Big Tex Went Up In Flames

I have been to the Texas State Fair three times, and each time I was greeted by Big Tex: “Hooowwwdddeee!”

He was a grotesque 52-foot-tall talking cowboy statue.  He was badly proportioned and looked like he had been built by a junior high school shop class.  But Texans overlooked all this, and made Big Tex into an icon of the State Fair.  However, last year the poor guy was lost to an electrical fire that started in his jaw.

Of all my visits, one Texas State Fair incident stands out in my mind. It took place in the Livestock Judging Pavilion. 

I sat down in the bleachers to watch cattle judging.  I noticed a guy in his twenties sitting two rows in front of me, wearing jeans and a cowboy hat.  Something about him told me that he was for real.  He was not a city dweller who had just bought a hat at the State Fair Market Place.  He was a real cowboy, someone who worked with cattle for a living.

I followed his gaze.  He was focused on one heifer in the ring. It looked like his younger sister was showing this heifer.

The guy gestured: bring the cow’s chin up.  The girl brought the chin up.  Angle the cow’s head to the right.  The girl angled the head.  Move the cow’s rump a bit.  She moved the rump.

She followed everything her cowboy brother suggested.

The judge appeared.  She walked, impassive and stern, up and down the line of heifers.  When the judge made her final decision, she stood still.  She called out three of the heifers.

The judge did not call out little sister’s heifer.  Little sister stared straight at older brother, in shock, in disbelief.  I recognized this moment.  It is the universal moment that says: “I trusted in you.  I followed your instructions.  You let me down.”

I was transported from the bleachers in the largest state fair in America to a movie theater in my hometown.  I was six years old and my brother John, who was thirteen, had recruited me to help him win the movie theater's Halloween Costume Contest.  He got a bedsheet from Mom, and we were to be a horse.  He would be the front end and little brother, of course, would be the rear end.

Being the rear end of a horse required grace and concentration.  I could not see where I was going, but I had to walk up a set of steps, walk across a stage, and walk down a set of steps, synchronizing my speed to my brother’s speed while not stepping on his feet.

My brother and I got back to our movie theater seats.  I fully expected us to win.  We did not.  This was the moment when I thought: “I trusted in my older brother.  I followed his instructions.  He let me down.”

The Texas State Fair has three million visitors a year. 

If I were to go back to the Fair for the fourth time, I would not miss being greeted by Big Tex and his booming “Hooowwwdddeee!”  I would be in too big a hurry to get to the Judging Pavilion, to see if I can catch some real human drama amidst the livestock.

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R.I.P.  Big Tex  1952-2012 (video is 1 minute long):
YouTube Video - Big Tex Talks

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NOTE: Doug's best stories have been collected into a book: Puppy Out Of Breath.  Price = $11.  You can purchase a copy at  http://www.puppyoutofbreath.com