AUSTIN, Texas — The state of Texas is in good shape. Make that, in a good shape.
Big, boxy panhandle at the top. Long, snaking dagger at the bottom. Sharp, pointy arrow to the west. Swollen, squiggly-edged blob to the east. No other state among the Lower 48 is as big. No other state is as recognizable. And no other state is as potent of an icon, its outline reproduced in everything from kitschy souvenirs to advertising logos to government proclamations.
Whether you are Texan by birth or by heart, there are hundreds of map-themed treasures to reaffirm your allegiance: Texas-shaped ashtrays, Texas-shaped earrings, Texas-shaped sunglasses, Texas-shaped pot holders, Texas-shaped cutting boards, Texas-shaped lawn ornaments, Texas-shaped crossword puzzles and, for those legendary "eyes of Texas," Texas-shaped makeup kits. At the Big Texan Motel in Amarillo, you can swim in a Texas-shaped swimming pool. At the public zoo in Fort Worth, you can stroll on Texas-shaped cobblestones. At college football games here in the capital, you can watch the University of Texas marching band turn itself into the shape of Texas.
The smallest Texas outline can be found in the pages of the Texas Monthly magazine, which uses a one-eighth-inch map to punctuate the end of its articles. The largest is said to be a 400-foot-wide grove of trees planted by a Midland farmer. Texas license plates sport a silhouette of the state. So do vehicle inspection stickers and rural highway markers. Beer companies regularly salute the map, promoting their suds with neon Texas-shaped signs and aluminum Texas-shaped labels. If beer is not for you, try sipping something else--poured over Texas-shaped ice cubes--while munching Texas-shaped chips or Texas-shaped noodles.
"Tex-map mania." That's how University of Texas history professor Richard V. Francaviglia describes this phenomenon, a melding of cartography and merchandising unrivaled by any other state. "Some of this stuff is so delightfully tacky," said Francaviglia, who boasts more than 1,000 map-themed artifacts in his personal collection. "But there's also some deep reasons why it's done."
Francaviglia has outlined those reasons in a scholarly tome, "The Shape of Texas," which is devoted to the map as a metaphor--not just for geography, but for history, identity and culture. "The map of Texas is a symbol of Texan-ness," said Francaviglia, a 54-year-old non-Texan who heads the Center for Greater Southwestern Studies and the History of Cartography at the university's Arlington campus. "I don't know too many other places that do that with their state."
