Good morning and welcome to Summit Up, the world's only daily column that has the dress sense of Woody Allen and a slight Texas twang, which we suspect will slowly fade with time. In an inversion of the Battle of the Alamo, Texans have stormed our email boxes and, in one case, our front lobby, with howdy-dos and High Country advice to our new editor, who, although he is a native of the Lone Star State, has never owned cowboy boots, a cowboy hat or even America's Team attire. Though this might lead one to believe he would fit in just fine, a reader going by the name of Deep Tex gave him this tip: "Remove the Texas plates and purge burnt orange from your wardrobe. That will greatly reduce the frequency of the one-fingered salutes you receive." Deep Tex's statements have led us to believe there might be an underground society in our midst, a fraternal order populated exclusively with Texan expats. They look like us. They drive Subarus and wear fleece vests. They are among us, and they are legion. We think it's time for Texans to come out of the shadows and declare their heritage - within reason, of course. Remember the Alamo, sure, but let's not start an avalanche over it. OK, y'all?
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