Salt Lake City Run

Wyoming Sunrise this morning "Somewhere West of Laramie".  Through a not very clean windshield. For my friend who is home recuperating and for anyone who might like it.

Hotshot freight run last night to Salt Lake City; out and back.  Listening to the storm news while driving under a clear sky with a moon so bright I turned off my headlight and could still see to drive (but not deer and pronghorns). About two  minutes and the lights were back on.

1,051 miles. Nothing for a long distance trucker but pushing it for this geezer.

Cowboy Poetry

My pal Hal Swift sent me another. Offered as relief from the elections drama.


The Cowpokes' Roll-Away Saloon
by Hal Swift

In the early history of the Golden West,
along the Arizona, Utah border,
there was only one bar where a thirsty cowpoke
could set down an' place 'im an order.

But north to south, Kanab to Fredonia,
the cowpokes' spirits was low.
Seems that lone saloon kept runnin' outta booze,
cuz the ol' freight wagon's so slow.

Some a the boys started stashin' their stuff,
so's to sneak a sip durin' the day.
But by late afternoon their off-key singin'
would allus give 'em away.

The cowpokes felt they was bein' held down,
an' it made 'em both mean an' cross.
 An' they got no help from the old, married men,
whose wives seem to think they're the boss.

If you happened to be too close to the house
when y'stopped to wet yer whistle,
you kin bet one'd see ya, an' give you a look
like she maybe jist swallered a thistle.

Some men got fired, and their wives got upset,
and declared no more drinkin' at all.
But the drinkin' continued in all sorts a spots.
One boy had a bar in a stall!

Things only got worse as the days went by.
The men was all mopin' aroun',
'til someone suggested that they build another
saloon on the outskirts of town.

They decided the state line would be a good place,
an' they'd build it on rollers becuz
then they could move it if worse come to worse,
an' the womenfolk found where it was.

So that's what they did, the boys built their saloon,
south of town maybe four miles or so.
They built a road to it, on top of the dunes,
where the ladies weren't likely to go.

Kanab's side of the border's where they parked it first,
an' ever'thin' hummed along fine.
Then the gals found out, an' went to set it on fire,
but the men rolled it over the line.

"We're in Arizona!" the boys all hollered,
"so you better stop right where you're at!"
The women said, "Okay, but leave it right there.
Roll it back, an' it's gone, like that!"

Then Fredonia's ladies decided they'd give
their Kanabian sisters a hand.
The men tried to roll their saloon back north,
but the thing bogged down in the sand.

The Kanab ladies heard, an' come back on the run,
an' you knew that the drinkers'd lose.
The saloon couldn't roll, so it set there an' burned,
with thirty-six kegs fulla booze.

With alla that alcohol burnin' at once,
the flames was angry an' loud.
The ladies was dancin' an' singin' with joy,
til a shout went up from the crowd.

Seems some a the cowpokes had stayed with the booze,
an' was there when the ceilin' fell in.
A collection was took up to care fer the widders,
an' a prayer was said fer the men.

Where the tragedy happened is all desert now.
Ghosts play in the light of the moon.
An' some folks say they've heard off-key singin'
comin' from down on the dune.

                           --0--

Based on a true story, reported in the
Southern Utah News by Dixie Brunner
August 21, 2002 Special Section p.8

And the cowboys in Kanab still do  their drinking in Fredonia.

Disgust

When you request an absentee ballot in Colorado, that, along with your telephone number if you give it, is a public record and available to campaign workers. Today, received a phone call from a lady on behalf of the Obama campaign.

She asked if I had sent in my ballot; if I had voted for Obama. Told her I hadn’t sent in my ballot and I hadn’t made up my mind. (Not exactly a lie. About Obama, made up my mind about him in the first sixty days he was in office. Still mulling over local candidates, judges, and ballot issues.)

We chatted for awhile. We know each other through local politics. I explained I was a Blue Dog who is very angry with the “Progressives”. Her ringing endorsement of Obama? “Well, he is certainly better than the other guy.” She went on to denounce the “other guy”, never mentioning him by name. Loyal party worker, doing her part, one of the year in, year out types,  and that is her level of enthusiasm?

What a fucking statement about this election. Yeah, I’m voting for Romney. Not because I like him but because he is “certainly better than the other guy.” Shit!

The local campaign office is just three blocks away. Will wander over that way for coffee and conversation. Better than a singles bar for meeting women. Yes, I know. I’m disgusting.

End of the day, be a citizen, get involved, vote! Hold your nose if you must but vote!

Stereotyping

Two Irishmen walk out of a bar.

No, seriously! It really did happen.

OH, B.S., Rating Colorado Judges II

October 25th, 2010, I posted about rating Colorado Judges.

http://wellseasonedfool.blogspot.com/2010/10/oh-bs-rating-colorado-judges.html

Two years, to the day, nothing has changed. This cycle one judge is listed as "Do not retain" and one is listed as "No Opinion". All others, "Retain".

Senior Moment

Pull up to the diesel pump. Find credit card. Gather used coffee cups and assorted trash. Place in waste/trash holder. Where is the damn credit card?

Some interesting design went into that island set up and access to the trash can. Access via a hatch on one side. Strange looks from other patrons.

On the bright side, did this before pumping diesel. Otherwise, 400 miles down the road until noticing the missing card. Gad, I’m getting old.

Colorado Beef Commercial Plug

Signs available from Colorado Cattlewomen's Association. Mountain scene or Plains scene.

Some old friends involved here. Good folks, good ranching practices, give back to their communities.