Wyoming, Still Untamed Thankfully

 

The feud between Gov. Mark Gordon and Secretary of State Chuck Gray boiled over Thursday when Gordon asked Gray, “Do you want to step outside” near the end of a marathon Wyoming Board of Land Commissioners meeting in Douglas.

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A state representative from Casper wants to keep people from being charged with drunk driving if they're drunk while riding a horse, mule or donkey. The bill made one defense attorney laugh and left prosecutors wondering if a specific case inspired it.

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Citizen Disarmament Flourishes in Blue State Colorado

That pesky 2^nd Amendment keeps getting in the way of the Liberal’s dream of disarming all citizens. OK, they say, we will make it expensive, inconvenient with many “gotcha” laws to entangle you in legal trouble. You should just give up.

 Latest version.

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I have a strategy in place. To all questions, “I plead the 5^th”. “I don’t agree to any searches”. “I won’t have any conversation without counsel present”.

I’m generally pro law enforcement and don’t want to make officers jobs any harder. That said, I’m protecting my ass first.

Car Story

Charles Sampson

He was a 5’ something Los Angeles kid who became the first modern era black World Champion Bull Rider in 1982. He and Little Hitler, who spent years riding bulls, were friends. Charles had a long term gig with Wrangler clothing but decided to try selling cars. After floundering for a couple of weeks, he asked my help and I started training him in the “Tank” way.

Among used trucks, Kias, and used cars we sold stock and utility trailers. We had a 40’ tilt bed gooseneck trailer with a truck on it, tilted, out front one winter and we needed to clear snow. The trailer had a wood deck but metal over the wheels. I stepped on the metal and feel off on my ass. Charles found this amusing until he did the same.

After that I enjoyed pulling his chain with, “Yeah, Charles and I both got bucked off at the same event, but I had the tougher draw”. 

Charles lost an ear in Reno when a bull stepped on his head and had two prosthetic ears. One was darker for summer time. He and Sisty were good friends and she enjoyed telling him when it was time to change ears. One time when she was on her way to Reno to see her daughter and grand kids, she asked him if he wanted her to look for his ear.

Fame can be a burden. Charles learned quickly how to sell cars. His problem was people stopping just to meet him who didn’t have the means to buy anything.

Many people called him Charlie, which he tolerated. I called him Charles, which he preferred.

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As always, YMMV

 

Fools, and Damn Fools

My former employer of many years was a professional bull rider from the time he was in high school. Had a college rodeo scholarship. Wives, ex wives, several children, and multiple businesses interfered so he had gaps in his pursuit. He wasn’t championship level. In baseball terms he was Triple A.
We recently encountered him as a spectator at a bull riding event and remarked on how fit he looked. The remarks pleased him and he told us of his plan to get back into riding bulls.

At his first comeback event, he cracked two ribs. Undeterred, he rode in an event Friday.

This is the result.

This might slow him down. However, back in the day, with his right arm and shoulder in a cast, he drove a stick shift Subaru from Albuquerque to Mesquite, TX to make the next event.

My sister’s companion still wants to ride at 50+. When I first met him, my response was anyone crazy enough to keep riding bulls was probably crazy enough to date my sister.

These bull riders just don’t quit. I admit to being a well seasoned fool. I deny being a damn fool. Wonder how I keep ending up around them?

On a different topic, this picture was taken in my town today.

Old Cowboys

Something different from the usual political rants. A part of the small Western town way of life that is still present in small pockets.

Old cowboy, living out his years, was a resident of our town. Lived in a room at a railroad hotel, conveniently located above a bar,  and across the street from an inexpensive restaurant. Most bowlegged man I ever saw. Nice man, always friendly, with Old West manners.

Railroad hotels were cheap places to sleep. Small room, single bed, wash basin in the room, and a shared bath down the hall. Nearly every town had one even if they didn’t have a railroad.

Our town had an annual Stockman’s Ball, better known as the Stockman’s Brawl, and the old cowboy was always  present. For all his bowlegs, he could really dance. He was always “scrubbed up” and well dressed by cowboy standards. Very few ladies, of any age or marital status, declined his request to dance.

As usual, towards the end of the evening, a brawl broke out in the middle of the dance floor. Maybe a dozen or so combatants. He was in the middle of it. He was trying to crawl away but every time he got to the edge, someone would grab him and toss him back into the brawl.  My mother, who had a hold of the back of my belt, told me to go pull him out. I succeeded, but then had to defend myself until the deputies broke up the uproar.

Later, the old cowboy thanked me. Of course, my mother raised holy hell with me. Just a routine occurrence at that time and place.

Going out tonight with my sister and her man to watch the professional bull riders. Her S.O. rode bulls well into his fifties and has the beat up body to prove it. Hope there is a fight. Can’t have a good rodeo without a fight. It won’t be me; too damn old and slow healing for that.