Among the youngest cohorts of voting age, there’s a running online joke that they “should’ve been” buying real estate or investing in Bitcoin decades ago, before seemingly everything exploded in value, but instead, alas, they were fetuses.

Part of me wonders if Congressman Al Green, the long-serving 78-year-old now facing 37-year-old Christian Menefee in the primary for the newly drawn historically Black 18th Congressional district, might be feeling something similar. Maybe, if he’d been a little nicer to the crypto industry from his seat on the Financial Services Committee (a position he first nabbed way back in 2005) the super PAC Fairshake—backed in large part by the controversial “techno-optimist” Marc Andreessen’s venture capital firm—wouldn’t be spending $1.5 million to get him out of Congress. 

Money is one thing, but that last-minute outside offensive doesn’t fully explain a 24-point favorability gap (52 to 28 percent), advantage Menefee, the former Harris County Attorney who just a couple weeks ago won the runoff to represent the 18th after it sat vacant for nearly a year. (Menefee won under its current boundaries, not the redrawn lines for the upcoming primary.) 

So what gives? We’re talking about Al Green, the man who stood and shouted in protest at Donald Trump during his 2024 joint address to Congress, wagging his gold-capped cane while his fellow Democrats twiddled on their phones and went mute; who was escorted out of the House chamber minutes Trump’s 2026 State of the Union address for holding a sign reading, “Black people aren’t apes!”, a reference to an AI-generated video Trump posted that depicted the Obamas as apes. Poll after poll has shown that Democrats want their electeds to fight harder. Was this not fighting? Al Green, the former president of the Houston NAACP, who saber-rattled about impeachment in 2017—who actually filed articles of impeachment in July 2019, months before his fellow Democrats would join him. The congressman once confronted Jamie Dimon, CEO of JPMorgan Chase, about his company’s historic ties to slavery. Are you not entertained?

If you ask Green, it isn’t the age difference. In fact, to say as much is, per his office, “ageism.” On January 18, days after Houston Chronicle columnist Joy Sewing wrote that “people are ready for a new generation of leadership,” Green posted a video to Facebook: “I think that the Chronicle quite frankly needs new leadership,” he said, before ripping the newspaper into pieces. But the Chronicle wasn’t the only rag in the laundry bin. Politico called the race a “generational fight,” while The Texas Tribune said it was shaped in part by “the thorny politics of age and seniority.” The New York Times called it “an example of the generational clashes in Democratic primary contests.” Now, the historically Black district—formerly home to civil rights icon Barbara Jordan—might fall into the hands of a 37-year-old for the first time since, well, Barbara Jordan. (The youngest representative to lead the district, at least within the past 50 years, remains Mickey Leland, who assumed office at age 35 in 1979.)

Right now, Houston-area politics is looking decidedly old. Mayor John Whitmire, age 76, already announced he’s running for reelection in 2028. Annise Parker, the former mayor and current frontrunner to replace Lina Hidalgo as Harris County Judge, is 69. The median age of its city council is roughly 55—two years older than that of Dallas, eight years older than that of Austin, and a whopping 20 years older than that of Houston’s median resident. 

But no congressional district in the nation has faced the bitter consequences of gerontocracy quite like Texas’ 18th. First, the Houston institution, Congresswoman Sheila Jackson Lee, who died of cancer in July 2024 at the age of 74, a year into her 15th term. Next, after a special election, former Houston Mayor Sylvester Turner, age 70, took over the seat. He died just two months into his term. For months and months, Governor Greg Abbott delayed calling a special election to fill the seat—which so happened to help maintain the Republicans’ slim majority in the U.S. House. Then this summer, at Trump’s request and on Abbott’s orders, the Texas Legislature convened in a special session to redraw the state’s congressional maps to add five more GOP-leaning districts. Green’s 9th Congressional District—a majority Black and Hispanic seat—was a direct casualty of the gerrymandering, as it was reconstituted as a red district largely outside of Houston. The 18th lost some of its core territory while absorbing parts of the 9th as well.

For 332 days, residents lacked representation. That left “a wound” among voters, Durrell Douglas, a Houston organizer born and raised in the district, told the Texas Observer. Even Mike Doyle, chair of the Harris County Democratic Party, told Houston Public Media that “anybody who’s looking at the race is obviously legitimately concerned about … we can’t go through this again.” Having won late January’s special election against Amanda Edwards with nearly 70 percent of the vote, Menefee is technically the incumbent. And while Green has correctly pointed out that he didn’t move to a new congressional district, the district swallowed him, Douglas said that he and the rest of the 18th made themselves “overwhelmingly” clear when they voted for Menefee a couple weeks ago. “It’s like, pull a Lloyd Doggett and step aside,” he said, referring to the veteran Austin congressman who, following Republicans’ redistricting, gave up his seat for 36-year-old Greg Casar. 

Christian Menefee may not have been buying real estate as a fetus, but he certainly came of age amid the McMansion boom that, like the show “MTV Cribs,” came crashing down post-2008. (At the time, Menefee was a cashier at HEB.) Late last September, his campaign alluded to the cult-favorite TV series in a commercial, the camera zipping around Menefee’s Tuscan-style suburban home, presenting phrases like “Sued Trump” and “Sued Ken Paxton” in gold-bling pastiche while he spars with a punching bag in the garage. 

Menefee, like Green, wants us to know he’s a fighter. He may not have the traditionally influential endorsements Green has accrued—from Harris County Commissioner Rodney Ellis, age 71, one of the main progressive power brokers in town, to longtime California Congresswoman Maxine Waters, age 87—but he’s taken on heavyweight Republicans, “and won,” he says in the commercial. Among Menefee’s endorsements are members of the comparatively youthful wing of Houston politics. 

(Neither Menefee nor Green’s offices responded to multiple requests for comment.)

Before Menefee won the Harris County Attorney’s seat in 2020, the office was a sleepy afterthought, second fiddle to the District Attorney’s office. Where his predecessor, the Democrat Vince Ryan, politely quibbled with Attorney General Ken Paxton—such as in a lawsuit against Volkswagen for skirting diesel emissions limits—Menefee took him to task, defeating him before the Texas Supreme Court in 2022 to ensure all votes in Harris County were counted.  Both candidates are “speaking to the reality of the moment that we’re living in now,” said Rain Eatmon, leader of an advocacy group in Houston’s Acres Homes. But, once again, the fresh air that Menefee brings really renews a sense of hope, because not only is he closer to the ground, but he’s also closer to the moment.”

One need only view the two candidates’ online policy pages to understand what she means. Where Menefee cites specific problems within the district—“vacant lots, crumbling infrastructure, and a lack of basic necessities like grocery stores”—and advocates for specific positions such as Medicare for All, Green’s page is comparatively vague. He repeatedly assures readers he will “continue to” make efforts for “Immigration” and “Housing,” but specific bills, let alone specific ideas beyond opposing cuts to our already shredded social safety net? No dice. And not to discount Green’s accomplishments on the Homeland Security and Oversight committees, or the money he’s allocated to his district, but since 2007, he’s been the primary sponsor of just four bills. 

Juli McShay, a local professor and Houston organizer, put it bluntly: “As of late, the way Green has come off as a fighter has been more performative.” Corisha Rogers, 32-year-old co-founder of the Houston Progressive Caucus—which spearheaded the effort to bar John Whitmire from ever again receiving the Harris County Democratic Party’s endorsement—concurred. “We have a lot of performative candidates right now,” she said. “That’s what we want to change.”

Which is why, despite the favorable polling for Menefee, Rogers reminds me, “They’re not Election Day numbers.” 

For one thing, older voters still rule the day in Texas, especially in primaries. Green’s biggest asset is his experience—as Eatmon told me, he’s remembered as “a light in the darkness” through the desegregation years—but his experience may also be his Achilles’ heel. The prevailing feeling of the day is that the country wouldn’t be in this mess if these septuagenarian politicians actually knew what they were doing, and that they’ve failed to pass the reins. Meanwhile, Menefee can authentically campaign on what he terms “affordability” because he lived it—from his helm at the cash register—in a way that those like Green (who were insulated from the worst of the Great Recession) simply didn’t. 

Instead, Green is pushing hard on Menefee’s connection to the crypto lobby. In an impromptu 19-minute press conference on February 13, Green proclaimed: “We cannot allow the crypto industry to own Congress! Mr. Menefee didn’t know what he was doing when he signed on with them.” 

Is it an obvious line of attack? Sure, but it’s not one without merit. 

More than 60 percent of the country believes cryptocurrency is neither safe nor reliable. I’d bet most came to that conclusion merely by using their eyes, watching plain-as-day corruption as Trump and his allies exchange decentralized assets like notes in a classroom. Meanwhile, residents of countless municipalities, from Minneapolis to San Marcos, have organized against the recent boom in data centers—upon which crypto miners and AI titans rely. 

Yet Menefee, on his policy page, says the blockchain offers “the potential to increase trust, transparency, and efficiency—from finance to supply chains,” later offering a conciliatory promise to “protect consumers” and “support innovation.” It’s a rare disconnect for a politician elsewhere so adeptly tapping into voters’ presentiments. 

I asked Durrell Douglas, born and raised in the 18th, if he thought this line of attack might harm him among voters. “My mother is a 59-year-old black woman—she’s your median CD-18 voter,” he said. “She doesn’t know what crypto is.”

The post A New Age for Houston Politics?  appeared first on The Texas Observer.

By the time Ken Paxton finally leaves behind the eighth floor of the Price Daniel Sr. State Office Building, where the attorney general’s executive team works, he’ll have spent 12 years as what occupants of his office like to consider Texas’ top law enforcement official. Those dozen years—tied with his predecessor, Greg Abbott, for the longest AG stint in state history—were fought and clawed for, through incessant turmoil and scandal, by the former probate attorney from McKinney. 

And Paxton’s tenure has also been filled with lots, and lots, of travel—across Texas, namely to his homebase in Collin County; all around the United States; and, increasingly, to exotic destinations abroad. 

It’s not readily apparent who has covered the costs of the attorney general’s travels. Some of these trips appear to have been connected to his official work as AG, while others have been for political or personal purposes. But accompanying Paxton on most of these trips has been a state police security detail, a perk that comes along with serving as governor, lieutenant governor, or AG. And the Texas Department of Public Safety (DPS) is, by law, required to report the quarterly expenses incurred by the state police providing security for these top officials, broken down by destination and the correlating expense of travel, food, fuel, and lodging—providing one window onto taxpayer costs. 

Since first entering office in January 2015 and up through August 2025, the most recent reporting available, Paxton’s security detail has cost a total of about $2.8 million, those DPS records obtained by the Texas Observer show. The annual cost of his security detail clocked in at an average of $245,000 a year—but the costs have steadily ticked up in recent years. At the peak, in 2024, it cost DPS nearly $500,000 to accompany Paxton on his travels. 

The details about the trips are relatively limited; for instance, DPS doesn’t provide specific dates of travel beyond the month, nor the number of officers who are present on each trip. But the reporting does provide perhaps the most readily available way to track where Texas’ most powerful politicians have been. That’s a valuable tool for public transparency, especially for someone like Paxton, who is notorious for shielding details about his activities and correspondence from the public. 

“If you look at his treatment of the office, he tends to just use his public platform for a lot of political grandstanding,” Adrian Shelley, director of Public Citizen Texas, told the Observer. “There are a lot of things that he does that suggest that he doesn’t have a whole lot of respect for the office, that he don’t have a lot of interest or concern about appropriate use of taxpayer resources, and that he is willing to use both the office and the state resources for reasons that go beyond the strict performance of his duties.” 

Collectively, what the DPS reports show for Paxton is that over his more-than-decade-long tenure, his security detail has racked up a considerable tab protecting him during his travels. 

In total, Paxton’s security detail racked up $965,000 in lodging costs since 2015, $835,000 in travel, $526,000 in food, $24,000 in fuel, and $352,000 in other unspecified expenses.

Over the course of his tenure, Paxton made 100 trips to Frisco, 59 to his hometown of McKinney, 44 to Plano, and 35 to Allen, according to the DPS reports. (Paxton was known, especially in his earliest years, to frequently work from his North Texas home.) Outside of Texas, Paxton has most frequently traveled to Washington, D.C., along with Florida (total spent $220,000), California ($181,000), and Utah ($107,000). 

By comparison, Governor Greg Abbott’s security travel costs are greater—just over $5 million over that same time—as he routinely travels abroad to promote Texas economic development in places including India, Japan, and Israel.

But Lieutenant Governor Dan Patrick’s security travel costs are comparatively austere—at just $1.2 million, with most trips being in-state. 

So, what accounts for Paxton’s extensive gallivanting? 

Some of Paxton’s travels are linked to attendance of national attorney general meetings, specifically with the Republican Attorneys General Association (RAGA), the Attorney General Alliance (AGA), and the National Association of Attorneys General. These sorts of conferences and junkets are typically attended by state attorneys general from around the country and are often also financed by private corporate interests. 

In December 2023, Paxton travelled with security to South Africa, a trip which aligned with a luxury junket that the AGA was hosting at the same time. As CNN reported, “The trip featured a safari, a stay at a five-star hotel … as well as wine tours and gourmet dinners at restaurants that serve fresh prawns and Wagyu ribeye steak.” Lobbyists and lawyers for major corporations including Amazon, Uber, and Pfizer were reportedly also in attendance. Per CNN, Paxton was among the state AGs on the invite list. The high-end trip cost DPS more than $80,000.

A few months later, in February 2024, Paxton and his security detail went to Big Sky, Montana, which lined up with RAGA’s “Victory Fund Ski Retreat” (DPS’ bill: $11,927). A trip to Orlando in March 2024 cost DPS nearly $19,000. Weeks later, a trip to Pinehurst, North Carolina, for a RAGA golf retreat cost around $8,000. Then, in May 2024, photos show that Paxton attended the Kentucky Derby in Lexington; DPS records show a trip costing $13,000 to the same destination that month. 

Paxton has also traveled extensively across Europe. 

In the summer of 2022, he and his wife Angela Paxton went on a weekslong trip across Europe, with a security detail, that included Malta, Italy, and Albania. It also included a visit to the Balkan nation of Kosovo to help promote a company that his associate was running, and for which Angela Paxton served on the board of directors. The total DPS security cost of that trip totaled around $80,000. 

In March 2023, he traveled to Helsinki, Finland; Krakow, Poland; Prague, Czech Republic; and Tel Aviv, Israel. Those extensive travels cost his security detail nearly $180,000 that month—with almost $70,000 just on the Israel leg. According to a Facebook post by the Jewish Community Center of Krakow, which featured a photo showing Paxton, the AGA had organized the trip to Poland and Israel to learn about antisemitism. 

Another European trip included a May 2023 jaunt to Budapest for a conservative political conference in Hungary where Paxton was listed as a speaker (cost: $9,200). 

“Traveling around the globe … on the taxpayer’s expense, [on] these truly extravagant trips that are costing tens of thousands of dollars a go—I don’t think anybody would agree that that’s in the public’s interest,” said Shelley. “His role is the chief law enforcement officer of the state. The vast majority of his concerns are going to be right here in Texas.”

The full scope and nature of Paxton’s travel during his AG tenure is not known. The right-wing conservative is notoriously secretive, and the DPS security travel reports don’t capture all of his travels. For instance, Paxton reportedly traveled to China for a luxurious AGA policy junket back in the fall of 2019, against the advice of his top deputies, who were concerned about security exposure, but no such trip appeared in DPS reports. Nor did his trip to Qatar in December 2022 to watch the World Cup, which the Associated Press uncovered in 2023. That same month, DPS did disclose a trip to the resort town of San José de Cabo, in Mexico, in December 2022 where his security detail racked up a cost of $20,000—including about $9,000 for food alone—and an $18,000 trip to Walnut Creek, California. 

The security costs do not reveal who covered other costs associated with the AG’s travel, but annual personal financial disclosures—along with those of state Senator Angela Paxton, with whom he is in divorce proceedings—have shown tens of thousands of dollars worth of “gifts” in the form of transportation, meals, and lodging from both the AGA, RAGA, and the Rule of Law Defense Fund, which is affiliated with RAGA. 

Paxton’s campaign did not respond to the Observer’s request for comment, nor did the Texas Attorney General’s Office. 

Paxton reportedly has a reputation for fully enjoying the luxuries that can come with his powerful office. “He always cared about what trip he was going on, who was taking him to dinner,” said Blake Brickman, one of his former top deputies who became an FBI whistleblower accusing Paxton of engaging in bribery and abuse of power, according to records from Paxton’s impeachment trial. “He likes the perks of the office.” 

Now, Paxton is in the middle of a hotly contested primary with longtime incumbent U.S. Senator John Cornyn and Houston-area Congressman Wesley Hunt. Paxton formally launched his campaign bid last April, promising to take a “sledgehammer” to the Washington swamp. 

That same month, he went to Augusta, Georgia, home to the renowned PGA golf course, during which lodging costs ran up to $17,000. Around that same time, he racked up a DPS security cost of $18,000 travelling to Palm Beach (home to Trump’s Mar-a-Lago), and he also made time for a jaunt to none other than Washington, D.C.—cost $17,000.

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