He really is a cowboy.
Not just a straw hat, cowboy boot, teeny bopper shirt-ish made to look western wearin’ wanna be like many of us know and sometimes are. But a real cowboy.
Like, hangs out with other cowboys. Can rope a steer. Fast. Shoes horses for a living. Grew up on a ranch. Makes a big belt buckle look really good. Can train your horse, all around cowboy.
Someone, actually a close friend who read the blog for the first time, asked the other night who the Cowboy is. Like, is he real? Is it your ex? Is he fictitious? (I obviously have not seen this friend in awhile.) But even people I work with who haven’t met the Cowboy yet I’m pretty sure believe he’s a figment of my imagination.
Actually .. any man that has swept me off my feet like this guy and actually kept me interested and happy .. for longer than one date (if they got even that far), they probably think is fictitious. I’ve been pretty jaded .. and, guarded for what seems now, a very long time. Waiting for the right person to come along. Especially because I want to do everything I can to not only protect my own heart after several healthy doses of loss and unhealthy relationships.. but that of my daughters.
But he does exist…
And I don’t know that in the blog, I’ve properly introduced him… If you can actually do that with a person who you will most likely never get to look in the eye, at least here in blog world. Which I’m still learning. Real world, he will absolutely connect with you in person. Eye to eye. And a smile.
There are questions I get asked often. And that the Cowboy does as well, when we’re out and about and I introduce him to anyone new.
Usually, when any of us, ever first meets someone for the first time we say the standard, Hey, nice to meet you. And then inadvertently it’s followed up by .. So, what do you do?
“I’m a farrier,” he Cowboy answers.
(Well sometimes that’s what he says. He does a lot of things where horses are concerned. Trains. Ropes. But usually, he answers, farrier.)
Cowboys and people that know anything about horses then go about talking about cowboy things. I think.
More often then not though, my non-horse owning/only ever been to South Dakota or out west to see Mount Rushmore or go skiing at some swanky Rocky Mountain resort, who freely say things like ‘lasso’ (see previous post about why this totally outs you as a greenhorn) and like to wear cowboy boots just because they look good friends will say, “A what?”
As he goes on to explain .. they say, “So, you’re a real cowboy?”
Yep. He is.
It is a way of life those who live it, love. Anyone that would call themselves a real cowboy I have ever had the pleasure to know, talk with or read about, will tell you, it’s a hard way of life. Or can be. But that they wouldn’t have it any other way.
Then there are those who love what it stands for, but aren’t sure they could ever give up the creature comforts of the non-cowboy way of life. So they appreciate it from a distance.
Many do. Appreciate it that is, from a distance. In fact, they appreciate it so much, marketing to the non-cowboys who want to be like, look like or pretend they’re a real cowboy is big business anymore. I think. I can’t find any statistics. I tried for awhile here and turned up little to nothing concrete. By the way, have you googled western way of life? Cowboy economy? Not what I was expecting. All it brings up are boot companies. And some other really entertaining, if not frightening things.
I tried to explain to a friend awhile ago, a business idea a few of us have. One we believe would totally fly with those who have a love for the western way of life. He said, “Well, for arguments sake, who does that appeal to?” I replied, “A lot of people.” He said, “Prove it. Monetize it. You want someone to back it, show me it’ll make money.”
I wanted to start by saying, I can add up the number of girlfriends I have who are single and have asked if the Cowboy has any single friends .. and if I might ‘help them find a cowboy.’ And then take him to my own closet full of boots, the first pair of which I bought myself when I was 17 .. a pair of Justins, http://www.justinboots.com/en/ and say, let’s just take even one percent of the US female population and assume they have the same if not more cowboy/girl (my pc self coming out there) boots than I do. Because I’m pretty sure millions of others have me beat on the boot count .. and say, “There’s your proof. That’s just one woman’s closet. How’s that for your indicator.” Then walk off triumphantly.
But I know he was doing it for my own benefit. Plus, his wife has far more boots than I do so he’s aware. He just wants me to be fully prepared to defend my idea.
I digress ..
The whole point of this was to say, he’s real. The Cowboy is not a figment of my imagination. Or .. my own ex. Who loves the west, but not being a cowboy. He wants to be a mountaineer. I think that’s still the case. That’s a whole other story.
(Mountaineering, by the way, has been far better documented it appears, http://tinyurl.com/6porksg in regard to economic impact than the Cowboy industry. What gives.)
“So, how did you two meet?”
The above is almost always the second question. Or, close to like, the fifteenth because its always after the barrage of questions about being a cowboy. Once though they realize he’s a cowboy there .. and I’m living in a tiny 2 bedroom apartment in the middle of a small city nowhere near the great plains of South Dakota, that is what pops out of many a mouth.
It’s a great story. I shall tell it. Perhaps tomorrow.