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Brooks Peterson
Brooks Peterson's column is published Mondays. Brooks also sits on the Caller-Times editorial board and can be contacted at petersonb@caller.com
Monday, January 8, 2001
Texans must contend with two-bit issue
OK, troops: We've successfully negotiated another holiday season. Now it's time for us to roll up our sleeves and take care of some pressing business.
Every Texan, whatever his or her walk of life, whatever his or her political leanings, faces an enormous challenge. It could in fact have a great deal to do with whether Texas as we know it will survive.
OK, OK: Maybe it's not that cosmic - but it's still a really, really big deal.
Has no one else out there given any thought to what we Texans are going to do when it comes our turn to cook up a design for our own 50 States Quarter?
You have noticed, I trust, the 50 States Quarters that are even now cascading out of the U.S. Mint and into our pockets and purses? Each state - beginning with Delaware, the first to join the union - will ultimately be represented.
Unlike some of the Mint's past inspirations (the Susan B. Anthony dollar, anyone, the two-dollar bill?), this one shows every sign of having been thoughtfully conceived and (so far) intelligently implemented.
With the program having begun in 1999, and with five of the new quarters to be issued each year, we now have 10 examples before us.
Some are genuinely impressive - even elegant. I'm particularly impressed by the entry from Connecticut, which in my view represents the class of the pack to date: a view of the Charter Oak, in which, in 1687, rebellious colonists (they're precocious in Connecticut, I guess) stashed their charter to keep the Brits from getting hold of it. The coin is simple, artistic and eloquent.
The entry from Massachusetts ain't no slouch, either: Your sturdy Minuteman standing guard, with a silhouette of The Bay State behind him.
By any standard, the zaniest offering to this point has to be the quarter from New Hampshire. Talk about packing a lot of imagery and rhetoric into a small space: You've got a representation of the Old Man of the Mountain (with accompanying legend), a rock formation that bears a striking resemblance to the profile of actor Ted Danson, plus New Hampshire's in-your-face state motto: "Live Free Or I'll Kill You."
No, no, wait: I think it's "Live Free Or Die." You get the idea.
As I understand it, each state is responsible for coming up with its own design. As the 28th state to sign on, our number doesn't come up until 2004. But trust me: As a fully accredited procrastinator, I'm here to tell you these things have a way of creeping up on you.
In recent days, I've thought and thought and thought about this. It may strike you as a bit odd that I should be so preoccupied with it, but somebody's got to think about this stuff: That's why we editorialists get the big bucks and the glory.
Way I see it, we're looking at a major challenge here. Not that I want to run down all those other little podunk states, but what we've got here is a tremendously complex social, cultural, economic and ethnic/racial entity. Can you think of a single image that would adequately capture and convey the essence of Texas?
Oh, sure, there's the Alamo, an extraordinarily powerful icon - but, important as it is, it represents but one aspect of the Texas Experience. A geographic feature, perhaps? A nice view of the Padre Island dunes? Same objection: Too limited. The Hemisfair Tower in San Antonio? Old news.
After mulling this over at great length, I offer three options for your consideration. First, how about Texas' official roadside creature, the armadillo? An armadillo defiantly bestriding the center stripe of a Farm to Market road - now, that's Texana.
No? Then how about a view of the Cadillac Ranch, Amarillo tycoon Stanley Marsh III's Cadillac Ranch, a peculiarly Texas slant on Stonehenge, with tail-finned Cadillacs instead of huge stone pillars arranged in a circle.
Or perhaps, just perhaps, we should hark back to the inspired minimalism that used to grace our license plates: Simply "TEXAS" in big, bold letters. I mean, once you've said that, you've said it all.
Brooks Peterson
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