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Broncs, Beer, and Convenience Store Clerks
May sixth in the year of our Lord, 2001
Greetings from BFE...
Feel free to forward this
e-mail to your friends, relatives, enemies -- people on your "too
kill" list.
Old business:
E-mails regarding last weeks
newsletter.
Q.) You've taken
newsletters to a new level.
A.) I'm not real sure how
to respond...notice he didn't say if the level was up or down.
Q.) You're (actual
spelling from e-mail) grammar is terrible. Didn't you take English in
High School?
A.) English, hmm, let me
think...Oh yeah, that was the class after lunch. Sorry, I was drunk by
then.
Q.) Do you ever read
your e-mails?
A.) Well I obviously read
this one, for some reason...
Got a question or comment, drop me a line at:
racox@officetex.com
If you feel left behind you can check out past
installments of my newsletter at: http://www.racox.com/photo.htm
+++
Welp, I'm tired, sore, and
frazzled. But it's over. Branding is done -- thank God.
The day started at 4:30 a.m.
First I wake my wife's brothers, who have stayed the night at our house in
order to travel to the ranch with us. They are teenagers, 'nuff said. So,
I wake them again, then again. On the third attempt I turn the
lights on in every room and pull all the covers off of the beds, this at least
causes some discomfort when they doze back off. As a last
resort, I fill a glass of cold water. The boys are up and at
'em at last.
Then I wake my wife and my two
sons. This is a bit like waking the teenagers, only with more
whining.
By 5:30 everyone is at least
partially dressed, and we are on the road. We stop in the town of
Whitedeer to get gas and breakfast. We're in a hurry, so naturally the
convenience store clerk is a moron, and my wife manages to confuse him with a
question about the museum artifacts under heat lamp that pass for breakfast
food. I blame her totally. I mean damn, couldn't she tell that
this guy is a moron? I think he was even wearing the secret
fraternity ring and everything. This delays us at least one whole
minute. My morning is officially ruined...
We arrive at 6:30, greet
friends and neighbors we haven't seen in almost a year, then saddle up and get underway.
My mare is about to have a colt, so I'm riding my wife's old roping
horse. Now Buddy (the horse) hasn't seen any action in
roughly six months, needless to say, he's feeling his oats. And for
some reason I'm feeling mine too on this crisp Spring morning.
A cosmically bad combination. So once we get to the pasture we're
gathering, just for the hell of it, he decides to buck. In retaliation I
decide to give him his head and run the iron too him. I later realize
that this was just part of my ongoing mid-life crisis, but it seemed like a
good idea at the time. Thankfully old Buddy couldn't buck off a wet
saddleblanket, otherwise I would have ended up on my head spitting sand.
Even so, he almost lost me. Finally, we came to a mutual
understanding, he wouldn't buck, and I would quit acting like a teenager.
After the horse came to a standstill, I looked back at my loving wife...it was
apparent she was rooting for the horse.
A couple of hours later we have
the cattle penned and I realize that we don't have enough flankers.
Flankers are the grunt labor at a branding; the guys who hold the
calves down while the branding crew works on them. In the hierarchy
of the branding crew, flanker is near the bottom...well them and the
guy that puts screw worm dope on, but that's another story. So even
though I'm in the midst of a mid-life crisis, I'm still among the youngest
there...that means I get to flank. Now wait a minute, I
have a cushy office job now. But it doesn't matter to them how sore I'm
going to be, and I don't dare bring it up...I'd rather be sore
than take the ribbing. Luckily my loving wife manages to capture the
moment on film, a picture of me covered in sweat, manure, and dust. http://www.racox.com/photo.htm
I can always count on her to
remember those embarrassing moments for me...and when the opportunity presents
itself, immortalize it on film.
We are done and eating
lunch at about 1:00 p.m., and I still have no idea how sore I'm going to
be, but I think my wife does, because she's giving me goofy looks and laughing
a lot. (I did check my zipper just in case you were wondering) We
eat lunch and go over the local gossip, but somehow it's not like it used to
be. Maybe I'm just older now, hell maybe we're all just older,
but I remember when two cases of beer wouldn't even get the branding
oiled up. Now-a-days there is plenty left in the cooler when the party
ends. Of course that could be because I quit drinking a few years back.
Still, I had a good time, and
if you're curious, I was able to move some the next day. I wasn't
exactly doing the mambo, but I could shuffle along enough to get in and out of
bed. The Branding might not have been exactly what I
remembered from years gone by, but I'll still look forward too it next year.
Maybe I just need the assurance that things like brandings will always be
there...maybe it's because I can't let go of the memories. Whatever,
I'll still take a week of my vacation for it. Beats dealing with
convenience store clerks all day...
+++
The Cox Family kid quote of the
week comes, again, from my son Rhoan, age 4: "Why do guys have
nipples daddy?" he asked me. Funny thing is, I couldn't
find a response. If anyone out there knows, I know a little four
year old boy that's wondering.
+++
Just two more weeks until I
release the first installment of "Sword of God". I invite you
to forward these installments to anyone you like...preferably someone who
would like to pay me to write for them. :)
Until next week, don't let the
convenience store clerks ruin your day,
R.A.
"It's hard to stay exciting your whole
life." ~ Dwayne, Texasville
Copyright (c) 2001, R.A. Cox, All Rights Reserved.
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