He took a long gulp of the still-steaming coffee, almost as if he were drinking cool water. He grinned when he saw the alarm on her face. ‘An ol’ cattleman learns to drink his coffee hot an’ fast.'”
–Paul Bagdon (Stallions at Burnt Rock)
Yippi-ki-yay! It’s National Day of the Cowboy. Come in here, pard, let’s celebrate. I made the coffee extra strong in honor of those ol’ boys of days gone by. I hear tell there’s a few of them around today. If not, who feeds us those hamburgers we so often have? Makes me think of that song that ol’ troubadour, Don Edwards sings, “Say Goodbye to Montana.”
“All honor to the cowboy,
Your praises they will sing,
‘Cause you never sold your saddle
That’s the most important thing.”
Almost brings a tear to this ol’ boy’s eye. Selling yur saddle? Why pard, a man who sold his saddle isn’t much of a man. He’s unfaithful to the Lord, his family, the code, and himself. In fact, the Lord in western lingo will say on that final day, “Well done, fellow pard, yuh didn’t sell yur saddle, proud of yuh, come on in.”
Sure wish I could offer yuh a piece of pie to celebrate. But his coffee will have to do, ahhhh. Hey, did I tell yuh, the doc said I have some spurs? No, not the kind like yur a-wearin’ on yur boots. The little imps are most likely what’s causin’ all the pain in my legs. They sit a kickin’ on my last vertebrae. They sure do make me take notice of them from time to time. They prod me just like you go proddin’ that hoss of yurs.
Let’s finish this pot, but before you take that last sip I read where the temperature was 124 degrees in Death Valley. Whooeeee, that’s hotter than a biscuit-eater. I was there a few years back, and it does get hot! Had to pull the ol’ steel mount off and let her cool down some before I could get out of that place. Look at the weather, scorchin’ hot in the West and floodin’ in other parts of the country. We sure do get riled up about the weather and there’s not much that can be done about it.
You be takin’ it easy, you just mosey along, no need of hurryin’ and for mercy’s sake, check yur cinch.
Vaya con Dios,