Nadacowboy

I am not a cowboy, though I wear a cowboy hat and the boots I wear have pointed toes and heels that ain’t near flat. I want to be a cowboy, but I’m stopped by one condition I just can’t get a handle on those cowboy definitions. When you say Chaps, I think cologne, and that’s not all, there’s more a Quarter Horse is what kids ride outside the K-Mart store A Bull is the just first part of an expletive deleted and Pony’s just a little keg of beer, too soon depleted. I’m not sure what a Cayuse is, but, it’s my recollection that the Spurs play basketball and Red Eye’s an infection. No, I am not a cowboy, and I guess that’s clear to you but, I read books by Cowboy Poets to find out what to do. How I should walk, how I should talk, and even how to spit. When to drink and when to eat and when to take a sit- down with some pardners, play some cards and chew the fat about the Dallas Cowboys and topics such as that. A fella told me “get a horse”, that’s the thing that I should do. So, I got a little pinto, but the body rusted through. I used to have Colt 45’s.I’d drink some every day now, the Saddlebags it gave me just won’t go away. Round up kills weeds, I know because I use it now and then. When you say stirrups, all I think is O-B-G-Y-N. Yeah, I want to be a cowboy, wearin’ jeans and denim shirts and dance that Texas Two Step till my old doggies hurt. I’ll eat my Texas Chili hot, washed down with Lone Star Beer. I’ll vacation at a Dude Ranch and maybe milk myself a steer. No, I am not a cowboy, but I think that I could be once I get a handle on the terminology. Jeff Hildebrandt © 1999