Thank you Molly for showing me that Texas isms and accents are a gift, a strength for humor, luv and gettin’ yer point across.

After moving from Houston to Wash­ington D.C. and a few weeks of chattin’-up the opera subscribers, I real­ized they weren’t gettin’ the jist of every­thing I was saying. As I started elim­i­nating some of the “y’alls” and shortnin’ the extended vowels, I could tell commu­ni­ca­tion was gettin’ better. So the story I told myself was “get rid of the Texas stuff and I’ll fit-in on the East Coast.”

Ten years later, toward the end of our time in D.C., Ann Richards was doing some fundraising amongst the Texans there. This was around the time of the “born with a silver spoon in his mouth” phrase that grabbed national atten­tion for her. I real­ized how helpful a little Texas sayin’ was in gettin’ people perked up and laughing. That’s when I started reading Molly — hoping to recall the good ‘ol phrases of my child­hood and learn a few more as well.

That dog won’t hunt.”
“A wall-eyed fit.”
“Fixin’ to do”
“Happier than a cran­berry merchant at Thanks­giving.”

Yeah, maybe my learnin’ in Texas wasn’t as top-notch as the East Coasters, and I’ve found the advan­tage to that for everyone. Now when someone uses a high-falutin’ word, I proudly admit “What does that mean? We didn’t have that word in Texas,” and everyone in the room gets to under­stand what’s being said.

Adios Molly — way, way too soon to be loosing another Texas tornado. Another pioneer spirit fear­lessly hell-raisin, speaking out and up to get our atten­tion. Them’s mighty big boots to fill at this time on our planet.

Read Maya Angelou’s tribute to Molly in The Wash­ington Post.

Read Molly’s final column about increasing the troup levels in Iraq.