Sunday, January 10, 2016

There is something about cowboys

 coming up on one of the cable channels. I might check it out.

The cowboy is one thing that is strictly American. I suppose there are people all over the world that work with cows. The word 'gaucho' comes to mind and I may be wrong but a gaucho is and Argentine equivilent of some sort.

Still, the cowboy as depicted in American western movies is a 100% American thing.

I dressed like one many years ago when I visited Europe. Pro tip: The Brits will love you and buy you a beer. French customs will go through your stuff looking for a six-gun.

If you decide to dress this way don't forget to put a can of snoose in your back pocket along with a bag of Bull Durham in your shirt pocket. Let the string with the tag hang out of your shirt pocket. The devil is in the details.

I suppose I have posted this before but I do have a hard time picturing a western movie being made other than in the American west. You can use parts of Italy or Spain to film it in but it does have to be about the American west.

It cetainly won't do using Paris or Tokyo as a backdrop as it would be pretty hard to picture someone like John Chisum la John Wayne stampeding a herd of cattle through the streets of Paris.

Then again, I suppose Mel Brooks could do this and have us rolling on the floor. Of course, Mel Brooks can get away with anything just because of who he is but I digress. Mel is Mel and that's just the way it is.

Still, there is nothing in the world like the image of the American cowboy although in reality the cowboy as we know it is pretty much a Hollywood creation.

I worked briefly as a cowboy and my experience is that it was a pretty poor paying job of nothing but hard work. I didn't wear a six-gun or ride around on a spirited horse. It was nothing like what you see on the silver screen.

Instead of a horse I was issued a rusty unregistered pickup. My six-gun was an old surplus .45 that banged around on the floor. I did, however, wear blue jeans but they were pretty raggedy. My hat was pretty nasty, too.

I never did get into a shoot-out and the couple of rattlesnakes I killed I beheaded with a shovel. Needless to say, I didn't stay a cowboy for very long.

Of course, a few decades later when I mention that I was once a cowboy everyone assumes I rode around on horseback roping cows or riding bulls in a rodeo. I'll admit, I never correct them.

Anyway, if I find the time I think I'll check the cowboy special out on the cable channel for a few yuks.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

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