Cows and Cowboys

Going West

Observation of the Day!

January 7, 2008

Interstate 35 goes directly south. Now we turn to the west and cowboy/cattle country.

We had dinner last night at Cracker Barrel. It has one of the highest customer counts in the foodservice industry. Frankly, I think the food is overrated, but it serves its customer base extremely well.

Quiet observation is my business. And yes, I do make gross generalizations and stereotype everything. Cracker Barrel customers are the poster children for obesity and AARP in America. However, this was not my prime observation that evening.

There was a young man, probably in his late twenties/early thirties, sitting with his wife, a stringy haired overly blonde woman. It is about eight o’clock on Sunday evening. He resembles sort of a young Garrison Keillor. In his ear was a BLUETOOTH? Phone. Why on earth does he need a Bluetooth? I doubt if he would be getting an important call at anytime, let alone on a Sunday in a Cracker Barrel. He is not as cool and important as he thinks. First of all if he were cool, he would not be in a Cracker Barrel.

But I digress!

In the lands of Oklahoma and West Texas, there are real cowboys: Ten gallon hats, Levies, big belt buckles, western shirts, boots, pickup trucks, country music, and BBQ. They could still drive the cattle north.

We headed west on Interstate 40. Oklahoma and West Texas are windy, brown and vast vistas of flatland prairies. We passed a sign that announced this is where the Chisholm Trail crossed. Old road meets new road. It was not hard to imagine the cattle drives of the late 1800s, heading north to the markets and railheads. One of the best books and movies about this land of the 1800s was Lonesome Dove. I tried to visualize the scenes of a hundred years ago, with cows and cowboys heading north.

We passed through Amarillo and jogged southwest to go to Roswell NM to see my niece and her one month old fourth boy. His name is Sammy, by the way.

The last of West Texas is real cattle country. Hwy 60 goes straight away next to a railroad track that goes straight away. The land is even flatter and the horizon is more endless. The only landmarks are the giant silos filled with grain and feed. We pass through towns named Hereford (Home of the mustangs and the fillies) and Bovina. On the other side of the rail tracks are huge feedlots. I wonder if I am passing by a future steak dinner?

We cross into New Mexico. The trip to Roswell is across some really vast desolate land with no cell phone signal. There are parts of New Mexico that are really beautiful with mountains and trees. Yet, there is still a certain beauty in this flat prairie land. It is always in the eyes of the beholder. We are often to quick to denigrate unfamiliar places.

We arrive in Roswell safe and sound. Yes, folks there is a UFO industry in Roswell.

Have a nice Day.

Sam