Rodeo Girls!

Yeowww! Those girls can ride!!

I love rodeos. Big ones, small ones, local ones; it doesn't matter as long as there are horses, cattle, country music, and cowboys. I love worn in jeans, big belt buckles, hats that have seen better days, and boots that have trudged miles and kicked too much mud. I love cowboys with a big, tough handshake for men, and a wink and a smile for women. I love hearing George Straight and Patsy Cline and Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings over the loud speakers. I love bad rubber hot dogs and cold beer. And I love, love, love horses. When I retire, I'm going to go work at a rodeo: I can't think of a more fun place to be.

But then I went to Jackson Hole and they had a tribute to the former Miss Wyoming Rodeo Queens, as well as competitions with tough cowgirls who competed with the cowboys, and I have a newfound appreciation for the all the Girls of the Rodeo.

Out came Miss Wyoming in her Caribbean blue and white leather chaps with sequins glowing as she trotted her horse around the ring while managing to carry the American flag, wave, and smile at the same time. I know it's a lot of work to smile and wave and trot and look like you're thrilled to see all of those fans, and she glowed like a lightbulb in her blue and white outfit with pretty long blonde hair. She rode around in a circle for over 30 minutes smiling and waving without getting dizzy...which seemed like quite a feat for her. Even more amazing was our ability to watch her ride around in a circle for 30 minutes: a testimony to our ongoing fascination with beauty queens and our inability to entertain ourselves even if Pavlovian behavior is our only other option. To open the rodeo, she was joined by other Miss Wyoming Rodeo Queens going back to the 1970's. Apparently, in that day, they didn't trot into the ring: they bolted like the whole Cheyenne tribe was on their tail. They came roaring in, standing up in their stirrups, smiling like it hurt, and waving so fast that their hands looked like they were on electrical hookups. Every Miss Wyoming from the early years sped into that ring riding like their horse had an electric prod shoved in it's rear. I suppose that back in that day, riding and smiling and waving like you were a wind-up toy was the hot thing.

...Somebody needs to tell those women they can relax now...

Then the rodeo started, and out came the real cowgirls. These are the women who can rope a calf or run the barrels. These are the daughters of ranchers; the sisters of cowboys. Like the rodeo queens, they are pretty with long hair blowing in the wind, big earrings that don't fall off when they ride hard, bigger belt buckles on their tiny waists, and fitted shirts. ...Only they don't smile. They just bolt out of the gate, get into the ring, and get the job done all without losing their hats. And they do not ever wave.

I can only imagine what the rodeo cowgirls think of the rodeo beauty queens. I'm sure some of them are friends, while others just manage not to ride over one another and beat the daylights out of each other's pretty hats.

In any event, it was fun to watch. I felt a mixture of bizarre fascination combined with admiration combined with humor as I watched all the women of the rodeo. They could not have been more different: cowgirls riding hard and roping and competing for big bucks while the queens trotted and waved and smiled. ...Then again, they were all the same: women who love their horses and the lifestyle of the wild West; who love their big belt buckles and finally finding a hat that really fits with a saddle you can sit in for a long time. Women who, even when the rodeo ends, kiss their horses and wear their boots, and have a smile for somebody somewhere.

In the end, I guess we're not that different after all...