...grow up to be cowboys... They’ll never
stay home and they’re always alone... even with someone they love. Country
music the way country music should be, truth set to a tune you can whistle, how
could it not be a hit? Of course it was,
still is, probably always will be. That’s
pretty much what makes country music country, a truth that ain’t gonna change
so you might just as well sing along and get used to livin’ with it.
Am I a cowboy? Not really, not anymore. Was at one time for a time, sort of. But not so much anymore. I’m not, but she is. It’s soul deep in her, a barrel racer with five
saddles and thirteen belt buckles and a horse she probably loves more than the
last three boys she took to her bed. She’s
cowboy, the song fits her perfectly. Don’t
give me any damn libber crap about gender either, she... is a cowboy in all the
ways that matter and them that love her just have to understand. And I do, I’ve still got enough genuine cowboy
in my soul to understand. Via con dios
sweetheart.
Keeping company with
her was good for me. Like I said, for a
time I was cowboy, it’s my heritage: a daddy and two uncles who rode saddle
bronc and roped, one crazy uncle who rode bulls, a family that at one time had
give or take five thousand head of cattle on open range in southern Idaho. She reminded me of where I come from, the
things I learned there and then that built the foundations of who I am now. Some of ‘em had been getting a little dim
with the years, seeing them afresh was good for me. Don’t think she meant to, doubt she knew she
was doing it, but she brought those days back to me, let me look at what could
have, would have, been my life turn north instead of south fifty years
ago. But that’s just what a good woman
does for you, bottom line... her being her shows clear the you ya’ really
are... good women do share a lot with good music... truth that don’t change, you know? Good women, real women, the kind who might
only look at you once a day and you know what’s all wrong will be alright... but
that ain’t Waylon, that’s Neil and a different song entirely, except... for
some reason Kentucky is on my mind, has been on my mind and she put it
there. Kentucky ... what do I know about Kentucky ?
Not a damn thing.
Despite growing up on a ranch, I never could have been a cowboy in the real sense; I was a skinny intellectual growing up among husky ranch kids. But I think I get "cowboy." In some ways, being a minstrel (as I often consider myself) is similar: you go around the land, speaking truth as you see it, never bound (as farmers and ranchers are but true cowboys aren't) to one patch of ground but going where the work is... And a good woman can be like a mirror in the sense you describe, or give you a glimpse of roads you might take, or might have taken, or might still take. I think we can be that for some women too; I seem to have been that for several, not really by my doing but simply because I was there for them.
ReplyDeleteThere are true cowboy's and there are want to be cowboy's, I'm a cowgirl or cowboy heart and soul. I can get dirty, I don't care what others think of me. I am who I am like me or not. I would help the world if I could, but know that I can't... Cowboy you are in more way's then you think.. You will always be a cowboy at heart, not always at soul. You can find it in your soul when you are ready to find it.... jochanaan you are right....
ReplyDeleteKentucky is a change that you need in your life....
DeleteReminds me of a poem by Baxter Black, titled "Occupation: Cowboy":
ReplyDelete"Somebody said, YOU A COWBOY?
I said, I reckon it's so.
WELL, WHERE'S ALL YOUR SPURS AND YOUR FEATHERY HAT?
AND HOW COME YOUR SADDLE'S SO OLD?
I SEEN A COWBOY IN NASHVILLE!
HE SURE LOOKED TO ME TO BE LIVE.
HIS HAT WAS BEAT UP BUT THE FEATHERS WAS NEW,
AND HIS PICKUP WAS FOUR-WHEEL-DRIVE!
HIS BOOTS WERE SILVER AND TURQUOISE!
HIS BUCKLE SAID, DRINK LONE STAR BEER!
I ASKED IF HE RODE THE MECHANICAL BULL.
OF COURSE! he said, WITHOUT FEAR!
I stopped this inquirin' stranger,
And to ignorance chalked up his talk.
He didn't have no more idea in hell
Whether cows could fly or could walk.
I said, Mister if you want to find out
Who's cowboy and who's playin' games,
Read 'Occupation' on my IRS form.
Sometimes a man ain't all he claims."
(capitals in original)