RIP, White Hot Mama

I was just about to go to bed tonight when I saw the news of Ann Richards' death.

Gov. Richards was a political hero of mine, certainly. A firm progressive in a state that hasn't always been receptive to such leanings, she earned my admiration for her desire to create a "New Texas" by appointing more women and minorities to state positions than anyone had before.

But even more, she earned my respect on a personal level for being a strong Texas woman like the ones in my family that I've long admired -- like my mom, my aunts, my sister. She ran against a virulently sexist pig and, gracefully but firmly, kicked his ass.

I remember watching in 1988 when she said George H.W. was "born with a silver foot in his mouth," and I remember watching again in 1992 when she led the convention that nominated Bill Clinton for the presidency, even though I had to kick band campers out of the dorm lounge so I could do so.

But mostly, I remember meeting her briefly in 1990, when she came to Pampa's Chautauqua celebration in her run for governor. Dad and I drove over to hear her speak, and afterwards, we got in line so she could sign a bumper sticker for me. She asked me my name, then promptly told me I should change it if I ever wanted to be taken seriously. I loved it. I even tried to take her advice, but it didn't stick. Two years later, Dad sent me a Molly Ivins column from Newsweek, quoting Gov. Richards at the Democratic convention. Dad and I don't always agree on everything, but politically, we're pretty in sync. Thinking of Ann Richards reminds me of that.

Thanks for giving 'em hell, Ann.