I doubt your bumper sticker, sir.

Last evening, while out running errands, I found myself at a stoplight behind a shiny new black Cadillac Escalade EXT (the one that’s sorta kinda a pickup, but not really).

It was a nice ride, tricked out with big fat shiny chrome custom wheels, all the expensive add ons, and a sticker on the back window that said “Cowboy Up.”

Oh really? Cowboy up? Is that your philosophy on life? Are you sure, Mr. Driving a Luxury Vehicle in the Suburbs, that you are, in fact, ready to cowboy up?

Are you prepared to lose a thumb as you throw a loop around the head of a recalcitrant steer, dally up around the saddle horn and whoops, get a digit caught in the turn?

Are you ready to try to throw a calf while you currently nurse a broken rib, courtesy of the back forty of the calf that came down the chute just before?

Are you all set to trim a budding horn from a young cow only to hit the artery, thus shooting blood straight into your eye with force and velocity? And are you further ready to then take a hot branding iron and sear that bloody mess, leaving the smell and taste of burning flesh and blood lingering in the air?

Are you man enough to sink your arm up to the shoulder inside the back of a birthing cow to assist that mama with a backwards facing baby, and when that same mama cow prolapses her uterus out onto the ground, are you ready to shove that bloody mess back inside and stitch her up? (if you don’t know what I mean, I suggest you do a search on Confessions of a Pioneer Woman, she even posted photos of this horrifying event)

And are you ready to be bitten, kicked and thrown off a horse all in one day? Are you ready the haul hay? Are you ready to pray for rain and curse the wind? Are you ready to turn your hands to hamburger from stringing barbwire? Are you ready to face birth and death and life and manure and blood and saliva and the unpredictability of the life of a cowboy?

Are ya?

Cause you know what? I betcha you aren’t, actually, ready to Cowboy Up.

I might know a thing or two about it, and even I’m not really ready to Cowboy Up.

Not even in the suburbs.

About Author

Karen Fayeth

Comments

  • Anonymous

    You get ’em, girl!

    My brainless sticker of the morning:
    Trees are for hugging

    Really? Giving up toilet paper are we?
    And rejecting a renewable resource? And one of the last US export products?
    Emmett

  • Karen Fayeth

    Ya know Emmett, somehow I knew I’d hear from you on this one!

    Thanks!

    And I thought trees were for providing, you know, oxygen and stuff so I can breathe? Who knew their only purpose was for hugging?

  • Anonymous

    When we first got together, Emmett made me build fence.

    I don’t mind a chore or two, and I’m a pretty good horsewoman, but no thank you on the whole Cowboy Up-ping thing.

    And as regards Cadillac Boy, all I can say is TOOOOOOOOL.

    Elise

  • Old Bogus

    He couldn’t find one with all the words: Cowboy Upscale. They hire people do all that nasty work and just buy the hat!

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