The County Fair and Rodeo was in town this past week.
It doesn’t matter if you live in a teeny tiny town or a city the size of New York, when the rodeo comes to town, people do funny things.
You see, there are those people who are honest to goodness “rodeo” kind of people. The kind whose kids raise hogs for the fair (and they think it’s fun) and own lots of boots. You know, workin’ boots, ridin’ boots, ropin’ boots, dancin’ boots, and weddin’ boots.
Then there are the ones who try really hard to look like rodeo people, but you can pick ’em out a mile away.
Their boots are either brand new, or after five years still aren’t broken in. The women are wearing red bandanas around their necks or tied around their ponytails.
The real ones walk with a swagger. The others loop their fingers into their belt loops and try to imitate “the walk” but end up looking like their brand new Wranglers are just too tight.
The real ones have cowboy hats that have seen better days. The others got one for Christmas maybe seven years ago and it still looks brand new.
The real ones all have two names. “Ray” is a common middle name for the guys, “Jean” for women. Billy Ray, Bobby Ray, Donnie Ray, Joe Ray. Billie Jean, Bobbi Jean, Sarah Jean, Carol Jean. My husband has recently taken to calling me “Sarah Jean” and now all his friends are also calling me “Sarah Jean”. If you see him, do me a favor and call him “Ricky Ray”.
The real ones say things like “howdy” (it comes out more like “hi-dee”) and mean it. If I say “howdy” it sounds stupid. They have great manners and are always calling me “ma’am” and saying stuff like “Pleasure to meetcha.” They tip their hats to say hello, goodbye, thank you, or “I think you’re cute.”
When they say “dogie”, they mean a calf, not a puppy. When people like me point and say, “Look at the baby cows!” they just shake their heads.
That’s a whole ‘nother topic. To me they’re all cows, because that’s what my mom and my alphabet book taught me when I was young. “C” was for cow. It was never “C” is for cattle. You also never saw “S” is for steer. When we drove past a field of them, my mom would say, “Look at the cows.” It wasn’t “Look at the cattle” or “Look at that … 5 steers, 5 cows and 5 calves!” No, it was just “Look at the cows.”
Real rodeo people can look across a field and tell what’s what. I would need to be very close and lift their legs. It’s easier to just call them cows and have the cowboys laugh at me.
Well, this is Sarah Jean signin’ off, plannin’ to have a plum good time at that there rodeo tonight. Gotta go see if I can find them boots and bandanas in the top of the closet. Gonna go see them dogies and steers and bulls and say “hi-dee” to everyone I see.
You take care, now, hear?
