When I was a kid, we played cowboys and indians. I had my hat, vest, chaps, a belt with 2 silver cap guns... I was born wearing jeans and boots (sorry about that mom). My sister said I was a self proclaimed "do dun dowdoy". I've always had an admiration for the folks that settled the west, and those that were the best light cavalry on this continent. I know I have at least one side represented in my lineage. I have pictures on my walls right now that hung in my parent's room growing up. Cowboys, Indians, western subjects, old farm houses... I still consider my self a DOT (danged ol' Texan) that is riding line and looking for strays.
|If this were me, I'd have my left leg hooked around the saddle horn too.|
I don't hit the office much, and my area to cover is south Texas. So I a wound up being a cowboy, well, sort of anyway...
----Non PC Content Below The Fold----
----content that was perfectly fine in 1977----
Uh... Post Title? Beuler? Bueler?
This was hanging in my room all through my childhood, until I left home.
I remember that, read it a million times. I try to live it too. It's a Texas prarie version of the golden rule, again, sort of... Not the "he who has the gold makes the rules", but the other one.
Today, I had a vivid movietone news reel run through my mind, even had Walter Winchell narrating... Hard stuff to see and hear, while I coughed my liver out and gasped like a trout on the bank... (I thought the output was adjustable!!!!!! Is it empty??? How did it get BETWEEN two numbers?)