What happened to that state song law?

“Texas our Texas, all hail the mighty state.”

        If you know that state song, you probably went to school in Texas back when we all had to learn it.         What happened to that law? I’ve asked a few young Texans if they know the song. They don’t.

        And what about that other law – the one that required us to put covers on our textbooks?

        PAUSE TO TEXT TEXAS GRANDDAUGHTER.

        Meanwhile, do Oklahoma students still have to learn the names of all 70-plus counties, Adair to Woodward?

        Back to Texas.

        The book cover law apparently is not enforced. Why not? Textbooks are passé. Students instead are issued “online log-ins” – at least where my granddaughter goes to school. It’s one of those beyond-the-suburbs schools where people buy houses to be sure their offspring get to enroll there. But I’m guessing the same situation prevails at my rural alma mater.

        Does an online log-in provide access to online books and course information?

        “Haha yes!!” my granddaughter replied. The “haha” part means she’s smiling at my naïveté, I think. The exclamation points are the standard sentence ending in today’s world. I recently told her I was rebelling against exclamation points and would not be using them except in dire circumstances. She told me she uses enough for both of us!

        Back to Oklahoma.

        My husband and I are headed to an Oklahoma lumberyard. I’ll ask random strangers if they can recite all the Oklahoma counties. I’ll have to distance myself from my husband to do it. No problem.

        Meanwhile, did you know “Texas, Our Texas” was written in 1924 by William J. Marsh, who was born in Liverpool, England, and apparently got to Texas as fast as he could, and Gladys Yoakum Wright of Fort Worth? In 1929, after a statewide competition, the legislature named it the official state song, per my cursory research. That means my Texas mother didn’t have to learn it. She graduated in Electra in 1927. All she had to learn was Latin.

        LUMBERYARD INTERVIEWS.

        No surprises. An Oklahoman about my age said he had to memorize all 77 counties.

        “But that was 50 years ago,” he said, guessing that students are now no longer required to do so.

        Other interviewees of varying ages gave conflicting answers. One guy said he had to learn them for 4-H. One 21-year-old said he had to learn the list as a high school freshman.

        “I done forgot ‘em,” he added.

        Another guy roughly the same age, who went to the same school, was absolutely certain he didn’t have to learn the counties.

        To all that I sing “You’re doing fine, Oklahoma” for keeping the tradition at least halfway alive.