Way Past Rodeo

Call-Inbound: # 518

Date: 18 June, 2002

Time: :02:48:32

Transcript: W4W as Recorded  (W4W = ‘word for word’)

ID:  Anon.

You know I used to break horses.

I never knew that…

Oh, yes. Of course I was younger, stronger, much more agile… ‘flex-I-bile’ is what we called it…fucking tough… and knew how to take-a-fall…most often a Hard fall, then get up and kick that stallion in the balls, if you got enough yourself.

You done that? How many?

Lost count, but whatever it is, multiply by two, because when I did it, I made sure I got both.

Were there a lot of HARD falls?

Is ‘Bone-breakin’ hard enough? How about ‘bone shatterin’? is that hard enough. Internal bleeding?!…how’s that?!

Serious? What kind? How many?

I suspect records have been suppressed, but I would guess: Neck, collar, shoulder, sternum, spine, pelvis, femur, tibia, ankle…a handful of humerus, radius, ulnas, and carpus…

Concussions?

Counting whiplash?

If you must…

Then, I lost count.

Damn. And you bring this up in conversation, why?

I felt I was properly prepared to wed this woman. This local gal…

Why this woman in particular?

I can’t seem to tolerate a passive foe…

And you feel ridin’ the circuit ‘prepared you’?  How so?

You can never be fully prepared, but you CAN learn to Anticipate. Reflex reactions…snap! Like that!  Quick twitch! You know if she turns to throw ya’, you gotta shift yer weight. Fend her motion. But you know you will hit the ground at some point. Accept it as part of the ride. Can’t ride‘em all out….

Well, yeah, but it’s a proven fact that reflexes do slow down…significantly!….slow down with age.

Which is why you gotta gauge. I chose an older date as my stable-mate. Tight quarters, cautious moves…what more could a man ask for?

A divorcee, is she?

Probably.

Probably! Does she bring along her own hay?

Yes, but what's...

So maybe she’s someone… ‘some other’ rider couldn’t conquer?

No riders stronger than me, I gotta believe… so if it’s me that it takes, then its me that deserves it. Or else deserves to take the fall. I’ll take it either way.

Could be the fall of them all…this she-dervish of yours….

Could be…

…but back to reality,this divorcee.. maybe, he, this prior stud,  just grew tired of it because she didn’t provide the same buck, and he wasn’t done ‘young-buckin’.

I imagine his time will come. They put sad, old studs out to graze. At that age they'd be grazin’ on dry gray grasses anyways, if you know what I mean.

VO - (Cut. Rephrase that. Give me another take for edit, and think before you speak…people do listen to this shit…let’s try to maintain all eight, shall we?)

Ok. Let’s just say, this ex…this COW-boy… might be good for a few more rides, before he finds himself a goon at a kid’s pony party.

At least Ponies are safe.

Ponies are goddamn BORING!  …round, and round…might as well get on the merry-go-round.

And the options…?

Any horse is yer friend if you got carrots or sugar…

And they don’t bite…

Oh hell, that’s bound to happen in the moment, and it’s alright. Beats a horse that can’t open it’s mouth to begin with….carousel, ha!…and then, what’s this old horse, put out to back pasture, to do within view of frolicking breeding fields, yearning for the day when he could jump a fence with ease? … but no more… Can’t see the sticks nor posts to begin with…never mind, Jump!!! - the damn-thing.

So I sense you’re through?

With the Rodeo? Way past…what’s it to you anyway?

Sooo…we hear the Rodeo is back in town!

That’s why I’m here.

How’s that?

To remind everyone what the West, used to be like!

Shitty Images

You spew shit until you die and see what sticks and see what dries. That, that got washed away, is gone for good. Yet, good shit lingers, then stains...for all seasons…remains eternal for no good reason, but for happenstance and protein. Worshipped for simply ‘being there’ by future generations….images captured in raptured imagination...until they, too, are forgot, and then what, is it just a blot?

NOTHING VENTURED

Ether Publishing Competition - "8 Stories in 8 Days"
Topic: ADVENTURE 
(-500 words)

“So this is your idea of an adventure, is it?”

He knew he’d have an uphill battle just getting Doreen to join him on the road trip, and in order to do so, he ‘sold it’ for all it was worth. The culture, the food, the art, the romance…!

But, now, hoses broke and fluids drained, they found themselves stranded well outside of Santa Fe and a long, long way from civilization. Doreen was doing a slow burn in the hot sedan and he had no answers to cool her.

“Why don’t you step out of the car and get some air? There’s a bit of a breeze starting up, and what an incredible view!” He’d hoped the epic scope might inspire her to take a deep enriching breath, and relieve some toxic temper.

“Redheaded, fair and freckled in the high noon sun, Vincent?!  Do you know how long I’d last before I blistered?! About ten seconds!!! And the only view I see is a long empty highway running off into eternity. Have any ideas how we achieve Rescue? Any ideas how we survive?”

“None. I either walk out of here, or someone drives by.”

“You walk out and what? You’d leave me here to bake like some low-and-slow chicken in an all day oven? And exactly how many cars have we passed in the last two hours?

“I don’t know, maybe a dozen all tolled? I mean, there IS traffic. This IS a highway, you know. Why are you shaking your head?”

“A total of Four, Vincent.”

“Towing trucks troll these roads. I’m sure one…”

“No you’re not. And those four cars?…not one was a tow truck.”

“That’s a good thing, I think…odds are, there’s bound to be one along soon.”

“Odds are fucking NIL, Vincent! …I hope there’s music out here…”

“No! Save the battery! No radio! Worse case scenario, we may need the  headlights to signal after dark. And go easy on the water! Save all resources, best you can…”

“Well this adventure is getting better all the time. I’m willing to say, right here, Vincent, that any goodwill and trust you had earned with me has shriveled up in this heat. I accept my responsibility for agreeing to this, but we’ve reached that point. This is where we separate.”

“You want to walk or wait?”

“No choice. I’ll wait, you walk. If someone stops, we’ll come for you. Which way?”

“I suppose back toward Santa Fe. We passed a town back there…”

“If you’re referring to those trailers on the hillside, that was hardly a town…”

“Well someone lives there, and that’s what we need. Somebody to help us get out of here.”

Upon his return he found it. The note read:

Vincent,

A man named Simon stopped and is taking me away. He is elegant, strong and wise. I know I said we’d come for you, but I can’t. I’ve started the real adventure of my life. Tell everyone I’m happy.

Thank you.