Party

 

What a great night. Good, honest, straight-up, friendly people, tasty food, plenty of drink and a lone busker to boot. 

He was out of Nashville, he told me, and I tipped him for the tale. The rest of the crew were rodeo stars, cattlemen, judges and all else in between. The occasion?

A church couple's 40th wedding anniversary. I listened away to stories of "out of Cheyenne," and "blood was spilling out of her shoe after a horse span on her toe. So we took her to ER and I cut the toe out of her boot and she was racing barrels the next day." All very Florence Nightingale. Thanks, MC.

With that, a glass raised and a salute to LSP, "He's got a story too, tell him about your hip!" Three screws in the upper femur and an Arab later the tale was told, and kudos to me, badly damaged by a horse like everyone else in the room. But whatever.

Such a good evening, and here's the thing. These people are not demonstrative, politically. They consider it bad manners, but I'll tell you this, they are mighty pissed about the state of the nation. Let the reader understand.

Ride on,

LSP