Principals, because my hometown, and I quote, “has no vices.” Uh huh. Or the Volvo ballet, which is…just what it sounds like. Or the street that had a 17 and ½ mile per hour speed limit because residents couldn’t decide between 15mph and 20mph. But all those things combined to make my so-called formative years an absolute blast.

And I have to say, if you like towns with a personality all their own, you can’t do better than Salt Lick, Texas, home of Dixie Cash’s Domestic Equalizers. Check out MY HEART MAY BE BROKEN, BUT MY HAIR STILL LOOKS GREAT to see what I mean.

What about you? Does your hometown have a wacky, crazy, out of this world story that makes it the place you love—or hate? And, if so, can you top my town’s topless picnics? (Did I not mention the topless picnics?)
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6 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said:

Okay, Esi. What's this about topless picnics?

I went to school in suburban Houston. Nothing too interesting about growing up here. No topless picnics (not that I was invited to, anyway!).

10:13 AM  

Blogger Unknown said:

In my hometown, you had to beware of the grandmas. There were a lot of (ahem) founding gang families and so if you beat the wrong kid up, grandma would show up in her giant green station wagon and curse up a storm. Also, they had big hair which was rumored to conceal weaponry.

Now Esi I have to ask, where the heck are you from? :-)

2:54 PM  

Anonymous Anonymous said:

That's one way to celebrate equality! Thanks for sharing, Esi.

6:21 PM  

Blogger Terri Garey said:

I'm glad Mary asked where you were from, because I was sure wondering , Esi! :)

We have an annual 'pirate invasion' here in my hometown, called Gasparilla. It's like Mardi Gras, with parades, krewes, balls and parties, complete with an actual pirate ship leading a giant flotilla of pleasure boats into the bay, followed by a big, blow-out parade along Bayshore Blvd. (People kill for those beads, and do a little 'topless picnic-ing' of their own to get them!) Great fun every February, one of my favorite childhood memories, and a life-long tradition.

3:56 PM  

Blogger Louise said:

In my hometown, we used to dig a gigantic hole next to the football field every August. Then we'd fill it with water to make it good and muddy. And then all the boys and their monster, souped-up trucks would line up to see who could drive through the farthest. We called it the Mud Bog, and it was the single most successful fund raiser in the school's history.

Louise Ahern

4:01 PM  

Anonymous Anonymous said:

Well, in my city (but with an little town's charm) people are extremely patriotic. Even slight modernisations of some town centers like the well known Bergen's Fish Market spark the ire of its inhabitants since they wanted the way it was a hundred years ago.

The one thing I love here is that the city is surrounded by 7 mountains.

By the way, love the blog's design.

5:16 PM  

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