I use the phrase “west of Laramie” in one form or another quite often. More than a few have asked where I get these things. Well, in this instance it is combination plagiarism and testimony to one of the greatest admen of all time, Ned Jordan. http://www.wcroberts.org/Paige_History/1923%20Jordan%20Playboy.htm
The next random thought of the day pertains to work and how much of our life we donate to it. More years ago than I care to remember, me and an old cow hand were stringing wire along a river bottom in south New Mexico. About half way into the project the old cow hand turned to me and said, “Working like this is a sure death but I reckon its a slower death than starvation.” That, my friend, sums up work quite nicely.
One of the great questions that has been riding heavy on the mind as of late pertains to what to do when I grow up. I suppose a decision had best be made soon as fifty is fast fading from view in the rear view mirror and sixty is looming at the top of the hill.
At some point the hope is that we can find a small piece of land somewhere near Silver City in New Mexico when it comes time to be put out to pasture. This is hands down some of the finest country I have yet to see. http://www.silvercity.org/
As you may have noticed from this post I have been doing a bit of soul searching and a great deal of reminiscing lately. That in turn has led to thoughts about a golden time in my life. The pay was about $20 a week less than anemic but the most enjoyable time ever spent working was during my “John Wayne” period.
I am not a cowboy, that is something you are born to and that takes a life time to learn. Still, I sure enjoyed playing one and all that that entails – rodeo, long hours in the saddle, long hours in the truck, long hours in the sun, long hours in the rain, a loyal dog and clear mountain mornings surrounded by some of God’s finest handiwork.
I suppose the only thing missing was the love of a good women. Well, there is an an old adage that good things come to those who wait. In my case the love of a good women was well worth the wait which has in turn led me to believe that somewhere down the road that 1931 Model A Ford truck awaits.
As I look back it seems like that chapter in my life was at least a hundred years and several lifetimes ago. That lifestyle is as far removed from the one I have today as the night life of San Francisco is from a Sunday morning in a Bisbee, Arizona, church.
A man has to play the hand he draws with a smile, not the one the other fellow has or the one he had last year. A life lived walking backwards is sure to end with a terrible tumble and one lived wishing for what you don’t have is one filled with misery.
I am a blessed man and really have nothing to complain about. The health is still pretty good, the pantry is full, the family is healthy, the house is warm and filled with laughter and I have a loving beautiful wife to share my life with and to come home to. In a nut shell I suppose the only real regret carried is the wonder of what might have been if life were lived according to His plan instead of mine.

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