action and adventure

My good friend over at alittleleeway has issued a blog challenge for this month with the theme "Action and Adventure".  Normally, this kind of challenge would have my name all over it, but I've done most of the action and adventuring I can take earlier in the summer, and I'd like to stay home more this month. Still, I'm in like Flynn and I'll come up with something, even if I have to revisit scenes of past glory.

I did have one adventure which I've not yet blogged about, and that is going to the Cheyenne Frontier Days in Wyoming last week and attending the rodeo there which is called "The Daddy of 'em (sic) All".  The husband grew up out there for the most part and has family in Cheyenne, plus he loves Frontier Days, rodeos, and all things cowboy.  He owns many cowboy hats which look stiff and uncomfortable, although he says they're not. But I love the husband and occasionally have to go along to get along, as we all do. Not to mention that husband bought me a pair of cowboy boots a couple of years ago, and this is the only conceivable place I could see myself wearing them and not feeling ridiculous. Going also meant that I could also spend time with my son and DIL in Colorado, a win in any book.

The rodeo was quite the spectacle, and it was somewhat interesting for an hour or so (it went on for three hours), but I couldn't get over the fact that most of the events hinged on animals feeling some pain.  The way that they get broncos and bulls to buck like wild animals on command--if you didn't know, most people probably do--is to tie a rope very tightly around their male privates.  This sends them into a frenzy of what I can only assume is pain, causing them to buck wildly until the rope is pulled off, at which time they return to normal.  I found it disturbing. While I was extremely impressed with the way these people stayed on the animal, I cringed through the whole thing each and every ride.  I think humans should find ways of entertaining themselves that don't involve hurting animals one tiny bit.  The barrel racing was fine. The horses weren't getting hurt and I could even imagine that they were enjoying themselves. 

The whole day served mainly to remind me that I feel very out of step with large swaths of society--I don't like rodeos, country music, anything with rhinestones, fried foods, line dancing, horses, things with flags painted on them, wearing jeans when it's hot out, the fact that the Indian Village at Frontier Days was not called the Native American Village, and to tell you the God's truth, I'm not even a big fan of drinking beer. This large swath of society includes most of my extended family who I'm pretty sure think I'm from another planet.  I am surrounded by like-minded souls in my everyday life, and I am happy as a clam here in my liberal, animal loving, normal clothes wearing, non-gun-owning, avocado toast eating bubble.  Stepping out of that bubble is an adventure of a sort.  (I realize I resorted to a few stereotypes in this post, and for that I apologize.  If you like rhinestones and beer, that's ok with me.  If you like rodeos and line dancing, then by all means, do what you love, just please don't expect me to participate with enthusiasm.)