The way to a true Texas dance hall– not the metropolitan simulations, with their aesthetic trusses, last-call footraces, as well as she’s-mine testosterone– is with the country, a long drive by pastures as well as cornfields and livestock guards, previous driveways that resemble roads and also roads with numbers for names. You’ll half assume you’re lost en route, after that feel a shock when you arrive, not at the dimension of the structure but at the number of trucks parked outside.
An older couple at the front door will take your money and smile like they recognize you. They’ll gab in detail, if you stay, about the bands they saw here when they were youngsters, dropping names like Adolph Hofner as well as the Pearl Wranglers, the Texas Top Hands, Johnny Shrub, acts you can tell you should know much better.
You listen, yet your eyes go to the dancing floor. If the band hasn’t started yet in addition, the floor is vacant, you’ll notice the long, dark slabs, probably pine or oak, beaming from years of being brightened by boot natural leather. They show none of the typical sawdust, merely dashes of light reflected from Xmas lights putting up from the rafters. As you scout for an open table along the worn, clapboard walls– where parents pull supper from small coolers and also grandpas fold brownish bags on half-pints in addition, kids impulse to go slide on their knees before the kiosk– you’ll maintain looking back at the floor.
If you find one of these places where it’s still safe to take the kids, you have found a true Texas dance hall. A place where people know one another and a good time is to be had by all. These places exemplify the true character of Texas, a character I hope lasts forever.