Category: Horses

A Horse of Gold……

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gold piece 3

This is the story of a horse. A very special horse..

Now if you follow my blog then you know here at Betty’s house we ride horses competitively (cutting horses, gymkhana) and for fun (trail riding, etc.). Nothing brings our family greater satisfaction than introducing a child to the joys of riding horses. The feeling of freedom so many never experience in a lifetime that comes from loping in an arena aboard a 1500 pound animal.

But it wasn’t always that way here at our ranch.  There was a time when if I never saw another horse again it would be too soon.  Growing up on a horse ranch as a child, I had my fill of horses and the chores that went along with raising these four-legged beasts. I never understood why they came before us children? My self-centered life revolved around much more important things than feeding and watering them twice a day.  It was always an inconvenience for me and I was a sniveling pain in the ass to my parents.

Why?

Simply put, I was too young and self-absorbed to realize these chores equated to valuable life lessons instilled by my parents.  Lessons that would form who I became, as life away from home molded me into the man I am today.  Animals have a way of inadvertently teaching, by forcing you to learn responsibility, punctuality, empathy, kindness, courage and patience.  I learned all these important traits from begrudgingly taking care of horses and sheep on our ranch.

So what does this have to do with a story about a horse?

When I left home, animals had left a bad taste in my mouth. I swore to the heavens above I would never, ever own a horse again.  As a young adult I worked with a few horses on a dairy and would ride them any chance I could while hanging out with friends. My skills were average but I could hold my own using lessons taught by my mother.  The reality? I never was looking to head down the old equine trail ever again.  You see all those years of watching my parents struggle to make ends meet while raising, training, showing and riding horses combined with the responsibility of feeding, watering and caring for these creatures left me feeling very strongly in regards to never owning a horse.

When I was a teenager my parents dissolved the horse business, selling off all their animals, taking jobs in town and soon purchasing and raising ostriches for meat. No more horses! Hurray! Life seemed pretty good.

Then one day my dad purchased a horse named Gold Piece.  He was—–Gold—– I know hard to believe huh? He was a Tennessee walker.

The Tennessee Walker or Tennessee Walking Horse is a breed of riding horse. Originally bred in the Southern United States to carry the owners of plantations around their lands,[1] this breed is known for their unique four-beat “running walk.” The breed is rarely seen in any of the sport horse disciplines; however, they are popular in trail riding because of their smooth gait, stamina and easy temper. They are also seen in Western riding disciplines and in harness. –Wikipedia—

Gold Piece was a tall horse with a wonderful gate, he was friendly enough and my father adored him.  My parents built him a fine paddock at their home and Gold Piece quickly became my father’s four legged friend.  There doesn’t seem to be a recollection of my father ever riding Gold Piece although my mother claims she has been atop this steed.  For years Gold Piece just roamed his little 3 acre patch coming in to eat in the morning and talk with my dad (as dad puts it) repeating the same schedule of events in the  evening.

I never understood why someone would own a horse without riding it. Horses to me at the time werent pets, but livestock and should have been used as such. It’s in the animals best interest to be worked and exercised everyday, used to their potential.  So needless to say it bothered me that this horse just walked around, eating his way through my parents finances.  (Complete self-absorption huh?)

My parents eventually sold their home and moved onto our ranch, Gold Piece in tow, allowing them to ease their financial burdens while growing older.  We made a home for the horse and before long seeing him out there ignited a passion inside our children. We acquired a few horses (against my better judgment) and all my children began to ride.  My wife took the lead as her love for all animals carried over into caring for these creatures as well.  All the while Gold Piece just stared blankly from his paddock while watching us do our thing.  I would go pet him and tell him I was sorry he wasnt being ridden then remind him he was dads and I really didn’t want to cross that line.  During the winter my wife found an affordable arena for us to board our horses so the children could ride out of the rain as our place would turn into a bit of a mud pit.  After a few weeks and some favorable reviews to my parents, Gold Piece soon joined us at my father’s request.  It made dad feel good to know his buddy was out of the weather, and socializing with other horses.  My father had developed some health issues that year which slowed him down a bit; so he dropped by the barn everyday when he felt good, every couple of days when he didn’t, but his horse was always there, head hanging out of the stall, happy to see him. In fact it used to make me chuckle, because I could never figure out how the horse knew my father had arrived on the premises.  But sure enough, trucks would come and go, then when dads truck arrived Gold Pieces head would pop right out and he would start licking his lips in anticipation of the apple/oat cookies my dad always carried in his pocket.

One day while watching the kids ride, I tired of sitting on the sidelines, if my dad wasn’t going to ride this horse well gosh darn it I was! I grabbed a saddle, pulled down his bit, tacked him up and moved off into the arena.  Within fifteen minutes my head was abuzz with all the memories of riding horses at my parents ranch as a kid, with friends while growing up, and on trail rides as a young adult. Gold Piece had reignited a passion I had suppressed for far too long.

This horse, single-handedly or Hoofed as the case may be erased my ignorance, awakened the realization my parents hadn’t been punishing me with all those chores as a kid; he helped me understand what I needed to do as a father with my own children and brought back my need to ride, enjoy the thrill of riding, along with competing against other trained animals working as team towards a common goal.  During his tenure at the barn Gold Piece gave many of our young friends their first rides in the arena and he gave my oldest a reason to ride with his father. Always willing and full of steam Gold Piece would go until the verge of collapse if you asked him too.  (Pretty cool horse.)  My younger children seeing their parents ride this big Gold trotting machine wanted to ride every chance they could.  If it wasn’t for Gold Piece my wife and I wouldn’t have met and made friends with a wonderful group of people that we ride horses with to this very day! He and his stubbornness also introduced me to my “sister from another mister”. For that I am very thankful.

Gold Piece wasn’t always perfect, he challenged me every chance he could, made me earn my way around the arena on more than one occasion and taught me through sheer will to ride again, for that I am very appreciative.  But what he lacked in patience under saddle he more than made up for in personality outside the arena.  He never kicked, bit or pushed his weight around. If you were small he side-stepped out of your way while carefully keeping an eye on you. He always let you pet him and was happy to do so.  The little ones had no problem grooming him and he eased under pressure from the brush, much like a cat would purr at a belly rub.  He was just a good old horse.

Gold Piece passed away today.  My daughter found him down in his stall this morning when she went out to feed. He was close to 30, fighting cancer and we all knew the day was coming. But it didn’t make it any easier. My father is devastated.  As I sit here writing this I believe this horse was probably my father’s last true friend; always there when he needed him, never argued or disagreed with him and listened with nothing but the best of intentions. Nothing is harder than watching your dad cry. My mother is doing her best stiff upper lip imitation as always, but I know deep inside she is hurting as well, not just for herself but for the loss of my father’s dear friend.

A funny thing, for all he taught us he never asked for very much in return. He ate his hay, talked to my dad and went about his daily business like that of a proud Tennessee walker. Upon hearing of his passing, a friend of ours dropped us a note on Facebook that read; I think he (Gold Piece) heard there was a little girl from CT that needed him…..It may sound a little crazy but I looked it up on Yahoo news and it’s true. Little 6-year-old spitfire, Jessica Rekos, one of the 20 children that perished at Sandy Hook Elementary School had desperately wished for a horse and was going to get cowboy boots for Christmas.

Because I believe there is a God, because I believe that everything happens for a reason and because I know that horse would never have left my dad for anything in the world, maybe just maybe it’s possible to believe there was a higher calling and he (Gold Piece) answered that call, meeting up in heaven with a little girl who wanted nothing more than a horse of her own. I could think of no greater comfort for such a little soul, and maybe, just maybe her parents can now rest a little easier. The lord will take wonderful care of her as she rides the heavens above upon her beautiful horse of gold.

Rest In Peace both of you, the fields are endless, you are both safe now, god speed…

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Gold Piece-

12/17/2012

My Words of Wisdom for the Day

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So you want to be successful son?

Well guess what? It’s not something I can give you. Success is not something you can buy. You cannot sit on the sidelines and wait for success to magically arrive at your doorstep!

Success depends on your ability to translate desire into obsession. When you live it, eat it, drink it, dream it, and lose sleep over it, day after day, it’s then and only then obsession will drive you towards becoming successful.

Success has been and always will be, completely up to you.

Love dad

Carry on that is all…

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Art of the lie…

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Art of the lie

I received a very interesting phone message today while traveling down the freeway at 65 mph in a bright green fire engine.  Interesting not with any windfall of knowledge or wealth coming my way. Interesting not in the fact that my wife, who left the message never leaves me messages. (she would rather talk to me personally) No this phone call triggered my curious Spock (Star Trek) one eyebrow lifted facial response for the pure and simple fact it was a lie. 

Now being a parent of four children, teaching the transparency in human nature associated with a lie is of the utmost importance. Nothing brings down fatherly wrath faster than a child caught in a lie.  A reminder that lying brings nothing but ridicule and solitude as no one wishes to be around you is never more prevalent in my household once you have been detained for said infraction. 

But….

There is something to be said about the art of the lie? All lies start out simple enough, the truly gifted can carry them thru lie after lie building upon a story that eventually not even a used car salesmen would buy.  But there are the chosen few, the masters, individuals with special gifts who get it right the first time.  Capturing you with an opening line, reel you in by the lip while never doubting their story for a second! You walk away wowed and in the end, thinking to yourself; I wish my life was as good as that guys! 

These “super liars” have creativity, something so many of us human beings lack these days.  An ability to play out an entire scenario inside their head like a bad romance novel.  Starting at page one the lie is not complete until they have personally closed the imaginary book inside their cranium.  Egomaniacal? Yes! Self centered;? Yes! Able to leave you mesmerized by their charming guiles? Yes! The gifted liar is truly a sight to behold.

Back to the beginning.

After arriving at the hospital to retrieve my crew, I took a moment and withdrew my phone to see who called. Seeing it was in fact my wife I eagerly touched the voicemail button and sat mesmerized as my wife simply stated; So here’s the story, the kids are all running right? And they see a hawk with a kitten in its hand and Cody goes and shoots the hawk out of the air and the kids save the kitten and brought the kitten home. That’s the story…

Thought number one: Cody knows better than to shoot a hawk.

Thought number two: Really the cat lived after falling, how many feet to the ground? Cats have nine lives and I have witnessed my fair share of cats falling from high distances (yes the fire department does get called out for cats in trees, it’s not a myth) but out of the air with nothing to break its fall? Suspicion looms..

Thought number three: Cody is a hell of a shot, but really, a hawk flying away with food trapped in its claws.

Hmmmmm something is definitely afoot.

It turns out our kids found a kitten roaming alongside the road, down the street from our house.  Now since we live in the middle of nowhere, 3/4 of the way down a 2 mile dirt road, odds of it belonging to someone are slim, so our children concocted this farce believing my wife and I would accept the wounded feline, dinner plate survivor into our abode with open arms never once questioning the complexity of their story. 

They were 100% wrooooo—-RIGHT!

After careful discussion, and not wanting to reward a blatant lie, my wife and I chose too privately commend the story telling effort, while publicly reminding the children lying was never acceptable.  Yet the four of them, along with two young family members visiting for the week actually put their heads together thinking about the welfare of this little animal and came up with one fo the best bull pucky stories we had heard in a while from any of their little brains.  Ah the joy of teamwork!

They were outed for the lie, we all laughed heartily at the effort. A true family moment to be remembered and most likely told to grand children someday.

It was only after I hung up the phone, while sitting at my desk waiting for the computer to open up did it dawn on me. 

We just helped them, by awakening their creative story telling skills! It like putting water on a seed once a day, then feeding it tons of sunlight.  Before long it will grow and evolve leading them inevitably to “the art of the lie.”

 

On vacation?

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Vacation.  The feel of sand between your toes, waves crashing upon some forgotten shore, the serenity of being one with your surroundings. Also one with an ice-cold beer..

or

Sweat pouring from your brow as you traverse a narrow trail on a ridgeline at 8000 feet.  The air is crisp and so are your thoughts because at this height you feel closer to heaven.  To your left unparalleled views, to your right a crevasse that would surely scare even the most steadfast of climbers. But up you go, you are living life to the fullest, you have one week of vacation per year that’s all yours and you are living it up! Beaches are for the weak.

or

Really? One more monument to go, man my dogs are barking!  Cant everyone else just go on without me? I know this is the trip of a lifetime, but do we have to use my entire lifetime up right now? Ok I am coming, just one more monument; right?  Then we can go back to the hotel bar and start self medicating this foot pain away!  Never knew I was going to take a week off to walk a thousand miles while sightseeing  our nations tributes to history! What a moron, I wish I was at a beach some where.

Is this what vacation means to you? Does any of this sound familiar or ring true? Well these were actual examples of vacations I have been on in the past.  Times that were special in their own ways.  Moments I will cherish and remember always.

So where did Betty go this past week?  What kind of vacation did I embark upon?  Was it mind-blowing fun, thought-provoking, or calm and relaxing? Nope! It was none of those things at all!  It was hard work, “Survivor” like, mentally taxing and filled with all the challenges a parent could possibly handle!

I went to the fair!  Yep that’s right boys and girls Betty packed up her things, loaded up the kids and all their animals and headed to the fair!  Why you ask?  Well let me enlighten you; here in good old Redneckville USA we take great pride in our animals! Some would even say we love our animals first, family second!  Now hold on a minute it’s not like that you crazy fool! Kids around these parts are all part of a national organization (no not the Nazi youth movement you filthy animal) called 4-H.  In 4-H kids learn about raising animals for commercial markets along with developing breeding programs, ultimately enabling or teaching them the ability to carry on farming.  As kids get older and enter high school many of them join FFA or Future Farmers of America.  With hard work and acquired skills there are endless scholarship possibilities for these young go getter’s.

So we packed up our little 4-Hers, loaded up their animals and headed to the local fair for a week of washing. trimming, showing, and eventually selling their animals at auction.  The kids receive a check for all the hard work which is placed back into the bank to start next years project.  With a little luck and a lot of hard work a kid could have enough money saved by college to pay for a years worth of school.  Throw in a few scholarships and you can plainly see the advantage to this program.

I am the leader of the pig group (insert snort, chuckle here) and we arrived with 6 clean and happy pigs!  They laid around and let thousands of people gaze upon their little snouts.  Our kids from the group did a great job of enticing young ones to step up and pet the pig ( a phrase that means something entirely different in other circles) they also explained how pigs are raised, what they eat, where they sleeps and why they like to cover themselves in mud. The fair always reminds I take for granted my country upbringing as I answer questions from parents and children who have spent their entire lives inside the city limits.  It really is a bubble we place ourselves inside.

Back to the fair…

So the fair.  What can I possibly say about spending my week’s vacation at the fair.  I know I have said this before but I am going to say it again: (old guy moment) In my day the fair didn’t cost you an arm and a leg!  In my day you didn’t need to give blood just to purchase a corn dog!  When I was a kid I could go to the fair with 40 bucks on Monday and be using the last of it on Friday. That is a whole week of rides and corn dogs, cinnamon rolls and soda for $40.00!  Today $40.00 will get you 4 corn dogs and two beers then you better pony up at the ATM so maybe just maybe you might have enough extra cash to buy your way off the grounds.  Got the kids with you, just leave your wallet at the main gate cause your cashing in your IRA’s to pay for this excursion!  $29.00 dollars for a carnival ride wristband! Times that by four and you can see how this trip can rapidly force you to file chapter 11 bankruptcy protection. Speaking of carnival rides, one thing that hasn’t changed over the 37 years I have been going to the local fair is the carnival ride operators or “carnies”.  These toothless gems of salesmanship and lack of hygiene still rule the roost.  Long hair, beards, toothless grins, scrawny beat up demeanor, most looking as though they just popped out of a heroine coma long enough to pull their shift on the Zipper.  What would a carnival area be without them,  and yet we trust our children with their safety.  If you saw any one of these gents strolling down the street you would cross to the other side and not make eye contact.  You would lean over to your kid and whisper “remember when I told you about strange people to stay away from? Theres your example”.  STRANGER DANGER-STRANGER DANGER-STRANGER DANGER!!!!

I am sure Carnies are really nice people deep down inside, heck catch one right between coming down off the coke and mellowing out on some refer and you got yourself a free prized stuffed animal to take home!  Whoop Whoop!! It’s nice to see some things never change…..

Besides the animals, food, and carnival rides our fair still has the charming buildings filled with award-winning arts and crafts.  I have always found other people’s creativity or lack there of, interesting.  There are hog calling contests, horse shows, sheep shows, goat and cattle shows.  Rabbitts, chickens, turkey, and quail.  It really was a great week of people watching, and developing better interpersonal skills.

Definition: I drank beer and bullshitted with other parents for an ungodly amount of time.

The best part of all?

Watching the kids smile, make new friends,  have fun and create memories that will last a lifetime!

 

For the goodtimes…

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The other night I rushed the family from our daughters softball game over to our CPA to sign our taxes. Driving like a madman, hoping to arrive in the nick of time to beat the deadline for an extension, we zipped through city streets like James Bond chasing down an adversary in his shiny Aston Martin. After awhile I found my jaw locked tighter than King Tutts tomb.  My face so frozen like granite that one could bounce a quarter from my forehead.  My shoulders squared off like a New York city parkbench. Tense I guess would be the theme I am going for here? I was just a little tense….

After partaking in the usual pleasantries, we inked our paperwork, then I slithered back into the car deflated, defeated and just plain old mentally exhausted.  I found myself daydreaming of easier times, when I held no responsibilities other than waking up in the morning, carrying out a few chores, and feebly wandering my way through school.  Yeah those were the good times alright! No responsibilities at all…….

It’s amazing how the old adage of “the grass is always greener on the other side” pops to mind right now.  For as I wondered aimlessly through the bright and shiny portions of my past all I could see was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow as opposed to the rock it was sitting upon.  Yet when things aren’t going so well, amazingly I only find garbage when peering under that very same rock.  Our mind has a way of sheltering us from past experiences during some recollections while reminding us of those very same experiences during more emotional times.  Curious, so very curious…

Back to the beginning.

So while driving home during my “pot at the end of the rainbow” period I chose to think of all the things I miss about being a kid.  Yep I was yearning for the old days! Off in the land of the Walltons, Fall Guy and Wendy Peffercorn! No responsibilities at all, just me and my crazy youth! Since I was in dream land I decided to take the quantum leap into the furthest reaches of my mind and come up with a list of all the things I missed about being a kid.  When it was over I carefully narrowed them down to a fair resemblance of a top ten. Here they are…

10. Missile pops.  Nothing was better on a summer’s day than a missile pop, didn’t matter where you were or how you got it. Melty, sticky, ice-cold and delicious! It was awesome! As an adult they just don’t taste the same…

9. Going barefoot.  As a kid you could pretty much get away with being barefoot, whenever you wanted. As an adult now a days people just think you are weird. I still remember how good the grocery store floor felt under my bare feet as a kid.  As an adult it’s just plain gross.

8. My A&A custom made, motocross racing bike.  It was flat black with a little chrome and it was cool.  That bike was the center of my universe. I took the whole thing apart down to the frame then put it back together,  just to prove to myself that I could. I jumped everything I could on that bike. Rode it ten miles to town just so I could cruise around the plaza downtown. I loved it, loved it, loved it!  Shed a tear when at thirty-five I sent the worn out old frame to the recyclers after cleaning up my parents place during their move to a new house.

7.  Summertime. Being allowed to play from sun up till sundown.  Running around our ranch, hanging out with horse trainers and their kids, building forts out of hay, generally just being a kid.

6.  The fair: I saved money all year-long waiting for the fair.  I showed sheep so I was at the fairgrounds from sun-up till sundown all week-long.  The money wasnt for rides, or cotton candy or even to play those stupid carnival games.  Oh no!  The money I saved was for one thing and one thing only!  CORNDOGS!  I ate them for breakfast, lunch and dinner for a week straight! They were my drug of choice and baby I couldn’t get enough! Just the smell sent me into drooling fits of hunger! Even now, I just drooled a little on the keyboard.

5.  Swim practice:  This was a true love hate relationship which is why its number five.  I loved swim practice, because everyday I was guaranteed to see my friends for a least an hour and a half.  Plus being a young lad rolling into puberty it was always an hour of prepubescent giggles between my friends and I as we watched the cute girls walk by in their shimmering one piece swimsuits! The hate part revolved solely around the hard work encompassed in practice itself.  It was long, grueling and tiring. Although I never complained when we practiced in the rain, I always found those practices to be the most interesting.  Something strange about being wet in the pool while more water flows onto you from the clouds above.

4. Summer camp: Oh yeah, friends, swimming, hiking, snipe hunts, marshmallows and a week away from chores, my parents and my sister. Enough said….

3.  Hot Wheels: The sole reason for my fascination with all makes and models of automobiles to this day.  British, Russian, Croatian, American, German, Bavarian, I love them all.  If you have created or plan on creating an automobile I have either read about you, salivated over your creations or just plain envied you.  I am the guy who can find at least one redeeming quality on even the worst made machine.  I am always looking to understand the vision of a designer.  I cherished American Muscle as a youth and still do to this day.  I also am a big fan of German engineering and British ingenuity.  But at the end of the day I owned more hot wheels as a kid that revolved around two cars and two cars only.  The American made Corvette and the German-made Porsche.  Go fast straight and hang on g-force in the turns.  I love them both! I have owned a Corvette and can’t wait until the day comes when my cob-web filled bank account opens its doors allowing me the privilege of wrapping my poor fingers around the steering wheel of a 911.  Preferably a GT2-RS.  One can only dream.

2. Sunday night fried chicken dinners! We ate until we popped and it was always great.  No one can have a bad day after eating moms fried chicken.  It was fantastic. Heck, really its about more than fried chicken. It’s about being able to eat anything at anytime without worrying about cholesterol, fat content, how many grams of protein or what my total caloric intake was for the day. Take that BMI!

1.  Playing basketball with my dad.  I know it will never happen again. I know it was only for a very short period of time, yet it remains one of the things I miss most about being a kid. Just the two of us, no sister, no mom, just us, laughing and having a good time..

Now I am sure at least one of you out there is saying to themselves; What about the lack of responsibility as a child?  With the lead in you gave isn’t that what you were searching for?  In reality I had tons of responsibility.  More than most kids I am sure.  We lived on a working ranch and my day was pretty full with chores that revolved around the welfare and care of animals.  I learned  a lot about responsibility as a child and I am doing my best to pass those traits on to my children.  Oh, I am sure my parents would argue I was lazy and self-centered.  A chore shirker who had to be begged and harassed into completing his work.  But at the end of the day, my chores were always done and I went to bed exhausted.  Somedays I even took to counting the minutes until I could lay down upon my pillow and shut down the machine.

So in the end it has always been this way for me.  I always had to be doing something as a kid, as an adult I am no different.  Rush here or rush there, on time or late.  It’s all the same.  The grass truly isn’t greener, for all that I miss about being a kid pales in comparison to all the cool things I can participate in as an adult.

I love a Western…

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Saloon doors open as the wind drives a tumbleweed through the barren streets of a lonely little high plains town. Inside a half-witted piano player takes note of the mid-sized stranger strolling slowly through the doors, across the threshold.  Quiet falls upon the gallery of scraggly, dirty, motley looking inhabitants renting temporary refuge inside this dank place of excess.  A bartender moves slowly as to not give away his left hands position upon a firmly mounted sawed off double barrel beneath the bar. The stranger moves forward entering the center of the room, eyes steeled upon a table of well dressed men and low brow women.  Money on the table and enough whiskey to purchase a round for the bar three times over are strewn about.  With every step the stranger takes, the farther away life’s crustaceans scurry.  Before long the stranger is standing alone, jaw locked tight, hands laying limply by his side, a gentlemen dressed in what would be most mens Sunday best sits before him.  Without turning around the well dressed man continues to play poker to an unwilling table.  The entire population of the bar have worked their way into optimal viewing positions, some cowering, some standing tall, but all waiting to see who makes the first move.  The well dressed man stands to face the stranger, slowly he turns narrow eyes peer from under the brim of his hat, instantly showing equal disdain for the presence before him.  The stranger speaks…..

Oh man I love westerns! They have filled my head with fantasy for over 40 years! Most of my heroes were cowboys! John Wayne, Glenn Ford, Robert Mitchum, Jimmy Stewart, Clint Eastwood and James Garner. They were real men! Stood for what they believed in no matter the cost. If you weren’t with them you were against them and that meant one of two things; you ended up dead or you duked it out, then shared a whiskey after the brawl. 

As a child we had four channels to choose from, today we have over 800! I miss the old days, as a kid it forced you to watch what was on, you didn’t have any other choice!  If it weren’t for those four channels I am sure I would have missed out on some great televison series! These are a few of the wonderful shows I watched on many a rainy day; Bonanza, Big Valley, Gunsmoke, Bat Masterson, Davey Crockett, F-troop, The Lone Ranger, and Gene Autry. 

Dont even get me started on the fantastic western movies I have seen over the years!  I compiled a small list of westerns that meant something to me, that moved me and continue to garner my attention to this very day. These are not just average westerns, no, no, these are westerns that force me to stop what I am doing, drop everything cold just so I may sit down too watch! 

Old Movies

The Kentuckian, The man who shot Liberty Valence, The Fastest Gun Alive, The Big Country, Rio Bravo, The Alamo, Mclintock, A fistful of dollars, The Cheyenne Social Club, The Sheepherder, Cahill U.S. Marshall, High Plains Drifter, Support your local Gunfighter, Rooster Cogburn, The Shootist and Big Jake.

Newer Era

The Man From Snowy River, A River Runs Through it, Lonesome Dove, Blazing Saddles, Silverado, Quigly Down Under, Hildago, Unforgiven, Tombstone, Appaloosa, Wyatt Earp, and 3:10 to Yuma.

There are numerous westerns spread over many generations, I can honestly say I have sat through most genres; Epic Westerns, Spaghetti westerns, and B movie westerns. Although I may not have liked them all, I certainly enjoyed most of them. 

My all time favorite would have to be Silverado. I have seen it more times than I can honestly count.  The shootout at the end is one of my favorites.  Second runner-up is Tombstone. When Kurt Russell tells Ike Clanton; “tell all the other curs the law is coming, you tell em I’m coming, and Hells coming with me you hear! Hells coming with me! “ is one of the best lines ever in a western.  Big Jake and Mclintock would be tied for third with Appaloosa bringing up a solid fourth.  The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence would finish us off in fifth. 

High Plains drifter, Hidalgo and A river runs through it for honorable mention.

So now that I have completely lost your attention let me explain where I am headed with my school girl/boy crush upon the western genre. These were and still are my heroes!  As an adult when ever a great western comes along I feel as though I am a 9-year-old boy lying on the living room floor gazing upon the open plains dreaming of one day becoming a real bona-fide cowboy!  A man among men, a moral and righteous man with ethics beyond refute! They make me feel alive, reminding myself that no matter how hard life has become, no matter what problems we may encounter, I can disappear into a safe place for just a little while.  My brain can shut off and escape all the modern-day trappings that envelope us.  These characters are bigger than life! I want to be them if only for a little while. 

So what I am wondering is; if I can feel this way after 45 years, what genre will my kids still idolize as adults?  Movies today are centered around gruesome murders, Horrific villains, vampires, zombies, disgusting hate crimes, and social injustice.  Comedies are centered around drugs, ignorance, more social injustice, racism, and disrespect for parents and any unsuspecting figure of authority. Who are the movie stars you would consider safe to set an example for your kids?  Which ones will your children remember as adults for the parts they portrayed?  What actors will still have a viable meaning full career after thirty years, where our children will someday preach the gospel about his/her acting ability?  Or is it completely different now and I am just missing the point?  Are we as a society so plugged into electronic devices, revolving around our friends lives along with news from around the world; there is no longer a need? With so many fantasy world options (video games, Facebook, twitter) have our kids lost the ability to think for themselves? To fantasize about healthy alternatives to the lives they are living?  It all seems mystifying to me.  Am I alone in this? Am I blowing this way out of proportion?  Am I stuck with the Hunger Games and Harry Potter becoming the standard by which they disappear from reality? Or is it because I can’t let go of my dream, inadvertently putting a moratorium on theirs? I just don’t have an answer but I am definitely worried. 

Oh well, for now I am riding off into the sunset, Henry Rifle strapped to my saddle and six-shooter by my side, its time to be moving on……. 

Oh and if you are wondering how my little story from above ended, that’s the beauty of writing, use your imagination.  You tell me….. 

 

Versatile Blogger Award

theycallmebetty7 Comments

I haven’t had an orthodox career, and I’ve wanted more than anything to have your respect. The first time I didn’t feel it, but this time I feel it, and I can’t deny the fact that you like me, right now, you like me!”

You really like me………

I have been nominated for the Personal Blogger Award by Vanessa Chapman http://vanessa-chapman.com 

This is an award bloggers award to each other as a way of showing appreciation for the blogs they enjoy. I am humbled and honored.

(I plagiarized the rules from Vanessa as I feel there is no reason to re-invent the wheel.)

The rules for accepting this award are as follows:

1. Thank the award-givers and link back to them in your post. Easy-Done

2. Share 7 things about yourself. Ok hope I don’t scare anyone, but easy-done.

3. Pass this award along to 15 other bloggers. Fail! Only could nominate 13! 😦

4. Contact your chosen bloggers to let them know about the award. Will let them know as soon as I’ve posted this

Seven things about myself;

  1. I am 45 years old and I can’t wait for retirement. When I refer to retirement it is not in the sense of me walking away from a career, gold watch in hand to sit on some god forsaken island, smoking pot until I die.  On the contrary, I cant wait to start the second half of my life.  To re-invent myself and live life twice.  I have had a stellar first half, the second half can only get better.
  2. I can walk into a burning building, rescue people from a crushed or damaged vehicle, repel off a 5 story building with confidence and walk under a ladder without fear of superstitious reprisal.  But I cannot, and I mean no way, no how can I stand being in the proximity of a spider.  Those eight legged little freaks get me every time.  You want to hear a full-grown 200 pound man jump and scream like a 6th grade school girl then toss a black widow my direction.
  3. My ability to tell the dimensions of something from sight are frustratingly astounding.  Spatial relations are my thing and I am borderline “rainman” about it.  Have a picture to hang, I can tell you one side is off 1/2 inch any direction just by looking at it.  Just had your new bookshelves installed, I am the guy who within 20 seconds of being in the room knows exactly where the carpenter “cheated” or “shorted” you on material.  It makes me crazy and it makes my friends crazy as well.
  4. Scary movies are stupid and a waste of time.  I laugh through them which annoys everyone.  I can tell exactly what is going to happen when it is going to happen. 
  5. 1950’s pin-up girls are awesome.  You can have your skinny, anorexic, vegan, boney butt tooth picks.  I like my women with natural curves, and clothing that leaves something to the imagination. 
  6. When I was 10/11 while walking up my long driveway (we lived in the country) a car pulled up with a creepy guy in it who asked me if I wanted a ride.  Then told me to get in the damn car. He had one hand on the wheel and one in his trousers.  Thank god I had enough sense to run.  I still have nightmares about that guy even at 45. 
  7. I am terrified I will fail as a father.  I put up a good front, but deep down inside I always feel as though failure is right around the corner.  It’s why I write this blog.  It allows me to laugh, vent, and share my experiences.  I can look back on it when I am feeling low and remind myself of all the good I have done with my children.  I know they will laugh looking back on all this as adults.

15 bloggers to pass this award along too.

Soshi-Tech- http://soshitech.com

More valuable information in one blog than should legally be allowed in the states of California and Utah.  Everyone else is OK!

A Detailed House- http://adetailedhouse.com

I love houses and the fine art of decorating them in some of the finest trim.  If you are a closet design geek such as myself who also thinks you can take on any project, than this is the blog for you. The photography is very well done also.

Raising a Realist- http://raisingarealist.com

Scott is a mild-mannered high school English teacher. This blog is his attempt to capture all of his daughters moments.  As a parent of four, I can relate with his tag line. “126 kids but only one will wipe my but when I am old”

Mayahood- http://mayahoodblog.com

Adventure seeker, world traveler turned mother.  She has a mixture of her views on motherhood along with guest posts.  It is an entertaining blog.

Bucket List Publications- http://lesleycarter.wordpress.com

This one is near and dear to me as it is a blog that completely follows the premiss of getting out there and doing all those things you keep putting off.  They even pick some of your bucket list suggestions and through donations make it happen for you.  It’s quite the premise and I enjoy reading it immensely

A Confederacy of Spinsters- http://confederacyofspinsters.com

This is one of my favorites!  Three women from Texas, each one taking a turn writing about life trials and tribulations all under pseudo names.  Grace, Mae and Kate.  Its is always witty, relevant and fun!  I look forward to new postings they way one waits at the window for a long-awaited package from UPS. 

Musings of a stay at home Jewish Father- http://stayathometatte.wordpress.com

Another blog dedicated to a male role model at home raising his child.  Its funny and real with great pictures as he chronicles the day-to-day life of a stay at home dad.

In My Opinion- http://diane-ownes.com

Diane is on a quest to ask a different, relevant question everyday for a year. Interesting concept and I find the answers entertaining.

Debut Dad- http://debutdad.wordpress.com

Brenden is a first time dad who lives in Australia.  He blogs about juggling the changes in his life with the birth of their first-born child. Good luck Brenden and keep em coming. 

Vanessa Chapman- http://vanessa-chapman.com

Vanessa nominated my blog,  and although she is already nominated I enjoy her blog and look forward to every new edition she puts forth.  From superstition to the purchase of a new pair of boots.  She is funny and I find her blog to be a good way to blow a little time at work! Ha!

365 trinkets- http://365trinkets.wordpress.com

This blog is a reminder of how much crap we accumulate as adults.  His mission? To get rid of 365 trinkets he has stored as treasured keepsakes over a 25 year period.  The blog revolves around taking pictures of each one (for memories sake) then getting rid of said item. 

maggiemaeijustsaythis- http://maggiemaeijustsaythis.wordpress.com

A blog dedicated to writing poetry and personal trials and tribulations.  I enjoy the freedom with which she expresses herself.

Take a shower- http://takeashower.wordpress.com

A blog about Eloise and the raising of her five children.  She writes about the past and present, reflecting on the moments in time with the raising of her five children.

I am sorry to say I only have 13 to nominate for this award.  I fail!  But the thirteen I have chosen I follow with great intent.  I enjoy many other blogs but they are new to my collection and I havent gotten the chance to know them well enough yet for a nomination. 

Vanessa you were right, I also anguished over my choices.

Humilities heavy hand…

theycallmebettyLeave a comment

He sat there, head hung down, dejected, feeling a mixture of sadness and anger. A year had passed since he took up this new endeavor, four months had passed since his last attempt. He and his partner strolled slowly from the arena of play trying their hardest not to make eye contact with anyone who had noticed what had just happened. Through the gate was all he could think about, lets just make it through the gate. He passed another contender on the way out and gave her the obligatory “good luck”. He meant it, his partner made eye contact with hers and they both made a feeble acknowledgment. He wanted to stay and watch as she had also just recently taken up this endeavor. Her partner was definitely ready but you could see the nervousness in her eyes. Yet he couldn’t bear to watch, he just needed to get outside and take in some fresh air, they both needed too.

As he cleared the opening to the coliseum they both took a long deep breath. Nothing had gone as planned. They both knew it, and no words need be spoken. It was hard on them both for they practiced day after day, working hard honing their skills. His partner was coming along quite nicely, yet he had only shimmering moments of light. His play was good, but to get in sync with his younger partner meant he needed to be better. Running, sprinting, cutting back and forth, they both were getting into incredible shape. His partner had gone from a small scrappy fighter to a muscle-bound machine of might and will. He as well expended a tremendous amount of effort in the arena of play. Grunting, sweating, working hard, eventually shrinking down from a bloated toad to a balanced quicker moving adversary.

Together the two of them had days where either was discouraged and upset with the other. Yet they continued to work as a team time after time. Some days his partner would be so angry with his obvious lack of performance, things would become physical. This over zealous attitude earned neither one of them any tangible successes. Yet the next day they would be back at it, working hard, knowing they had it in them to be the very best. He secretly admired his younger partner, for her skills were lightning fast and aggressive. He always felt bad when he left her hanging with no rebound or solid attempt to repair the damage he had done. He was glad she stayed by his side though, always willing to make things better on the next go around.

Two weeks to go and they both were feeling some synchronicity! They were excited and felt accomplishment was right around the corner. They trained harder than before and after each practice he had great words of encouragement for his partner. They were both happy. They could see the light. One week to go, practices were steadily improving, successes were becoming more frequent. Two days to go a battle plan was set, confidence was on the rise, everyone could feel a solid run was in their future.

The day finally arrived, both rose early and ate big healthy breakfasts. Equipment was cleaned and loaded for an on time departure. Arriving at the coliseum brought a sense of calm to one, excitement to the other. The calm one walked in to check on registration, scout out the facility and the competition, while the excited one stayed behind hoping to reign in all that energy she held inside. The day went along smoothly, contenders were doing quite well and the two of them could feel their time was near. They donned their equipment and both strolled into the practice area ready for a solid warm up. She was doing everything right. Her roll outs were solid, her cut backs crisp, her slides on point she was ready! Her nervousness had ceased, her head was held high and confidence was at a premium.

Funny thing about confidence, sometimes it can turn into nervousness. He had all the confidence in the world, he showed a good face, but as with the times before, he just couldn’t turn off his brain. And that is the death of any good athlete. Its one thing to know how to play the game, to know how and why you move here or there on the field of battle. To be able to stay calm and collected when things go sideways, and in this sport that is the main direction of choice. But if you can’t turn off your brain and just trust your instincts you will fail. If you can’t turn of your brain and trust in your partner you will never succeed. Thusly your partner will never trust you, leaving you both with nothing but failure. This is what he had done to sabotage the team again. All the work, all those practices, all the trust he had gained in his partner. All the trust his partner had gained in him. All gone the moment they crossed that line and the two of them made that first “almost perfect” cut right in the center of the arena. You would have thought making a great first cut would have calmed him down, left him at ease, allowed him to relax, but instead he felt none of that, why? because he couldn’t turn off his brain and just let things happen. Too bad, too bad for them both…

And so he sat there, head hung down, dejected, feeling a mixture of sadness and anger…

I wrote this about Cassie and I. We both compete in the well-known sporting event of “Cutting” . My partner (Cassie) is a gorgeous 4-year-old quarter horse who I adore. She is athletic, fast and incredibly kind. She is also very forgiving. She has been trained very well, she loves her “job” and I know in my heart one day we will win a lot of events. She deserves too for all she has put with on my behalf.

I wrote this in a nondescript fashion because I feel it relates to all disciplines. If you are not dedicated and willing to accept your failures you will never succeed. Sometimes those failure are laughable, sometimes they are painful, sometimes they are embarrassing. But whats important is you learn from them each and every time. For no one is perfect at anything the very first time they try something. My wife put it best when she said; Honey the very first time as a fireman you walked into a structure fire, did you perform every task perfectly? Of course the answer was no. How many fires did it take before you started to fully understand what was happening, improving your outcome of success? I replied MANY. She looked at me a stated quietly; same thing…….

My son also rides in this sport, and is the reason I wrote this little synopsis of yesterdays events. You see sometimes in life we learn from the ones we teach. Even if that “one” is eleven years old. I wrote it on my sons behalf as a reminder to myself that with hard work comes great reward and sometimes even when everything feels like its going right it all falls apart and failure is imminent. Usually at no ones fault but your own. We learn from failure, we learn from embarrassment and most of all when we are done spewing these little virtues to our children, we learn from them as well. For as I left the arena yesterday, upset and dejected my eleven year old son walked right up to us both and said; Its Ok dad, you guys will get’ em next time. I thought your cuts were great! Then with a big smile on his face he told me he loved me and gave Cassie a kiss on the forehead.

My eyes watered up a little at the thought he had actually been listening to my little gems of wisdom. My heart filled with pride knowing he felt comfortable enough in our relationship as father and son to expound my own words upon me. As he walked away with me in tow to watch the rest of the competitors I couldn’t help but think to myself.

I think he just “Eddie Haskell’ed” me. Little bugger! He outscored me today and I know he is going to remind me of this fact over and over again!

Oh well, he deserves too. Plus there is always next months show……

One of my better quotes; I think it fits in this case.

I would rather work with five guys who have tried and failed miserably at something one time in their life, than one guy who has succeeded at everything.

Betty…..