08-24-2013   Leave a comment

Before I start to write this posting I’m required to put on my cowboy hat, my boots, and my big ugly belt buckle.  Don’t misunderstand me, I am not a Country & Western fan in any sense of the word.  Unfortunately my born and bred Texan better-half has been a life long fan of the genre. She roams from room to room through the house every day, turning on multiple radios to blare that good old down home music every effing minute.  It keeps me out of the house doing fifty percent more yard work than I would normally do.  Maybe that’s her sneaky Texas way of making me work harder.  If I’ve learned nothing from our years together I have learned to keep a close watch on her,  Texans are sneaky!

I had a wonderful day off today because my crazy better-half and her even crazier daughter are off on another adventure.  They left early today to attend the Country-fest Concert at Gillette Stadium in Foxboro, Massachusetts.  I’m sure they were cheering all the way to Mass but what they didn’t know was just how loud I was cheering to see them go.  An entire day without listening to music that makes me cringe.  I worked in the yard for a good part of the day with my IPod blasting a wide variety of Blues, Rock, and NO C&W.

I was receiving text messages and photos for most of the day telling me just what I was missing.  I was missing endless traffic, Country music fans by the thousands, and an endless number of drunken bums wearing their boots and cowboy hats.  I’ll just bet that ninety percent of those crazies have never been on a ranch or had a close and personal conversation with a horse. A whole lot of wannabes trying to impress a few young ladies with their swagger and y’all’s.

I had a great day until eleven pm when I was awakened from my blissful sleep by two tipsy cowgirls making their way home from Boston.  My better-half was so horse I could barely understand her and all of the laughing and screaming in the background didn’t help either.  She called to let me know when she’d be arriving and that she was going to "wake my ass up" whether I liked it or not.  I mildly threatened to end her life, said goodnight, and went back to sleep.  She arrived home in the wee hours, fell into bed, and barely woke me at all.

Waking up this morning I opened one eye to see if she was prowling around.  Next to me under a huge pile of blankets and pillows I found what was left of my better-half.  She was snoring like a truck driver, smelled like beer, and was dreaming about Kenny Chesney I’ll bet.  Ya, I know at least one cowboy crooner’s name.  Please don’t hold that against me, my survival instinct requires I know enough Country names and trivia to keep her happy.

Yee haw y’all !

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