Statue found in the Cowboy Hall of Fame Museum |
Leather Saddle |
Images such as stagecoaches, barbed wire and shoot outs in the street were fuel for the juvenile imagination and became key in forming an admittedly unrealistic idea of a utopian pioneer world where the bad guys always wear black and the good guys always win in the eleventh hour.
So I admittedly had a silly and slightly romanticized idea of what I would discover in Texas, but was beyond surprised to find that the Capital of the American Cowboy was shockingly devoid of any cowfolk at all.
Ride 'Em Cowboy!! |
I had begun to believe that I would, in fact, not see a single Stetson during my stay, but was rescued from such disappointment by the appearance of an honest to goodness post-modern cowboy. I was enraptured and probably scared the daylights out of him when I asked for a picture, which he graciously (southern gentleman, after all. Never refuse a damsel in distress!) agreed.
Below is a copy of that moment that brought such joy and will live in my mind for years to come as the day I found my own John Wayne to rescue me from ho-hums of modern cookie-cutter normalcy.
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My Hero! |
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