A collection of Courtney's columns from the Texas Monthly, curing the curious, exorcizing bedevilment, and orienting the disoriented, advising "on such things as: Is it wrong to wear your football team's jersey to church? When out at a dancehall, do you need to stick with the one that brung ya? Is it real Tex-Mex if it's served with a side of black beans? Can one have too many Texas-themed tattoos?"--Amazon.com.

The Texanist, Texas Monthly's perennially popular advice column, has become the magazine's most-read feature. With an inimitable style and an unassailable wholesomeness, columnist David Courtney has counseled many a well-intentioned Texan, native or wannabe, on how to properly conduct him- or herself. Until the July 2016 issue, an original illustration by the late award-winning artist Jack Unruh, depicting the Texanist in a situation described in the column, accompanied the Texanist's sage wisdom. Unruh's peerless illustrations displayed a sly wit that paired perfectly with Courtney's humorous ripostes. The Texanist gathers several dozen of Unruh's most unforgettable illustrations, along with the fascinating, perplexing, and even downright weird questions that inspired them. Curing the curious, exorcizing bedevilment, and orienting the disoriented, the Texanist advises on such things as: Is it wrong to wear your football team's jersey to church? When out at a dancehall, do you need to stick with the one that brung ya? Is it real Tex-Mex if it's served with a side of black beans? Can one have too many Texas-themed tattoos? The Texanist addresses all of these important subjects and more. Whether you heed the good guidance, or just enjoy the whimsical illustrations, The Texanist will both entertain and educate you.

A study of the changes initiated into the systems and culture of the plain dwellers

Articles and comic verse about the Lone Star State from the Thurber Prize winner: “What’s not to love?” —Texas Monthly Whether reporting for the New Yorker, penning comic verse and political commentary, or writing his memoirs, Calvin Trillin has bumped into Texas again and again. He insists it’s not by design—“there has simply been a lot going on in Texas.” Astute readers will note, however, that Trillin’s family immigrated to America through the port of Galveston, and, after reading this book, many will believe the Lone Star State has somehow imprinted itself on his imagination. Trillin on Texas gathers some of his best writing on subjects near to his heart—politics, true crime, food, and rare books among them—that also have a Texas connection. Indulging his penchant for making “snide and underhanded jokes about respectable public officials,” he offers his signature sardonic take on the Bush dynasty and their tendency toward fractured syntax; a faux but quite believable LBJ speech; and wry portraits of assorted Texas county judges, small town sheriffs, and Houston immigration lawyers. He takes us on a pilgrimage to the barbecue joint that Texas Monthly named the best in Texas, and describes scouting for books with Larry McMurtry. He tells the stories of two teenagers who dug up half a million dollars in an ice chest, and of rare book dealer Johnny Jenkins, who was found floating in the Colorado River with a bullet wound in the back of his head. And he recounts how redneck movie reviewer “Joe Bob Briggs” fueled a war between Dallas’s daily newspapers and pays tribute to two courageous Texas women who spoke truth to power: Molly Ivins and Sissy Farenthold. Sure to entertain both Texans and non-Texans, Trillin on Texas proves again that Trillin is one of America’s shrewdest and wittiest observers.

The editors of Texas Monthly explore what it means to be a Texan in this anthology packed with essays, reportage, recipes, and recommendations from their renowned list of contributors. Big hats, big trucks, big oil fortunes—Texas clichés all. And while those elements do flourish throughout Texas, they alone hardly define the place. The Lone Star State is and has always been a great melting pot, home to sprawling cities, trailblazing innovators, and treasured traditions from all over, many of which become ingrained in popular culture and intertwined with the American ideal. In this collection, the editors of Texas Monthly take stock of their multifaceted, larger-than-life state, including the people, customs, land, culture, and cuisine that have collided and comingled here. Featuring essays, reportage, recipes, and recommendations from the magazine’s legendary roster of contributors, and accompanied by original drawings, Being Texan explores the landscapes that are home to more than 29 million people; the joys and idiosyncrasies of Texan life; underappreciated episodes of Texas history; and distinctive strains of Texan arts and culture. Illuminating, surprising, and entertaining, Being Texan reveals the Lone Star State in all its beauty, vastness, and complexity.

“The convertors would spew it out,” employee Arturo Hernandez recalled, referring to molten metal. “You’d see the ground, the dirt, catch on fire. . . . If you slip, you’d be like a little pat of butter, melting away.” Hernandez was describing work at ASARCO El Paso, a smelter and onetime economic powerhouse situated in the city’s heart just a few yards north of the Mexican border. For more than a century the smelter produced vast quantities of copper—along with millions of tons of toxins. During six of those years, the smelter also burned highly toxic industrial waste under the guise of processing copper, with dire consequences for worker and community health. Copper Stain is a history of environmental injustice, corporate malfeasance, political treachery, and a community fighting for its life. The book gives voice to nearly one hundred Mexican Americans directly affected by these events. Their frank and often heartrending stories, published here for the first time, evoke the grim reality of laboring under giant machines and lava-spewing furnaces while turning mountains of rock into copper ingots, all in service to an employer largely indifferent to workers’ welfare. With horror and humor, anger, courage, and sorrow, the authors and their interviewees reveal how ASARCO subjected its employees and an unsuspecting public to pollution, diseases, and early death—with little in the way of compensation. Elaine Hampton and Cynthia C. Ontiveros weave this eloquent testimony into a cautionary tale of toxic exposure, community activism, and a corporate employer’s dubious relationship with ethics—set against the political tug-of-war between industry’s demands and government’s obligation to protect the health of its people and the environment.