Why the Texan Holy Trinity Is More Sacred Than BBQ Sauce

In Georgia, we grew up revering grits, sweet tea, and the SEC. In Texas, we've got our own holy trinity: Willie Nelson, Stevie Ray Vaughan, and Selena.

Bless their boots.

We might debate BBQ styles, but on these three icons, there's consensus as solid as a cowboy's handshake. When I've brought up this topic, I have generally found a majority agreement. If you don't understand why these three embody the spirit of Texas and why any out-of-towner should learn to pay their respects, I'll be glad to lay it out for you.

Willie Nelson is The Patron Saint of the Open Road. He's the voice for Texas freedom. Willie isn't just a musician; he's a state of mind—somewhere between a rolling joint and a rolling hill in Hill Country.

When I was a kid growing up, he did us an honor when he gave us a gift we couldn't repay with the most pristine rendition of Georgia On My Mind. PBS used to close the station down at night with it.

As a bona fide legacy of Outlaw Country, his music speaks to the Texan ideals of independence and rebellion. Texans love a man who can sing about heartbreak while wearing pigtails and not care what you think. It's just the way.

Even non-country fans will nod along to On the Road Again—it's basically the Texan national anthem. If that doesn't get you worked up, he does the Yellow Rose of Texas, too. Case closed.

Now we just have to keep him in bubble wrap because, as of this writing, he's the only one we have left.

The second person in the Trifecta is Stevie Ray Vaughan, who we can identify as The Guitar-Slinging Prophet. If Texas had a sound, it'd be Stevie Ray Vaughan's guitar—loud, unapologetic, and smoother than a Lone Star beer on a hot day. He has been described as "blues meets Texas swagger," and that's a proper assessment.

Stevie helped put Austin on the map as a live music mecca. Without Stevie, Austin might just be another city with traffic problems and too many hipsters. His style kept everything on tempo and right where it needed to be.

That hat, those boots, and that guitar, well, Stevie looked like he stepped out of a Texas dream and into your soul.

I saw Stevie for the first and only time when he toured with Jeff Beck back on November 19, 1989, at the Omni in Atlanta, Georgia. I had graduated high school and was in the period where I'd been accepted at Vanderbilt University to pursue a degree in English. This was a celebration of that event, like one would pop a cork on champagne.

What better way to acknowledge the idea you were going somewhere in life than to spend it in the presence of two of the highest guitar gods to walk the green Earth? It was an experience I was able to walk away with because, sadly, it was the last tour for Stevie.

This leads us to the final member of the Texas Triune, Selena, the Tejano Queen Who Reigns Forever. Many folks outside Texas don't understand, and that's okay. We have our own attachments. Let's put it this way: I have a Funko Pop Selena on the shelf over my desk next to my beloved Sparty. I have it because a shipment came into the local HEB.

The shipment was liquidated entirely by the end of the day. I was one of those impulse buyers. Because, San Antonio.

Home.

Selena was more than just a Tejano superstar; she was the heartbeat of South Texas. If you don't know the words to Como La Flor, do you even Texas? From Halloween costumes to grocery store playlists, Selena's everywhere in the Lone Star—and nobody's complaining.

She had the unique ability to unify Texan and Mexican-American cultures, and her voice brought people together faster than a free taco truck. If you're one of those mental midgets that thinks that's an insult of some sort, you ain't from around here.

Tex-Mex says it in the name. Without Tejano and Mexican culture, you don't have a Texas worth living in. It's the values, the food, the way things should be. I love it that way, and I love it here.

I would like to take this opportunity to point out the obvious. I know for a gospel fact some of you are reading this and thinking I missed somebody. Don't get it twisted. I love me some George Strait.

I acknowledge he is a Texan son. He is also a nationwide country icon; I only have three slots here. Besides, he's the one who announced to us that all of his exes live in Texas, and that's why he resides in Tennessee. I didn't make him say that; he said it on his own.

Anyone who's been to a tailgate in Austin knows that orange is not the same as rust, and there's a big difference between that Knoxville shade and ours.

Granted, and rightfully, any jukebox in this nation is just not doing justice without his songs in it, but the point still remains that there are three chairs here, and I said what I said.

Willie, Stevie, and Selena may have different sounds, but they share a soul: freedom, resilience, and the ability to make you cry over a cold Lone Star. They represent everything Texas holds dear: music, pride, and a little bit of rebellion wrapped in authenticity. That's why Texas loves them.

Every Texan's Spotify playlist is basically a tribute to these three. And if it's not, they'd better keep that quiet.

You can tell a lot about a place by the legends it lifts up. In Texas, Willie, Stevie, and Selena tell you everything you need to know. These three icons prove that Texas isn't just a state—it's a feeling, a sound, and occasionally, a tear in your eye when Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain comes on.

So next time you cross the state line, just remember: Willie is the sage, Stevie is the soul, and Selena is the spirit. And don't even think about arguing with a Texan about it.