I’ve been jazzed about my new pearl snap shirt, which I had always wanted since my first visit to Crider’s — spelled with a rope — in Hunt, Texas, and which I purchased last week at the Cowboy Store in Kerrville because I had heard Jason Aldean on RevFM Radio say that’s where to go. I had wanted to wear it home from Kerrville to Boston, considering that I would come in contact with Texans only briefly on the departure end in San Antonio International Airport and perhaps also a couple of Southwest Airlines employees along the way — who are paid to smile at all customers regardless of the shirts they wear in vain — their being the only ones to know that I was but a cowboy Wannabe.
Not the real McCoy.
It’s a Wrangler brand shirt with 1/4-inch wide royal blue vertical stripes on a white cotton with an embroidered paisley pattern. Button down pockets. Fancy taper behind the neck. $23.82 with tax. It is the only thing “Wrangler” I own, for the jeans made by this company should always be worn flush with the back of a large mammal with two horns and a final destiny as either a quarter pounder with cheese or marinated steak tips. If I were to wear Wrangler jeans inside Texas, once again, I would publicly brand myself a Wannabe. But in New York City, perhaps this will come across as trendy.
So I wore the dadgum shirt only around the house at my in-laws during vacation, and because of the heat on travel day — and because my wife values her reputation as a Texan, albeit one who is married to a New Yorker — I opted for a short-sleeve shirt that I had brought with me for the flight home.
Now, where will I wear this shirt in NYC?
None other than the famous Denim & Diamonds dance hall for NewYorkersWhoWishedTheyHadCountryBloodAndBuyPearlSnapShirtsToWearAwayFromTexas. So I Googled the place, where Karen and I went a time or two back while we were dating — it used to be on like 48th and Lexington, not exactly a sprawling area where steer amble up to the side of the road near the cattle guard underneath the gate that shows the ranch name, and yet from my Google search I fear it’s moved to Staten Island, where buffalo indeed may roam…I don’t know…I have never been to that “borough” and don’t intend to go unless I want to see the wildlife — and which had a circular dance floor that had two “lanes.” The inside lane was for slower dancers and outside for twirlers who employed greater celerity. Little did we realize back in 1996 that we were of the slow ilk. One of the more speedy and accomplished Wannabees took us aside and showed us where to dance. Even showed us a few helpful techniques.
Karen will not admit this. That a New Yorker showed her anything – even about how to teach a Yankee – about Texas Two-Stepping. Not in New York.
Not in a place called, “Denim & Diamonds.”