when they aren't asking if I'm Canadian (I'm told it's the safe bet...American's don't get mad at being called Canadians, but the 'Nucks get bent out of shape at being called 'American', which they are), I get asked about my HORSE and my HAT, of which I own neither. It doesn't help that I'm also a J. Ewing...
thanks to Hollywood, almost everyone thinks that Texas is a flat dry desert, with nothing but big cactus, cattle, and oil wells. I immediately shatter their dreams by explaining that Saguaro only grow in Arizona, and counter by asking if they've enjoyed an oilcan of Fosters' today (at which they only serve back puzzled looks, because not only does nobody drink Fosters, but you definitely cannot buy it in an oilcan), and "where is the nearest Kangaroo is for me to punch" (they assure me that the Roo will win, to which I fervently deny, stating "I'm from TEXAS").
I think that it's easy for anyone who has grown up around massive pick-em-up trucks, shit-kicker boots, and HOWDY Y'ALL's, to feel slightly embarrassed of your perception at what Texas means to you. Frankly, speaking as someone who has been all over the world, and has lived a great many other places, there really is no better place.
thankfully my youngest boy has tri-citizenship; America, Australia, and Texas.