Shootin' the Breeze

and random targets

Archive for the month “August, 2017”

Not Impressed

Last week, I went swimming at the rec center.  I was doing butterfly stroke, the Fly, flyin’ through the water.

When I stopped at the end of the lane after a lap, or half a lap, a young boy, appearing about ten or eleven, was standing on the deck of the pool, above me.

He said, “That was some good swimming!  I saw that in the Olympics.  Were you in the Olympics?”

I said, “Thanks.  I was in the Senior Olympics.”

He looked at me with obvious disappointment.

“Oh,” he said and walked away.  I guess my answer was not what he hoped for.

Me neither.  It was not the answer I wish I could give.

If given another chance, so as not to disappoint any young admirers, I will say, “Yes, I was in the Olympics.  Would you like my autograph?”

I might add, with feigned humility, “I also play for the Broncos.  I left my Super Bowl ring in the locker so I won’t lose it in the pool.”

That would make the kid’s day, to meet someone as admirable as me.

It would make my day too.

P.S.  I thought of how to sign my autograph — Walter Mitty.

Adios, Pard

photo rodney and al

Rodney was, among other things, a Mountain Man, and his wishes were for his ashes to be spread at some of his favorite places in the mountains.

A gun collector, knife maker, and history buff, Rodney enjoyed going to Mountain Man Rendevous.  He had the outfit.  He had a great knowledge of American Indian culture, such as making a sweat lodge.  His spirituality included a connection with red hawks.  Back in the 70s, when the TV series Centennial was filmed around here, Rodney was an extra, playing an Indian riding a horse bareback.   Movie star!

Rodney enjoyed countless camping trips, ranging from sleeping under the stars in a bedroll to traveling in a Mercedes RV with his devoted wife, Debra.

Debra is a New York Times Best Selling author, who wrote about Rodney as an example of exhibiting genuine cowboy values.  He used to manage a ranch at a remote location, staying in a primitive cabin during the winter, taking care of the livestock.  You could depend on Rodney.   So could our nation.  He served in the military.

Rodney encouraged me to join the Single Action Shooting Society, found the kind of rifle I needed, and told me about the Hell on Wheels competition in Cheyenne.  He even suggested that my wife join SASS as well, using her alias, Miss Sugar.  She did.

Debra and Rodney regularly made trips to Santa Fe, relishing in the SouthWest culture there.  Sugar and I went with them a couple times.  Rodney knew a lot about Santa Fe, so we got much more out of the trips than if we’d gone alone.  They built a beautiful Santa Fe style home in the hills above Fort Collins, decorated like a gallery of Western art and artifacts.  There, in the place he loved, with the woman he loved, he died.

Adios, amigo.  Happy trails to you, until we meet again.

rodney

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