Microphones

Photograph by Amanda Morgan

I spent last Sunday doing something very out of character for me.  I spent the entire day at a Ropin'.  You can't say "rop-ing" it's not right... you must pronounce it Ropin'.  Glad we got that cleared up.  The Ropin' was a benefit for Heath and again the cowboys didn't disappoint.  Heath even made an appearance wearing his real clothes.   It was the first time he'd worn jeans in almost 3 months.  He looked good.  He looked normal.  He looked (as one of  our smart alec friends put it) like a "family of Mexicans had moved outta them jeans".  Not to worry, the good people from Sarepta and Ivan are trying fatten him up with tons of food being brought just about every other day.  This is the southern way - you can be hurt, but not hurt and skinny.  We love our neighbors and friends.
I missed a once in a lifetime opportunity at the Ropin'. I will never forgive myself for it either.  I missed my father giving a speech.  In a microphone.  Without stuttering.  Kids will probably study about it in history.  It will be right up there with Abe Lincoln's and JFK's speeches.  I even heard that he might be thinking of becoming a professional speaker.  He could be hired out for parties and stuff.  After the "Great Warford Oratory" the Ropin' got underway.  The whole day was another example of just how kind and giving people are.  I was touched to see almost every rider come by on their horse and tell Heath how glad they were to see him or just give him a big grin and then swallow the large lump in their throat.
An act of kindness late in the day made my brother the proud owner of one the saddles all those ropers came to win. A very kind gentleman that won a raffled saddle gave it right back to Heath.  This man was a perfect stranger.  His kindness won't be forgotten.
As I, the black sheep, sat and watched all day the riders and the sport my people love, you'd think I would start to get the fever.  The wrangler fever - as I like to call it.  I will admit that I can appreciate the dedication and skills it takes. This sport ain't for the sissies of the world.  First you really need to know how to ride - and ride well.  Then you have to be able to do two things at the same time- which totally disqualifies me.  I was, however, very interested in one part of the roping and I'm pretty sure that I could excel in.  I was very impressed with that lady in the box with the microphone.  Oh my-  how I need one of those.  There's power in that microphone.  I need one real bad.  She has the best job ever- hands down.  When she called out a name, they all listened.  She was a woman after my own heart.  So, whenever you see Jeremy tell him all I want for Christmas is: one arena, 87 cowboys to boss around, and a microphone.  That's all I want.
Thank you again to the men and women that made this day successful.  And to you - lady in the box with the all powerful  microphone: I love you and your microphone.

'Til Tomorrow