one of the things I love about Fiesta is the rodeo..the events at Earl Warren Showgrounds are always fun and a few hours on Saturday morning watching the riders rope calves...ahh..it clears my head....
so why should this year be any different? it wasn't..it was just as fun as years past and even moreso...I saw moreso people than last year..I saw some fine cowgirls..I gotta get me a cowgirl...and I will somehow...
I feel powerful today..like John Wayne in McClintock..a cattle baron..a dude..but not that kind of dude.. a few skinny creepy old white guys were looking at me funny and sitting close by....sorry partners, but this cowboy's barn door is CLOSED!! got it??? and even though John Wayne walked funny, I don't think it was because he was gay....besides, my hero has always been the Lone Ranger..although he did spend a lot of time with Tonto.....I'm confused now...
well....the day was cloudy and cool but lightened up before noon....I sit in bleacher seats..you get a great view of the arena and the action...teams of two riders try to rope a calf around the horns and around the legs..out of about 50 teams, only a few succeeded and one guy took a spill when his horse freaked out and bucked him off...it looks like the calves won the day!
and there's always some crazy ladies crying animal cruelty, although I didn't see them on Saturday..and of course, there was no cruelty at all...the arena is filled with a soft sand that that looked like a feather bed...
but the cowgirls...they're really fun to watch..they pat their horses on the rear, braid their manes.... these girls are fancy but down to earth..and I know they are conservative, every last one of them..probably can't even spell "progressive"....but that's what I love about them....life is simply defined..look at her..she's so pure..so tough yet so..so..so.....soft...
can I stay here for awhile, can I see your sweet sweet smile...old enough now to change your name, when so many love you, is it the same...it's the woman in you that makes you want to play this game....
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