You're From Big D, I Can Guess...

You're from Big D
I can guess
By the way you drawl
and the way you dress
You're from Big D
My O yes
I said Big D
Little-a-double-l-a-s!

I had about a half hour to kill yesterday before rehearsal so I wandered down to Starbuck's for a coffee and to read a chapter of Donald Miller's Through Painted Deserts. Much to my dismay, the usually quiet coffee shop had been converted into a junior high cafeteria complete with giggly girls, awkward boys and groups of nerds and cool kids.

The weather was pleasant, so I found a seat outside. The only other adult customer was a woman in her 50's who had also come outside. She was enjoying the weather, her coffee and as far as I could tell a pack and a half of Cool's smoked one right after the other. She was also on her cell phone. It was interesting to say the least, to read about Miller's journey of "light, God and beauty on the open road" with her cell phone conversation focusing on shopping for more stuff, "old bitter" friends and griping about church as back ground music.

In the part of the book I was reading, Donald and his friend Paul are taking a road trip from Houston to the Grand Canyon in an old VW van. They are approaching Dallas from the south. I share his words with you here because if you are not familiar with Big D, you are about to become so and if you are familiar with it, you know Miller is right.

(Dallas) is an odd town...A big, Republican, evangelical city where you can't drink, girls wear black dresses for dates on Wednesday, and the goal is to join the local country club like your daddy and his daddy before him. When you build a city near no mountains and no ocean, you get materialism and traditional religion. People have too much time and lack inspiration.

There is but one Texas, and for Texans there is need for nothing more. A country within a country. Businessmen wear thousand-dollar suits with ten-thousand-dollar Stetsons. They drive king-cab trucks to their office jobs while their wives drive SUV's filled with kids in transit to and from school, band practice and football practice and cheerleading practice, and so on. And they have these little white stickers on the backs of their cars that read, "Michael...Plano Football" or "Michelle...Redmond Cheerleader" advertising their childs achievement like a political statement, teaching their kid that what really matters, what daddy really loves, is what you do. Give me something I can brag about to complete strangers stuck in traffic. Brilliant. I will have to send my mother a sticker that says, "Vagabond" or "Late Sleeper."

I watched the rich kids in Starbuck's buying $4 drinks and listened to the smoking lady rave more and more about less and less and I knew Miller was right and that I am in the center of the materialistic storm. How do I find light, God and beauty here? How can I share it with others here? How do I keep from being swept up in the storm?

And that spells Dallas
Just dig your toe in Dallas
And there's oil all over your address!
Back home in Big D
My O yes
I mean Big D
Little-a-double-l-a-s!