She Called Him Cowboy...He Called Her Slim

It all started 34 years ago...after a Rodeo in Turlock, California. Cliff walked over to me, smiled and asked me to dance. The rest is history and from that moment I called him Cowboy, he called me Slim. I fell in love with a CCA/RCA rodeo cowboy...his specialty, bull riding.

This photo was taken in 1976 (Tahoe, CA). I didn't go to all of Cliff's rodeos, but I did go to this one. The arena was nestled in a high meadow between two towering ridges covered with redwoods and ponderosa pine. We camped over night near the arena, and in the morning when the air was thick, you could hear the echoing moos and whinnies of the rodeo stock. Later that day, the air was filled with cowboy whistles, hoots and hollers, cheering crowds and moments like this...a total adrenalin rush! For me a cringing 8 seconds and complete cleansing of any oxygen left in my lungs replaced with a breath of fresh air followed by a sigh of relief. Rodeos, although not an every day event for me growing up, grew on me. And if I'm completely honest, I can say that I do miss the smells, the sounds and the excitement of it all, not being a part of it for, oh, about 30 years! But the first sound of a snort on a horses muzzle, sucks me back into fond rodeo memories.

Here is an amazing thing. After examining his photo, Cliff said, "There is something real familiar about the hat I was wearing." I looked at him and said, "Oh my goodness...can it be? No, it can't be! yes it is...yes, it's the very one stashed in your closet!!!" Here it is folks. Cliff's rodeo hat worn in the photo above. A little more dust on it than from the hair raising, bull riding days, but it's the very one.

Oh...and looky there! A bow! A bow?? Don't tell Cliff he was wearing a bow all this time!

Yes, a little more worn, tattered, and oh my heavens, a crease where there shouldn't be. Cliff will never wear this hat again, but somehow it's one of those things he just can't throw away. Bull riding is Cliff's history, worth noting...worth feeling the brittle straw and the disintegrating binding...worth remembering. Yep, I called him Cowboy and he called me Slim.