Sandy, Texas - Sandy sits by the door. He looks good...weathered Levis...just the right tilt on his hat...a piece of straw in his mouth and those lazy eyes. I remembered why I had come.
"They say you’re the smallest town in Texas.."
He looks at me, his sleepy, azure eyes faintly amused. "Yep..." he laughed. "That’s me, Sandy, Texas." He stuck out his hand. I had to admit I was charmed.
"You live here then?"
"Right here in this house...next to the Sandy Store...been here all my life."
"Then...this is the smallest town in Texas?" I must admit that a hint of sarcasm entered my voice.
"No," he replied "...this isn’t the smallest town in Texas...I am."
I was taken aback. I wasn’t sure I had understood him correctly. "You mean that you are the last living resident?" I prompted.
"No," he chided...his eyes teased. "I mean that I, Sandy, Texas, am the town." He studied my reaction. I was quiet for a moment, thinking about what he claimed.
"What do you mean ‘you are the town?’" I asked.
He stood up suddenly and walked across the room to the long counter. It held a few cuts of sausage...some cheese. None of it looked too fresh. He looked off towards the old yellowed All the way with LBJ stickers and spoke with a faraway light in his eyes. "I was born here...my parents were born here." He turned and met my eyes. "All the rest died." He looked down at the floor. "I never knew most of them...then my parents passed away...I was the only one left...I was lonely. The town got more mail than I did so I went over to the county seat and changed my name."
"...to Sandy Texas?"
"Yep...except with a comma...you know Sandy,... Texas." He paused between them in order to accentuate his point. "...I thought I ought to add the comma...you know to avoid confusion."
"..so people would know you were the town?"
"Yep!" he exclaimed with a laugh. "You got it!"
"But...you’re only one person? How can you call yourself a town?" I demanded.
"Hey, I got a post office. I got city government. I got an address. What else do I need?" He challenged. "If it’s good enough for the the U. almighty S. Post Office and the State of Texas then it damn well ought to be good enough for you."
I had to admit the logic of his appeal. "Well, I can see that you have a post office here..." I was not pleased. Round Top was looking bigger and bigger all the time. I feared a public relations disaster. I struck out in desperation. "...you’re not an incorporated town then..."
"No, I admit, we never got around to that but I’m still a real town, make no mistake. Lotsa people used to live here...course I wasn’t the town then. I just lived here."
"So you live here by yourself. There’s not a Mrs. Texas?" I tried to hide my smirk.
His eyes sobered me. He was a hard person not to take seriously. "No...I’m not married." He looked troubled for a moment. "Not many women want to marry a town. So many civic responsibilities...all those ordinances that have to be enforced...it’s hard on a woman."
His sadness was poignant. "So was there someone..someone special?"
"....yeah...a special lady. She was a small town too. I thought for a while we could incorporate...but it never came to anything."
"Why not?"
"Well, we had a difference of opinion on tax rates...I wanted to float a bond and she couldn’t live with the long term debt service. I guess it just wasn’t in the cards."
I was touched. He didn’t act like any bureaucratic city government I had ever known. He seemed almost human. "I guess it’s not easy being a town."
He faced me, matching my gentle sarcasm with his gaze. "No, it’s not easy. I talk to other cities all the time and..."
"You talk to other cities?"
"Yeah. In fact I was just talking to Austin last week..."
"Austin..." I stuttered "You mean the mayor or something?"
His eyes flashed. "Why would I want to talk to a mayor? No I mean the city of Austin itself." His tone dared me to challenge his claim.
"You mean Austin...the town...talks to you."
"Of course, who else would a city talk to...a citizen?" There was scorn in his voice. "Citizens never give us any respect, always griping, always criticizing. Put yourself in a city’s shoes. We keep trying to
organize things and you breed like white mice. You change your homes like you change marriage partners instead of making the one you live in work. How do you expect us to keep up a quality infrastructure when you always up the ante." I could see he was getting agitated.
"You base your housing choices on immature values. Old buildings are discarded...new are built to be disposable...then you blame us when they’re slums in 20 years..."
He paced back and forth, gently pushing his fist into his palm. "A city is alive. That’s what you don’t realize. Cities have feelings too."
I was beginning to become clear that Round Top had nothing to worry about from this quarter. No one would take this kook seriously. I started to get up.
He looked at me sadly. "You don’t believe me...no one ever believes me. It doesn’t matter how much urban renewal I do, the public still thinks I’m rotten to the core. How would you like it if people treated you like that?
"You think it’s easy being a town? Think about it. One day a few settlers roll over a ridge and see a
beautiful valley, fresh water, good soil...plenty of game. They decide it’s a good place to
put down roots. Next thing you know a town in born. It’s a period that’s full of hope. For a while the little
town can do no wrong. People work together because they have to." A small smile creased his lips. He looked off into the distance as though remembering his childhood. "It’s a sweet time. Citizens usually love their town when they have to work to keep it alive." His face clouded. "Then one of two things happens, either the town dies...you know infant town mortality is very common...or things start to go too well. More people, more money, more traffic and next thing you know the citizens have forgotten their partnership with the town. They turn selfish and forget about working together. The town becomes a city." He shuddered.
"I guess you don’t like cities" I prompted.
"No, it’s not that. Some cities are pretty nice. Like I said, I visit with Austin all the time. Austin’s okay, drinks a little too much, has some highway construction problems but who doesn’t. No, the problem with being a city is you lose the love of most of the citizens. People begin to blame you for their problems.
"Over time it changes a town...we get jaded, negative or even have problems with mental
instability...just look at Los Angeles, whoa, the City of Angels and that town is nuttier than a fruitcake." He shook his head sadly. "New York for example...used to be a fine town, full of hope, now...well I don’t mean to talk down a sister city but that burg is completely megalomaniac, thinks she rules the world...it’s sad."
I stood by the door for a minute, unsure whether to stay or go. His words were so improbable that somehow they made sense. "I guess I better go. Thanks for talking to me."
He put out his hand and offered a winsome smile. "Well hey...no hard feelings. We all gotta manage our own resources."
We shook hands. Somehow in our short conversation we had developed a municipal bond. I felt annexed.
His eyes met mine again. "I’ll be up there on the Fourth of July. We need to settle this ‘smallest town in Texas’ thing." He smiled and walked over to the cooler.
"Want some bratwurst?"
