Is Cowboy Time Slower Than City Slicker Time?

I've got a couple cowboy friends that I've met over the years while attending the Western Writers of America conferences. Lately I've noticed that when I talk to them, they don't seem a bit concerned over the time or the date. Yesterday I called a man I've been working with who has a great memoir about his life as a cowboy. He lives on a ranch near Dallas, I asked him about the news that said Dallas had broken a record with 26 straight days of temperatures over 100 degrees. In that wonderful Texas drawl, Charlie said, "It been that long? Don't seem like more than a day or two."

Later in the conversation I asked Charlie about a gig he has coming up. He's also a cowboy poet and often recites his poetry for libraries. He didn't "recollect" the date. Then he said, "Think it's in the afternoon sometime. I told 'em to do it later so I could get all the chores done and my nap in before I drove to town."

Charlie wasn't concerned at all about any of it. And after talking with him, I wasn't either. What a peaceful feeling. Then about five minutes after I talked to my friend in Texas, I talked to a gal from Illinois and for the next half hour she worried about dates and times and sales and signings and everything under the sun. When I hung up from that phone call I know my heart rate was double and I could feel my blood pressure rise. I wanted to call Charlie back, but he'd already told me he was due for his nap.

Is cowboy time slower do you think? Could it be that they've found a secret? I know that everytime I talk to Charlie he'll mention that he doesn't understand how anyone could live in a subdivision. He said that land is a natural noise buffer. When I worried about the heat in Texas, he said that 100 degrees in his ranch is a lot cooler than 100 degrees in the city. I know he was kidding, but the fact that he wasn't complaining like I was and all my friends here in St. Louis were, was refreshing. When he told me he was "due for his a nap," I teased him that it was only noon. He said, "Well, I just won't look at the durn clock and that way my body won't know what time it is."

Recently, when frustrated over not being able to get everything done one day, I remembered something my grandpa told me years ago. He always piddled with things around his yard, in his shed, under the hood of his car, on his boat and sometimes on the kitchen table. Whenever he plopped his toolbox down, you knew he'd be working on some project for hours. "Just do what ya feel like doin', when you feel like doin' it, and you'll get a lot more done that way," he told me. Grandpa wasn't a cowboy, although he did seem to live that carefree life, but he was wise and I think he didn't let the clock or the weather stand in his way no more than Charlie does.

New Mexico

Several years ago, my husband and I were lucky enough to take a tour of the West with famous Western Writer, Dusty Richards. When we drove through New Mexico, Dusty circled around the Santa Fe area to show us the land he had fallen in love with on his many trips through the state researching his novels. We spent one night in a small little town called Santa Rosa. They had a weird body of water there called a Blue Hole. Although I grew up a river gal and will swim almost anywhere, that blue circle of 80 foot deep water scared the you-know-what right outta me. How do you know what monsters lurk under you when the water is that deep? We just sat and watched from a park bench while kids jumped off a natural waterfall into the beautiful Blue Hole. But I kept thinking of how the pioneers must have felt when they ran across the pool.

The Blue Hole in Santa Rosa

Also in Santa Rosa was an old abandoned mission. The tombstones out front had dates that went back to the early 1800's. Most of the walls were gone, the roof had fallen in decades ago, and there was nothing left inside except a tree that had taken root and grown to nearly ten feet. I took pictures at sunset and the light that shone inside the adobe walls looked like gold. It was truly a miraculous place and it made me fall in love with New Mexico. It truly is the Land of Enchantment.

That trip west was the one that made me see the land like it was before towns and highways marred its deserts and mountains. Before the sound of car horns and tractors covered the peaceful wind through the trees. And before red aluminum canoes dotted the Rio Grande River.

The Rio Grande going through New Mexico.

Hills around the Taos area in the late nineteenth century.

Santa Fe in the early 20th century.



Cowboys and Aliens?

     Wow! Now I've seen it all. But I'm willing to suspend my disbelief long enough to watch this one. The classic Western movie gets mashed with the alien invasion flick to create Cowboys & Aliens -- a new twist on two popular movie genres. But Steven Spielberg is an executive producer and we all know that he loves aliens. I guess he might be a Western fan too. It's got an interesting plot which begins in 1875 in the New Mexico Territory. A stranger with no memory of his past stumbles into the hard desert town of Absolution. (Now isn't that the greatest Western town name ever?) The only hint to his history is a mysterious shackle that encircles one wrist. What he discovers is that the people of Absolution don't welcome strangers, and nobody makes a move on its streets unless ordered to do so by the iron-fisted Colonel Dolarhyde. (Again, great name for a bad guy in a Western town!)     

      But Absolution is about to experience fear it can scarcely comprehend as the desolate city is attacked by marauders from the sky. Screaming down with breathtaking velocity and blinding lights to abduct the helpless one by one, these monsters challenge everything the residents have ever known.

     Now, the stranger they rejected is their only hope for salvation. As this gunslinger slowly starts to remember who he is and where he's been, he realizes he holds a secret that could give the town a fighting chance against the alien force. With the help of the elusive traveler Ella he pulls together a posse comprised of former opponents--townsfolk, Dolarhyde and his boys, outlaws and Apache warriors--(there ya go, now it's Cowboys, Indians, and Aliens) all in danger of annihilation. United against a common enemy, they will prepare for an epic showdown for survival.

Come on, even Dusty should watch this one. And anything that helps bring back the Western is okay with me.

What is the West?

A gal wrote to me yesterday asking what I considered to be the "Old West." I didn't know how to answer so I did a little research. Here is what I found on Wikipedia...

The American Old West (often referred to as the Far West, Old West or Wild West) comprises the history, geography, people, lore, and cultural expression of life in the Western United States, most often referring to the period of the later half of the 19th century, between the American Civil War and the end of the century. After the 18th century and the push beyond the Appalachian Mountains, the term is generally applied to anywhere west of the Mississippi River in earlier periods and westward from the frontier strip toward the later part of the 19th century. More broadly, the period stretches from the early 19th century to the end of the Mexican Revolution in 1920.

That's a great explanation. I have a small blurb about what western writing is on the High Hill Website and it really says a lot about the West too.

The Western is not just about shootouts and the gold rush, or wagons going west. The true Western can cover the Texas Ranger battling a cattle rustler in the year 2011. The true Western doesn't simply tell us about Wild Bill Hickok and his last hand of cards, it'll tell us about the dandies who played poker in the saloons of New York City in the 1800's. The Western Frontier is alive and well today. America is unique in its history and rich with the myth of its beginnings. Today the cowboy still rides the range and ropes the cow he needs to put a brand on. But when he goes into town to relax behind a frothy mug of beer, he probably does it in his F-350 Ford pickup. The sky is still wide and blue over this country and the tales of the West are still written and read.

High Hill Press
Cactus Country Page

Here's Some Cowboys For Ya!

I started reading True Grit again last night. It's an amazing book. I think I was feeling a little guilty because I talked about western movies the other day, when it's western writing that Cactus Country wants to promote. But almost all the good movies started with a good book, right? And all-in-all I think the movies help the book industry. I wonder how many people watched a western movie, then decided it's a genre they might enjoy reading. I imagine John Wayne sold a ton of books in his day by making all the western movies he made. So I guess discussing the movies is a good thing. And I truly believe that most writers write because of their love of story. And story is everywhere. So here are some of my pics for the best cowboy film stars of all times.

Naturally John Wayne has to be first.

I have no idea what movie this is, he basically always wore the same clothes unless it was an army movie and he wore a uniform. But did you ever notice that no matter how much fighting and hard dusty riding the Duke did, his bandana never moved.

Sam Elliot makes a pretty good cowboy.



Tom Selleck

This might be my favorite cowboy, but John Wayne would haunt me if I say that for sure.



Brad Pitt as Jesse James.

And who can forget that Henry Fonda also played in a lot of westerns. Although I think this picture is one of his bad guy roles.

Kris Kristofferson as Billy the Kid.







Thinking About the Old Days

Bright and early this morning, a big truck parked in front of my house to drop off a bunch of angry looking machinery. I guess they meant it when they sent me a notice awhile back that said I should not park on the street as of July 20th until July 29th. They're repaving! Our tax dollars at work. And how ingenious to schedule it for the hottest week in history. I think maybe the heat makes the blacktop dry faster or something. Anyway, while I was watching them unload all the expensive looking equipment, I got to thinking about the "old days." In the old days they didn't have trucks the size of a house or machinery that dug and ground the dirt and old concrete, they had horses and mules and oxen, but most importantly they had men who didn't mind hard work. Men who worked with their bare hands, a shovel, and a horse or mule. I never tire of hearing the story about my grandpa and how he dug basements under houses by hand. He would dig, put the dirt on a wooden sled, then climb up and move his horse forward to get the sled out of the hole. Then he'd climb back in and do it all over again. He used the same horse to move snow from the brick roads of town so that wagons and cars could make it through. 

Even farther back than Grandpa's old days were the days when the hard work of men and animals built everything in this country. Roads were dug and smoothed through forests and mountains. Trees were chopped and turned into lumber so that towns could be built. And in the early days it was all done without the benefit of heavy equipment. Men and animals did the heavy lifting, the grading, the moving of earth and rock. I decided to do a little research. Here are some photos I found to show the way it was done in the "old days." I think I'll print them off and take them outside to the crew standing at the end of my driveway. Maybe it'll make them feel a little better while they labor in the hot summer sun.

Another Surprise

Wow, this Cactus Country gal woke up today and found a few followers on the new blog. Blog fairies work late I guess. But here's another video for all you Western fans. I know many may disagree, but I think Brad Pitt makes a great cowboy. http://youtu.be/qp2ppYB9fDo

And a question for today . . . what's your all time favorite western movie?
Here's mine. http://youtu.be/WI2AZb04HAc