I am home from seeing the cowboys. I saw a bunch of them. I didn't find any keepers. But it was a fun day, nonetheless.
I took my camera with me. I took NO pictures. Why? Because I forgot the camera in the truck!! I was parked 148 miles from the exhibition area, and I was not going to take the shuttle back to the truck for it. You'll just have to rely on my wonderful word pictures!
I enjoyed the time at the Cowboy Symposium. It's a good thing I didn't have any money, 'cause I would have spent it, for sure. Everything in the world vaguely related to cowboys was for sale there today. I saw a number of things I would have happily brought home, but I was good. I bought just a couple small things, both justifiable. Sorta. A tub of an amazing leather treatment was one purchase. They cleaned/polished my dusty boots in one swipe, no rubbing or elbow grease required, and the leather was immediately softly glowing, richly deep in color, and supple to the touch. It surely beats rubbing and sweating to make them look better. The other purchase was a pair of earrings. OK, OK!! Not necessary. But they were amazingly inexpensive, made by a good friend, and they match a ring I bought from her a while back. See? Justified! Sorta. Oh, yeah, I also ordered two glass beads to be specially made for me. The woman makes her own beads, and she does a superb job. She had several in the shapes of animals. I saw some that were rams, the sign of my astrological sign, Aries. I didn't like the colors she had, so she is making me two in a color that will match my truck, an electric blue, that I will make into earrings. I can't wait to get them!
I visited with several friends who were there, either as vendors or just browsing, like myself. One of them, Paul, came to find me later, asking if I was going to stick around for the dancing in the evening. I told him I hadn't really planned to, but I had no particular plans. He said the he hoped I would. His wife has a bad back from an injury, and she can't dance more than one or two before she is in pain, and he loves to dance, so he hoped I would stay and kick up some dust with him. I agreed to stick around. Later, however, I realized that there was more than an hour delay between the vendors closing and the dancing beginning. I could have eaten with Jane and Paul, I'm sure, but honestly, I was tired of walking, talking, eating, and I decide to come on home. I found Jane, and told her that I was going home, and we visited for a while, then Paul came back to their stall. He was understanding, but made me promise that next year I will plan better. I have a "date" for a year from now! LOL! Now, if only I were so in demand that it were necessary to schedule that far ahead. I think I'll just pretend that's the case. Yeah, that feels good!
I didn't get to see the Horse Whisperer. I didn't get to taste the biscuits and gravy. I didn't get to see/do anything I thought I would. My timing was just stinko, but I didn't really plan, either, so I can only blame myself. That doesn't mean I didn't have a lot of fun. It was lots of fun. If nothing other than simply people watching, it was worth it!
I saw a lot of people that were honest-to-god cowboys and cowgirls. They were the ones in plain ol' Levi's or Rider's, shirts ranging from solids to plaids and usually with little adornment, boots, hats, concho belts or leather belts with buckles worthy of the object of the phrase "buckle polishing" referring to close slow dancing, and occasional bolos or kerchiefs. These folks look good. They look comfortable in their skins, both the real ones and the "skins" of their clothing.
Then there is the other group .... the drugstore cowboys or what I call the "plastic cowboys." These are the folks who show up in rhinestone studded denims (sometimes folded up or [shudder] cut off somewhere between the knee and their boot tops or [shudder again] tucked into their boot tops.), flouncy lace blouses, high heeled boots (actually stilleto heeled) that have no resemblance to something that a cowboy would wear, belts decorated with glitz and bling, hats similarly decorated and gaudy (one had a hat with something that looked like part of a feather boa attached to the outer edge of the brim, GAH!), and often wearing designer dark glasses. Sigh. Obviously, I'm describing the women, and if they have men with them, those guys are usually wearing khakis or dockers and polo shirts! Uh-huh. Now, with apologies to my friends and family members who live there, most of those folks are from Texas. You know as soon as they start talking. The accent is unmistakable. It amazes me. You'd think the Texans would be more genuine in their style when they dress "western." Whatever, it makes for an interesting day of people gazing! That is one of my favorite pass times, anyway!
I'm actually considering going back tomorrow. I have to go on an errand close to there, and I have a free pass. I forgot to buy my traditional bag of kettle corn. Why not?