California Suite Quotes

The setting sun burned the sky pink and orange in the same bright hues as surfers' bathing suits. It was beautiful deception, Bosch thought, as he drove north on the Hollywood Freeway to home. Sunsets did that here. Made you forget it was the smog that made their colors so brilliant, that behind every pretty picture there could be an ugly story.

Nearly seven years after Moore originally filed suit, the Supreme Court of California ruled against him in what became the definitive statement on this issue: When tissues are removed from your body, with or without your consent, any claim you might have had to owning them vanishes. When you leave tissues in a doctor’s office or a lab, you abandon them as waste, and anyone can take your garbage and sell it. Since Moore had abandoned his cells, they were no longer a product of his body, the ruling said. They had been “transformed” into an invention and were now the product of Golde’s “human ingenuity” and “inventive effort.

Wilde stepped off the train in Oakland wearing a Spanish sombrero, a velvet suit, a puce cravat, yellow gloves, and buckled shoes, and wended his way across the bay to the Bohemian Club, where he is reported to have drunk his hosts under the table.

It was kind of a beautiful day, finally real summer in Indianapolis, warm and humid—the kind of weather that reminds you after a long winter that while the world wasn’t built for humans, we were built for the world. Dad was waiting for us, wearing a tan suit, standing in a handicapped parking spot typing away on his handheld. He waved as we parked and then hugged me. “What a day,” he said. “If we lived in California, they’d all be like this.

The most horrible thing about her? She was still holding her big platter of free samples: Crispy Cheese 'n' Wieners. Her platter was dented from all the times Percy had killed her, but those little samples looked perfectly fine. Stheno just kept toting them across California so she could offer Percy a snack before she killed him. Percy didn't know why she kept doing that, but if he ever needed a suit of armour he was going to make it out of Crispy Cheese 'n' Wieners. They were indestructible. 'Try one?' Stheno offered.

Here is one way to conceptualize NASA's heroic era: in 1961, Kennedy gave his "moon speech" to Congress, charging them to put an American on the moon "before the decade is out." In the eight years that unspooled between Kennedy's speech and Neil Armstrong's first historic bootprint, NASA, a newborn government agency, established sites and campuses in Texas, Florida, Alabama, California, Ohio, Maryland, Mississippi, Virginia, and the District of Columbia; awarded multi-million-dollar contracts and hired four hundred thousand workers; built a fully functioning moon port in a formerly uninhabited swamp; designed and constructed a moonfaring rocket, spacecraft, lunar lander, and space suits; sent astronauts repeatedly into orbit, where they ventured out of their spacecraft on umbilical tethers and practiced rendezvous techniques; sent astronauts to orbit the moon, where they mapped out the best landing sites; all culminating in the final, triumphant moment when they sent Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin to step out of their lunar module and bounce about on the moon, perfectly safe within their space suits. All of this, start to finish, was accomplished in those eight years.

Sadness softened her nasal twang, that ubiquitous accent that had drifted out of the Appalachian hills and hollows, across the southern plains, across the southwestern deserts, insinuating itself all the way to the golden hills of California. But somewhere along the way, Rosie had picked up a gentler accent too, a fragrant voice more suited to whisper throaty, romantic words like Wisteria, or humid phrases like honeysuckle vine, her voice for gentleman callers. “Just fine,” she repeated. Even little displaced Okie girls grow up longing to be gone with some far better wind than that hot, cutting, dusty bite that’s blowing their daddy’s crops to hell and gone. I went to get her a beer, wishing it could be something finer.

Most school desegregation suits were brought on behalf of blacks, but Mexican Americans also suffered various forms of school segregation throughout the southwestern states, particularly in California and Texas. It was not until 1970 that Mexican Americans were held to be "an identifiable ethnic minority group" for the purpose of school desegregation.8

It occurred to me to ask why she bought spiny lobsters from California at evident expense, when Homarus americanus was shuffling around the Atlantic coast, on her doorstep. That, Marder told me, was a sort of scientific cautionary tale about the perils of following the herd. The stomatogastric ganglion preparation from Homarus, it seems, was always taken to be difficult to work with because it didn't have lively fictive motor rhythms in the dish. In fact, it was unresponsive because everyone had been putting the ganglion in a saline made with a recipe copied form Edward Kravitz's papers. He is an illustrious researcher, but it so happened that he had devised this saline purposely to keep Homarus muscle preparations from moving, which suited him in the 1960s when he was studying the neuromuscular junction. Somehow the recipe was handed on respectfully and believed to be the 'right' saline for Homarus. ''And that recipe has the wrong calcium to magnesium ratios and so everything is silent. The minute we flipped over to using the Panuliris interruptus saline, the Homarus preparation worked just fine. Homarus got a really bad rap just because of that wrong saline.' Marder put her head in her hands in mock despair. 'Until the late 1990s! Unbelievable.

Platinum Flooring Company’s certified and skilled installers are trained to install hardwood products for any give art form, which would not only make your new floor look great, but last long for years to come. The Platinum Flooring Company’s specialist would not only help you select the perfect laminate flooring for your home that would suit your home décor as well as budget, but would also install your new laminate flooring for a fast, worry-free installation experience. Platinum Flooring Company is a full service, Hayward based flooring and installation firm specializing in classic design with a global influence. Whether designing residential or commercial spaces, Platinum Flooring has built a reputation on achieving highly individual results for a discerning clientele across the state of California and Beyond. At Platinum Floor Company, we have a separate team of stair installers headed by a stair specialist, having intense knowledge of different wood species, latest technology tools and in-depth knowledge of angular complexities. “Wooden floor, especially hardwood is good as it can take a lot of abuse and has a greater life expectancy compared to laminate or engineered floors.”, says Alex Vongsouthi – Founder, Platinum Flooring Company. But there are several reasons which can make your wood floor crack or separate between boards, cup, crown, etc. some being high traffic on the floor, spillages, sunlight and high percentage of moisture content in the room. With this it can be difficult to know whether floors need to be replaced or can be fixed. Platinum Flooring is renowned for its high standards and uncompromising service quality, with the expertise of a high-end retailer in Hardwood, Engineered wood and Laminate flooring.

Reaching California, many of the Pacific-bound servicemen were caught in limbo, waiting for a ship and that suited them fine. No one doubted that the route to Tokyo would be long and bloody, and they were in no hurry to travel it. The sweating malarial jungles of the South Pacific, the infinitesimal atolls of the Central Pacific, all those obscure islands with their alien names - Efate, Espiritu Santo, Malaita, Gaudalcanal, Emirau, Tarawa, Majuro, Kwajalein, Eniwetok, Ulithi, Palau, Saipan, Morotai, Mindinao, Iwo Jima, Okinawa - they would see them soon enough.

The endowment effect helps unlock the mystery of why Harold Staw twice would not sell his stores. In his battle with the Texas shareholders, in which his good friend and lawyer defected to the other side, he was endowed to the California stores in a way that those on the other side of the suit were not. He was unwilling to sell the California stores, stores he had created and built, to protect the value of the Texas stores, stores he had not created and built.

In a small, stuffy, perpetually dark, hot-plastic-scented wiring closet, in a cubicled office suite leased by Novus Ordo Seclorum Systems Incorporated, sandwiched between an escrow company and a discount travel agent in the most banal imaginable disco-era office building in Los Altos, California, a modem wakes up and spews noise down a wire. The noise eventually travels under the Pacific as a pattern of scintillations in a filament of glass so transparent that if the ocean itself were made out of the same stuff, you’d be able to see Hawaii from California. Eventually the information reaches Randy’s computer, which spews noise back. The modem in Los Altos is one of half a dozen that are all connected to the back of the same computer, an entirely typical looking tower PC of a generic brand, which has been running, night and day, for about eight months now. They turned its monitor off about seven months ago because it was just wasting electricity. Then John Cantrell (who is on the board of Novus Ordo Seclorum Systems Inc., and made arrangements to put it in the company’s closet) borrowed the monitor because one of the coders who was working on the latest upgrade of Ordo needed a second screen. Later, Randy disconnected the keyboard and mouse because, without a monitor, only bad information could be fed into the system. Now it is just a faintly hissing off-white obelisk with no human interface other than a cyclopean green LED staring out over a dark landscape of empty pizza boxes. But there is a thick coaxial cable connecting it to the Internet. Randy’s computer talks to it for a few moments, negotiating the terms of a Point-to-Point Protocol, or PPP connection, and then Randy’s little laptop is part of the Internet, too; he can send data to Los Altos, and the lonely computer there, which is named Tombstone, will route it in the general direction of any of several tens of millions of other Internet machines.

In the only picture Brennan ever did for the legendary director John Ford, the character actor worked well beside Ford stalwarts such as Ward Bond, playing one of Earp’s brothers. Indeed, what is most remarkable about this film is the contrast between Clanton and his boys and Earp and his congenial brothers, the youngest of whom is killed when the Clanton gang rustles cattle the Earps have been driving to California. Brennan personifies the authority of evil, as he does in Brimstone (August 15, 1949), where he again bullies his boys into driving out homesteaders. It is almost as if in each subsequent film—especially in Westerns—Brennan is building a persona that is like a suit subjected to constant alteration without ever losing its basic contours. He would essay yet another version of the dominating father with sons in tow in Shoot Out at Big Sag (June 1, 1962), an independent production organized by his son Andy, in which Walter plays a pusillanimous preacher who has let down his wife and family by not defending them. But he ultimately redeems himself when he realizes he has lost the respect of everyone, including his daughter, who in the end proves to be his salvation owing to her unwillingness to accept her family’s defeatist mentality.

Brennan was well aware of the irony inherent in catering to an audience who still thought of him as a hillbilly: “Some of my friends say that the Tycoon is remarkably like myself, much more so than McCoy.” Almost plaintively he declared, “I do wear suits, shirts, ties, and even shoes. . . . The fact is that I actually do have business interests, and am in personal life much closer to being an executive than a farmer.” Richard Crenna said as much about his Real McCoys co-star. In fact, Brennan owned a piece of The Tycoon not to mention his ranch and other properties in California and Oregon. And like Walter Andrews (his first and middle names, which as an extra he sometimes used together), he enjoyed learning other peoples’ business—as when he ran the store in Joseph when its owner was late showing up. When in Joseph, he always liked to stay in room 16 in his motel, which had an adjoining room he used as an office.

January 14: At 1:46 p.m. Marilyn marries Joe DiMaggio. She gives Harry Brand, publicity director at Fox, only one hour’s notice, but one hundred reporters still manage to make it to the lobby and corridor of San Francisco’s Town Hall, where the marriage takes place. Only a few of Joe’s friends and family are present. Marilyn brings no guests to the three-minute ceremony. Photographs show Marilyn wearing a dark brown woolen suit with an ermine collar, holding three orchids in her hand. By the time the ceremony ends, an estimated two hundred photographers and three hundred fans crowd around Joe and Marilyn as the couple jumps into Joe’s night blue Cadillac. The couple spends their wedding night at the Hot Springs Hotel in Paso Robles, California.

The next business Michael needed to do was to go to the Divinity School to recruit men who would lead Christians down the wrong path. Luckily, he had already talked to a professor who told him which men were best suited for such a task. He needed men who would be preaching in California, Texas, and some of the other key States where they could influence a lot of people to their way of thinking and could get on TV to an even wider audience. Men that wouldn’t be seen as power hungry and craving riches, like some of the televangelists from the ‘80’s, but appeared to have the people’s welfare in mind. The men Michael wanted to recruit needed to be slicker than that and seem like they were on a mission from God.

About Tough as Silk, Escape from Beijing Uta Christensen did it again! With Tough as Fine Silk, Escape from Beijing, she wrote a most fascinating novel, so different from her other books. What impressed me first is her incredible knowledge of China. I learned so much about that part of the world—the historical, cultural and political aspects—through her wonderful and detailed expositions during that long train ride. I wondered whether she followed that route herself when she visited China. The intriguing love story that Ms. Christensen has so masterfully interwoven is a delightful contrast. It brings the reader back to reality, even though it does not feel quite real at times with all the premonitions hinting at a different outcome than desired. The betrayal was a shock, of course, but thinking about the planned future of the couple in California, it becomes clear that that kind of life would not have suited lovely Juan. She yearns for freedom, success, and independence—for a life that she can control herself. The intricate ideas Ms. Christensen brought together in this book and the easy-flowing style make the reading of the novel a true pleasure. I am happy she wrote this fine book, and I hope she will find a lot of excited readers. The finished product should make her very happy and proud.

THE MEETING GOT under way as soon as Marshall walked into the room. He looked dignified and serious, and he was wearing a dark suit. There were three men at the conference table, across from him, from a company in Boston that was not quite as large as UPI, but very close, and its growth rate had been remarkable in the past two years. It was well on its way to becoming the largest corporation in the country and outstripping all its competitors. And all it needed now was a powerful leader at its helm. And everyone at its base in Boston had agreed that Marshall Weston was the one. They had no idea if he would consider leaving UPI, and they doubted it after fifteen years, but they had come to California to try and convince him to do it. And he was listening raptly to what they said. It was their second meeting in two days, and they were going back to Boston that night. Marshall

We’ve driven wedges between parents and children, between liberals and conservatives, between whites and ethnic groups, and between the religious and non religious. We’ve all but destroyed feelings of patriotism and blocked all attempts to stop illegal immigration, improve border control, and establish a national language. And with our nationwide campaign of law suits, we’ve stretched your Constitution almost beyond recognition."       Rulon paused to study O’Brien’s face. "Don’t see it yet? The tremendous influx of Hispanics will ultimately result in large portions of Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, California, and Florida being dominated by people speaking English only as a second language or not at all. Add the immigration—legal and illegal—of Muslims from Africa, the Middle East, and Eastern Europe, with all their cultural baggage, and you’ve got real diversity.

At 10:50 on September 20, the jury announced they had reached a verdict—a unanimous decision. Daniel Hernandez and Ray Clark were summoned. Richard was brought from the jail. He refused to change into a suit and wore jail blues. The press packed the courtroom. All the networks interrupted broadcasts to announce that a verdict had been reached. At 2:12, everyone was gathered in the packed courtroom. Carrillo and Salerno sat in their usual places. Clark told Judge Tynan that Richard did not want to be present for the verdict. Halpin said he wanted him there. Tynan refused to have Richard chained up to hear the verdict. It wouldn’t be good for the jury to see him that way before the penalty stage. He ruled Richard could hear the verdict from the court holding cell, citing “the Ninth Circuit of California v. Spainer. ”He queried Richard on the record, asking him four times if he relinquished his right to be present during the verdicts, and each time Richard said yes. He signed a waiver and was taken back to the holding cell.

Reaching California, many of the Pacific-bound servicemen were caught in limbo, waiting for a ship, and that suited them fine. No one doubted that the route to Tokyo would be long and bloody, and they were in no hurry to travel it. The sweating malarial jungles of the South Pacific, the infinitesimal atolls of the central Pacific, all those obscure islands with their alien names—Efate, Espiritu Santo, Malaita, Guadalcanal, Emirau, Tarawa, Majuro, Kwajalein, Eniwetok, Ulithi, Palau, Saipan, Morotai, Mindanao, Iwo Jima, Okinawa—they would see them soon enough. “Golden Gate in ’48, bread line in ’49.” That pessimistic slogan, which began circulating in 1942, revealed a great deal about the attitudes of the American servicemen who fought in the Pacific. They fully expected that the war would last twice as long as it eventually did, and they assumed, as a matter of course, that the long effort would exhaust and bankrupt the nation. But the words also indicated a gritty, persevering determination. The Japanese had fatally misjudged them. They were not cowed by the prospect of a long war and a destitute homecoming. They would go on fighting, killing, and dying, overcoming fear, fatigue, and sorrow, until they reached the beaches of the detested empire itself. There, in 1945, the irresistible force of the Yankee war machine would meet the immovable object of the “Yamato spirit,” until two mushroom clouds and an emperor’s decision brought the whole execrable business to an end.

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reading the text copy. “Where three protestors against the launch of the armed American space mission to investigate the landing of the Visitor starship on Mars set themselves on fire. The identities of the dead have not yet been determined, but nothing of the sort has been seen since the Vietnam War protests in the 1960s.” “Jesus,” Lee murmured. “The tumult and chaos outside the houses of power in the Capitol were mirrored by the violence within the halls of the House of Representatives.” “Warmongering terrorists from this administration are going to drag us into a war!” Morales recognized the congressman screaming the accusation. He was from California because of course he was, a slender dagger of a man dressed in a suit that cost more than Morales made in a month, though he styled himself as a champion of the poor. “Not just with the Russians, but with advanced aliens who could destroy this entire planet!” Spittle flecked from his mouth as he clutched the microphone against the grip of the sergeant-at-arms who tried to pull him away, and the Speaker of the House slammed her gavel. “You

you scored 14-16 points: California may be the best fit for you. With its warm weather, abundant job opportunities, diverse culture, and proximity to outdoor activities, California may appeal to those looking for an exciting and active lifestyle. However, keep in mind that California is also known for its high cost of living and expensive housing market.

over an hour ago, but the summer night air was still thick with heat. My boots sounded deceptively heavy, thudding against the metal rungs, echoing the pounding in my head. The synthetic suit that Ian Crane, President, had given me was identical to the ones his soldiers wore, and marked my new allegiance to the Coalition of Rebel States: California, Nevada, Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico and Texas, known as the Coalition. It was strikingly similar to the adapti-suits worn by the Talented Organization for Extremely Interesting Citizens (TOXIC)

All I have I would have given, gladly, not to be standing here today.” The chamber became hushed. He had struck exactly the right note of sorrowful humility. It was a good start, George thought. Johnson continued in the same vein, speaking with slow dignity. If he felt the impulse to rush, he was controlling it firmly. He wore a dark-blue suit and tie, and a shirt with a tab-fastened collar, a style considered formal in the South. He looked occasionally from one side to the other, speaking to the whole of the chamber and at the same time seeming to command it. Echoing Martin Luther King, he talked of dreams: Kennedy’s dreams of conquering space, of education for all children, of the Peace Corps. “This is our challenge,” he said. “Not to hesitate, not to pause, not to turn about and linger over this evil moment, but to continue on our course so that we may fulfill the destiny that history has set for us.” He had to stop, then, because of the applause. Then he said: “Our most immediate tasks are here on this hill.” This was the crunch. Capitol Hill, where Congress sat, had been at war with the president for most of 1963. Congress had the power to delay legislation, and used it often, even when the president had campaigned and won public support for his plans. But since John Kennedy announced his civil rights bill they had gone on strike, like a factory full of militant workers, delaying everything, mulishly refusing to pass even routine bills, scorning public opinion and the democratic process. “First,” said Johnson, and George held his breath while he waited to hear what the new president would put first. “No memorial oration or eulogy could more eloquently honor President Kennedy’s memory than the earliest possible passage of the civil rights bill for which he fought so long.” George leaped to his feet, clapping for joy. He was not the only one: the applause burst out again, and this time went on longer than previously. Johnson waited for it to die down, then said: “We have talked long enough in this country about civil rights. We have talked for one hundred years or more. It is time, now, to write the next chapter—and to write it in the books of law.” They applauded again. Euphoric, George looked at the few black faces in the chamber: five Negro congressmen, including Gus Hawkins of California, who actually looked white; Mr. and Mrs. Wright in the presidential box, clapping; a scatter of dark faces among the spectators in the gallery. Their expressions showed relief, hope, and gladness. Then his eye fell on the rows of seats behind the cabinet, where the senior senators sat, most of them Southerners, sullen and resentful. Not a single one was joining in the applause. •

In a small, stuffy, perpetually dark, hot-plastic-scented wiring closet, in a cubicled office suite leased by Novus Ordo Seclorum Systems Incorporated, sandwiched between an escrow company and a discount travel agent in the most banal imaginable disco-era office building in Los Altos, California, a modem wakes up and spews noise down a wire. The noise eventually travels under the Pacific as a pattern of scintillations in a filament of glass so transparent that if the ocean itself were made out of the same stuff, you’d be able to see Hawaii from California. Eventually the information reaches Randy’s computer, which spews noise back. The modem in Los Altos is one of half a dozen that are all connected to the back of the same computer, an entirely typical looking tower PC of a generic brand, which has been running, night and day, for about eight months now.

I remember watching these kids getting up in the morning on my dorm floor, putting on a suit and tie and a briefcase, talking about this guy from California named Ronald Reagan and how he was going to be the next president,” says Mould. “And I’d be sitting there arguing with those fucks in speech class and poli sci and just hating that, thinking, ‘This is not acceptable behavior. This is not what we’re supposed to be doing with our late teens.

Procedural Posture Appellant challenged the orders of the Superior Court of San Diego County (California) directing indemnification of respondent for his expenses incurred in defense of a cross-complaint in the underlying litigation between appellant and appellant's franchisee and in his proceedings seeking indemnification for attorneys' fees and costs under Cal. Corp. Code § 317. California Business Lawyer & Corporate Lawyer, Inc. is a Civil Attorney Orange County Overview Appellant's franchisee sued appellant, respondent and others, for, among other things, an antitrust claim on behalf of all of appellant's franchisees. Respondent was later dismissed as appellant's president and chief executive officer and filed a lawsuit for breach of his employment contract. Following a judgment favorable to respondent in his employment contract suit, appellant filed suit seeking a declaratory judgment that it did not have to indemnify respondent in the litigation with its franchisee. The trial court found that respondent acted in good faith and in a manner he reasonably believed to be in the best interests of appellant, and thus he should be indemnified by appellant pursuant to Cal. Corp. Code § 317. The trial court also awarded respondent attorneys' fees and costs incurred as a result of litigation. On appeal, the court affirmed. There was no factual finding in appellant's franchisee's suit that appellant, under respondent, had engaged in illegal practices. Substantial evidence supported the trial court's finding of respondent's good faith. Also, the trial court did not abuse its discretion in its determination and award of attorneys' fees. Outcome The court affirmed the orders of the trial court because substantial evidence supported the trial court's finding that because respondent acted in good faith and in a manner he reasonably believed to be in appellant's best interest, he was entitled to indemnification from appellant. Also, the trial court did not abuse its discretion by awarding respondent attorneys' fees and costs.

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Fred Toyosaburo Korematsu was born in Oakland, California, on January 30, 1919, to parents who ran a flower nursery. After graduating from high school, he worked as a shipyard welder until, like Mitsuye Endo, he lost his job after Pearl Harbor. When the order for relocation came, Korematsu ignored it, unwilling to leave his Italian American girlfriend. He was arrested in May 1942. While awaiting trial, he was visited in jail by an attorney with the California branch of the American Civil Liberties Union. The California ACLU was looking for someone for whom it could file suit to test the constitutionality of Executive Order 9066.

The next break came from statute law, namely from the Equal Science Act. This says that “no scientific theory, hypothesis, principle, law definition, program, procedure or statement may be taught in any California school while in conflict with any other theory etc arising from any religious teaching, unless both theories etc are given equal emphasis as equally valid”. The idea was to give Genesis equal time with evolution as a creation theory, but it soon got out of hand, with Ptolemaic Anabaptists insisting on equal time with the Copernican theory, and finally with the Christian Flat Earth Assembly (Swiss Synod), whose representatives brought a suit against a California teacher for mentioning satellites. These are no satellites orbiting a flat earth, they pointed out, and so anyone mentioning satellites should also express doubt about their existence. A group of astronomers filed a countersuit, claiming that if satellites were unreal, their livelihood was in jeopardy. Moreover, satellite communications could not work and could not therefore be licensed by the government. ‘The state legislature had to meet quickly and draft an amendment to the California Comsat Act of 1998. In effect, the amendment hedged on the question of the reality of satellites by considering them as “sentient devices”. Thus if satellites believed in their own existence, they had a right to be real. Of course this opened up the whole question of freedom of religious belief for robots

I actually spend far more time in the saddle than I do on the drum throne. That takes its toll, too—in the sore spots that Michael and I call “saddle tats”; in the tired mind from making a million decisions about traffic and road surfaces as you ride hour after hour; and in a body beaten by wind, vibration, and the physical activity of motorcycling, especially in the mountains, with so much braking, shifting, accelerating, and moving your body on the bike for more effective cornering. Then there was the heat—in the 100s for many days, especially in the Southwest. Desert heat is one thing, but when the humidity is also high, as in South Texas, and you’re wearing the armored suit, helmet, gloves, and boots, you get to feel like you’re covered in a coat of slime, riding past a small-town bank clock showing 105°. We have seen some fantastically scenic parts of the country, though. This western swing carried us through the Rockies, the Cascades, the Sierra Nevada, Northern and Southern California, the Great Basin, a broad swath of northern Arizona, across Colorado (or “Cop-orado,” as I have christened the state, for its overzealous enforcement of artificially low speed limits), and some of Texas’s prettiest landscapes, the Hill Country and Gulf Coast.