I grew up in the country, outside of a small town, which was itself on the outskirts of Houston. We lived in a doublewide trailer, sharing the land with yaupon bushes, pine trees, stray dogs, and mosquitos. Every summer, we’d gather around the ol’ thermostat and yell cuss words at it, in unison. It was the only time Ma would let us young’uns cuss.
We can disagree about football. I like the Houston Texans, my dad follows the Texans but can’t shake his East Texas roots: he’s a Cowboys fan through and through. I’ve disliked the Cowboys pretty much my entire life. And Dallas, for that matter.
Dallas is what Houston would be if Houstonians lost everything that makes them interesting and fun. All that would be left is a bunch of boring people, sweating profusely, stuck in traffic. I will give them credit for the show, Dallas. And that’s only because (a) J.R. Ewing was a badass, and (b) the theme song reminds me of my childhood. So does the soundtrack to Urban Cowboy and the crisp, cool taste of Budweiser. It’s beechwood aged for that taste that says, “I’m 3 and drinking my uncle’s beer. Again.”
Joel Osteen, pastor of Lakewood Church in Houston, seems to have gotten caught on the wrong side of Hurricane Harvey.
For those of you who aren’t in tune with the goings on of Pastor Joel, let me give you the quick catch-up.
Joel Osteen is the son of John Osteen, a Texas televangelist and founder of Lakewood Church. When John died, his son Joel took over as the church’s leader. In the eighteen years since John’s death, Lakewood Church has grown tremendously in scope, bringing Joel fame and fortune along the way. Continue reading