The Doc and I just got back from visiting the Dallas half of our grandkids. As the oldest of the bunch was graduating from high school (yes, I’m that old), it was an excuse for both of my sons, What’s-His-Name and the The-Other-One, and me to play computer games together and drink beer. Naturally, this upset the women, so we turned off the computers and binge-watched BeardMeatsFood on YouTube and drank beer.
BeardMeatsFood ought to be compulsory watching at Weight Watcher meetings. Where does such a skinny guy put all that food? I watched the guy eat a 72-ounce steak and a monster basket of French fries, then ask for the dessert menu. After that, I could barely finish a salad for dinner. And is there anything more indicative of First World Problems than the existence of competitive food eaters?
After the graduation party, when he asked me what I wanted to do, I immediately dragged my son down to Dealey Plaza to go through the museums, particularly the excellent new Holocaust Museum next to the infamous School Book Suppository Building. He really wasn’t surprised as I’ve inflicted museums on him in six countries. So far.
As I slowly walked towards the grassy knoll, I encountered a wild-eyed old man with crazy white hair and I knew instantly that he was some kind of half-witted conspiracy loon who was going to grab my arm, drag me to the top of the small hill, all the while lecturing me on “who really did it”. Then, from the raised eyebrows and concerned look on his face, it suddenly dawned on me that the poor man was seeing the same apparition approaching him and fully expected me to behave the same way. Luckily, we passed each other without incident.
It is probably a good thing that I don’t live near Dallas. I would probably visit that grassy knoll once a month, hiding empty rifle shell casings like easter eggs for the fools who gather daily, intent on discovering the long-lost clue that has evaded everyone else for the last six decades.
“Look, Myrtle! There it is, behind the tree! I knew it all along…the real killer was here!”
Dallas has certainly changed in my lifetime. I remember when, if you traveled east from Fort Worth on the newly completed turnpike, first there were fields and cows, then Arlington and the construction site where they were building Six Flags, followed by more cows and fields and then you hit Dallas. Today, the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex spans than twelve counties and is the fastest growing metropolitan area in the United States.
A five-minute drive down any freeway shows what is probably more new commercial construction than exists in all of New Mexico. One of the really striking features is the erection of vast warehouses and factory complexes with signs offering space to rent, meaning that investors are so confident of finding potential lessees that they are building large commercial buildings in advance of need. The whole metroplex is attracting business and people eager to seek lower crime, relief from state income tax, and a business-friendly atmosphere.
The area now has a population larger that eight million, it has an economy that is larger than Houston’s and only slightly smaller than Chicago’s, and it is still growing. If the area were an independent country, the economy of the new nation would rank in the top twenty—right above Switzerland and the Netherlands. And the economy is growing faster than most of those countries above it on the list.
Let’s project the current economic trends into the future just a little bit—say, 25 years. This requires us to do a little guess work and to make a few assumptions. If current trends continue, we are likely to see continued economic flight from New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles while we see continued growth in the already massive Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex. In just 25 years, both the economy of and the population of the area will be larger than Chicago’s, which will drop to fifth place in the nation (lower than Houston’s). The top two spots will remain New York and Los Angeles, while the total economy of Texas will come close to tying the economy of California.
This kind of economic growth invites comparisons with the economy of neighboring New Mexico, where economic stagnation is the rule. It wasn’t that long ago that the headline story in my local newspaper heralded the opening of a new coffee shop. Sadly, the most valuable export from New Mexico is neither energy nor green chile, but our educated children, who must leave the state in search of good jobs.
I hope New Mexico never becomes as populated as Fort Worth and Dallas are about to become, but we could use little more economic development, at least enough to create some jobs, raise the standard of living, and keep our children from leaving the state.
Politically, New Mexico has looked to California as a role model for our economic policy. Perhaps it is time we looked at what is working in Texas.
In my brief year in New Mexico around Clovis and Portales, I found that I liked some of the people all the time, most of the people most of the time, and a small cadre of the people none of the time. There was a bitter core of angry mostly men trying to achieve power in a land that didn't much respect power. It must have been frustrating for them and they could be vicious when they thought you had slighted them. That's why I left after a year teaching at a small church school. Parents of my kids pretty much loved me. They held prayer bands praying that I would stay a second year. Meanwhile the head elder of our church approached me explaining that we did not need a pastor. He preached his own peculiar brand of church doctrine when he and others succeeded in running off a pastor - as many as 5 in one year I found out after taking the job. I told him at that meeting that we needed a pastor as badly as any church I'd ever attended. Needless to say, he took umbrage and proceeded to destroy my future as a church school teacher. I don't really blame New Mexico so much. It might have been all that red sand that used to blow through several times a year. Ruined my record collection that stuff did. Could make a fellow cranky.
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