I was recently identified as a Whipsmart Brazen Hussy, which is a term I don't take lightly, and feel I live up to. In fact, I believed for a long time that one day people would group the three interesting Texan whipsmart funny women: Ann Richards, Molly Ivins, and me. But what's happened in the ensuing years is that I left Texas, and Ann died, and now, sadly, so has Molly.
Living in Texas while watching Ann kick Clayton "just relax and enjoy it" Williams's ass inward was a fine thing. Reading Molly's version of the theater that is the Texas Legislature was also a fine thing. These women didn't know me. But they provided me hours of constant enjoyment, pride, insight.
Rest in peace, Molly. Wherever you are, I want you to know: the New York Times editors were wrong, and should have left your description of the annual chicken slaughter in New Mexico alone. Gangplucking was definitely the best approach.
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