My Favorite Cowboy

There’s no doubt in my mind, my favorite cowboy, is my brother, Danny. 

Browsing through WordPress, I stumbled on a prompt; the idea of the day, to write about; MY FAVORITE.

I began to think about that: which is my favorite beach, my favorite hotel, my favorite wave, photograph, painting. No, I just couldn’t come up with anything, because as soon as an image surfaced, another would compete.

Then I thought about my brother. He’s my one and only. I can definitely call him my favorite. And he happens to be a cowboy.

I’ve travelled as far as Oklahoma to watch him ride. He’s a team roper. This involves two cowboys, one that ropes the head of the steer, while the other ropes the back heels. With a short burst of energy, swinging their lasso, galloping wide open, they track and capture the animal, while racing against the clock. It’s a cattleman’s skill, turned into a competition.

I saw many similarities in cowboys and surfers. They like to congregate. They do what they do and then they talk about it. They dress alike. We wear bathing suits and flip-flops. They wear blue jeans, long sleeve shirts and boots. We wear sun screen and they wear cowboy hats. Their spectators are in the stands, while ours are on the beach. They chase rodeos like we chase waves. And at the end of the day, we all like to kick back and watch the sun set.This rare picture of us together was taken at a local, annual fair, 2009. It was a blast. Not only watching the ropers, bull riders and clowns, but just being with my brother.

The beach and cowboy trail rarely intersect. That’s just the way it is. We would have to go out of our way to visit one another. I’ve been meaning to look him up.

A note of interest: he thinks surfing is scary!