This is Probably Funnier if You’re *From* Paris, Texas (Like Me)

Lately I keep bumping into my provenance, which ain’t Provence, y’all. (But that is an awesome 50-cent word!)

First someone told me that there’s a “boy from Paris, Texas” in one of the Fancy Nancy books. Then I re-encountered this gem on the menu at Kerbey Lane (the “old-fashioned” one–that’s what my son calls it–in Austin):

Ah, the strange wonders of having grown up in the second largest Paris in the world!

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  1. Jami:

    Do you remember the big movie premiere for “Paris, Texas”? That was big time stuff then. (I think it was at the Grand, which is apparently being rescued and refurbished. Or they want to save it or something.)

  2. Since I have moved back to the hometown it seems I can’t get into all the Parisian (yes, I mean France-related) objects that are sold in town to decorate our humble homes. I like our slice of heaven outside of Paris – so it always pains me to say “Paris, TX” when I am asked where I live. I’ve changed it to Powderly, TX – just outside of Paris, TX and when that look of confusion passes over their face there is that old fallback of “2 hours NE of Dallas”.
    There is much to be proud of from growing up during my youth in the small town – we had solid values and supportive parents and mentors to achieve what we wanted. I always thought it would be a good place to raise my children. Not so much now. As I wandered out into the world and saw much more of it then came back and saw what it is today I was heartbroken.

    • That’s deep, Tisha. I’d love to hear more. That I’m “from” Paris seems like an odd footnote. I’ve been gone so long now that it seems so very far away.

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