He said he wanted to go native, see some ‘real’ Texans. I told him I’d take him to a mullet bar. There were enough of those in town. That meant cheap beer, no suit shirts, no shiny shoes, nothing that might suggest Wall Street.  He’d been working for an investment banking firm for way too long, the Ivy Leagues before that.  Here, what you need is simple, just a t-shirt, jeans, and boots. "But I don’t have boots," he said. "That’s right – well, we’ll get you some if we have time, something to remember your first true Texas experience," I said. He explained he’d been to Austin a couple times. I told him Austin didn’t count. "Most of the people there are from New York, California, or DC."

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