Al the Barber

Al had been the town Barber for as long as anyone could remember. He had been cutting Cap’s hair for over 20 years. It wasn’t that hard to do really because it was more of a trim on the sides only. As the years went on Cap was more and more follicle-ly challenged. Cap blamed that on Ely, and ranching in general.

As any small town Barber will attest to, sometimes things get slow. There’s just not a steady stream of men who need their hair cut every day. Al had taken to keeping his shop open only a couple days a week, the other days of the week he used for golf.

It had been the topic of discussion at the last couple of Sunday coffee club meetings that Al had taken to drinking a little more. Even being open a couple days a week, he wasn’t busy all day. When customers weren’t in the shop, he kept a little cot in the back room and would get a nip of bourbon, then take a nap on the cot. When the front door opened, the bells tied to it would jingle and wake him up. He would come from the back room with a broom in his hand, but everyone knew what he was doing.

Cap expressed some concern that maybe someone should have a talk with Al. The coffee club agreed, but Cap came up with a different idea.

Al’s shop was in the old part of downtown. There were display windows out front where you could put shoes, or clothes just like any small town department store, but being a Barber Shop there was nothing to display…not most of the time anyway. Cap enlisted Ely and a couple others to help him on a Thursday afternoon when Al was supposed to be open for business, but had taken to using his cot instead of cutting hair. Afer removing their boots, they slowly opened the front door and Cap reached his hand inside grabbing the bells to keep them from making noise.

They crept into the shop. Al was a light sleeper, as the bells had been waking him up for the last few years. They sneaked, quiet as Commanches, in their socked feet, to the back room of the shop. There, sure enough, they found Al on his cot. Each man took a corner of the cot and gently lifted it off of the ground making sure to keep it even so as not to disturb their sleeping friend. They smoothly carried the cot to the front of the store and placed it, ever so gently in the front window display. Ely took a couple flowers they had picked and put them on Al’s chest. They almost couldn’t contain their excitement! You’ve never seen old men giggle like school girls until it comes to a great prank on a friend! They hurried out the back door and almost all collapsed into laughter.

After regaining control they rushed around to the front of the building to inspect their work. It was a sight! There was Al, passed out on his cot, hands folded on his chest with a couple flowers resting there too. To the eye that didn’t know any better…Al had passed on! The men sat down on the bench across the street, put their boots back on and prepared to be entertained. As people passed by, they stopped and paid their respects to Al. Some men even removed their hats! After a while a crowd had started to gather out in front of Al’s Barber Shop to attend his wake.

Right about that same time is when the fun started. Al’s nip of bourbon had caused him to have a dream of some sort. This dream led to him reach up and scratch his head…two women almost fainted. When this commotion started, their light sleeping friend was awakened to find himself on display in the front of his shop, with admirers all around…some of which had almost fainted. Next he found the flowers on his chest and it was at that point that Al wondered if he had died! When he stood up off of the cot and could see Cap, Ely and two other men leaning on each other to keep from falling because they were laughing so hard on the bench across the street, it all became clear. He jumped down from the display, grabbed his hat and ran out the front door of his shop heading towards the bench across the street. Cap, Ely and the others scrambled for their trucks and sped away before being caught.

The culprits are all looking for new a Barber now…their pony tails are getting long!

All Horses Go To Heaven

Well....we tried as hard as we knew how. It's nobody's fault. Baxter the wonder horse developed an abcess in his neck related to the temporary trach. Basically, the outside of the wound healed before the inside did and trapped bad stuff in the wound that caused complications. I thought we were making progress, then all of the sudden, we went backwards. The Doctors at Clinic at the Crossings, in Longview felt there was no way for him to come back from it. Now I start a new chapter in my roping career. This sport ain't for the weak of heart and like my dad has said a million times, "If this was easy... everybody would do it." Everything happens for a reason, and I know the Good Lord is guiding my path. I'm following wherever he sends me and believing it will be alright. Everything is done according to his plan. I was given that horse for as long as I was supposed to have him and now I am ready for whatever is next. At the end of every story, a new one begins.

Walkin' the Walk, not just talkin' the talk,

Walker

Mother's Day

A busted knee, a stitch or two,
A spanking now and then,
A furrowed brow at one young man,
Caught somewhere he shouldn’t have been.

Reassuring words, a worried call,
She raised me every day.
She took me to church every Sunday
And taught me how to pray.

I wish I had a dollar for,
Every sack lunch that she made,
I wish I could give her $100,
For the late night rodeos when she stayed.

Here’s to our Moms, all of them,
This is their special day,
Kiss’em on the cheek, you’re not too old,
They raised you to be that way!

Happy Mother’s day to all…see you down the road,
Walker

A Better Job

“You know, sometimes I think we’re crazy for doing this to make a livin?”

This was a statement that had never before come out of Cap’s mouth. At least to Ely’s knowledge anyway. He had to investigate.

“What else would you do for a livin’ ‘cept this?” he asked.

“Well, I could do almost anything. I’m not lazy, and a man who’ll work, will never be hungry and that’s a fact. I could go into town and get me a regular job, where nothing is trying to either hook me, or depend on me to survive.”

This was a conversation that began to take place while a fence crossing a creek, called a “water gap”, was being repaired after rain had washed it out. This was a notoriously hated job in Cap’s book and this had caused his mood to sour. It was perfectly normal….if you knew him at all. Ely decided not to waste this opportunity.

“You sure could," replied Ely. You know I was reading the paper last week and they had some job listings in there. How about the city street department? I can testify that they need help alright. They ain’t fixed a city street in 20 years or better. Our gravel roads are smoother than them paved ones in town. You could iron that deal out for them right quick.”

A few minutes passed.

“Hey! I also saw an ad in the paper you might be interested in. It said the county needed a new Dog Catcher. Heck that’s gotta be an easy job. All you need is a package of hot dog weenies and a piece of rope in your pocket and you’re set. That’s how you catch Sweetie to load her every time we work cows. You’ve got that job down too.”

More silence. At this point Cap was hip deep in creek water, with about a half roll of barbed wire with a rod through the center above his head, wading to the other side. Stringing new strands of wire at a water gap meant a good rain passed through. It was hard to complain about rain, but easy to complain about fence work. Thus the doubled edged sword of ranching presented itself again.

“Ely, I’ve made my mind up about my profession.”

“Well what’s it gonna be?” asked Ely. “I can get the number down there to City Hall for you when we get back to the headquarters if you like.” He said with a big grin.

“Nope. Not gonna need it. I figure this is the job I was meant to do all along.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Here I get to be the road superintendent, the head dog catcher, the foreman over all jobs big and small, plus in addition to being foreman I get the added satisfaction of being a hired hand just like you. Yep, this is the best of both worlds here Ely. I just had to realize it on my own that’s all.”

“Glad you got to that conclusion by yourself Cap.”


Happy Cinco de Mayo mi amigos,
Walker

Ranch Philosophy 202

The old pickup rolled slowly down the ranch road at not much more than an idle. It was a beautiful spring day in South Texas. The temperature was mild with a bright sun shining. This was a rare time of year when everything was green and starting over again. In just 30 short days, most of the green would either be brown or beginning to wilt. The summers lately had just been unbearable. Cap and Ely rode without saying a word, listening only to the truck squeak and rattle. They were just taking it all in.

“Reckon what this country looked like 100 years ago?” asked Ely. He was prone to pondering far off things and places. It was just his nature as a curious soul.

“I hear tell it was mostly prairie. Not a tree in sight for miles in some places. Just nothing but grassland and some maverick cattle scattered about.” Replied Cap. “From what I understand this coastal territory was full of cattle that nobody claimed. They were free for the taking, if you were able, that is.”

“I wish I coulda lived back then. Just ridin’ and checkin’ things everyday. Heck, just goin’ about the everyday chores probably took most of the day. From the time you woke up in the mornin’ till you went to bed at night was very primitive. Just think of all the things we take for granted nowadays. They couldn’t just turn on a faucet and get fresh water, you know, things like that. It was a rougher life. Guess that’s why people didn’t live to be all that old back then on account of them workin’ so hard just to survive everyday life.”, observed Ely.

After that he got quiet. They rode a few more minutes in silence. Sometimes not talkin’ was the loudest communication ever. A man could listen to what the world was tellin’ him instead of someone else. Cap spent a few minutes thinking about what Ely had said.

“You know Ely, I reckon you’re right. Things back then were probably pretty hard. But I guess it’s all relative.”

“How do you mean?” asked Ely.

“Well, remember last fall when I had to spend a week in Austin? I went up there for that Cattle Raiser’s Meeting. I stayed in a fancy hotel, and ate big meals every night. I was really livin’ it up for a day or two. Then it started to wear on me. At night the noise was loud since my hotel was right next to a freeway, and with all of those city lights you couldn’t see not a single star when you looked up at night. By the end of the week my nerves were shot. I’ll tell you, when that week was over, I drove 80 miles an hour to get home. That trip took years off of my life.”

What surprised Ely the most was Cap drivin’ 80 miles an hour. He only drove 70 one time that Ely knew of, and that was when Martha was in labor.

More silence for a few minutes. Just driving and riding.

“So I guess you goin’ to Austin and eatin’ good, but not likin’ the life up there is supposed to be like me wantin’ to go back in time to the old days?”

“Well kinda. I think you are following me.”

“Freeways and street lights botherin’ you are different than what a good hard day’s work puts on you.” Said Ely.

“No doubt. But what I’m getting’ at is that life is shortened by enough things out of our control. No sense in acceleratin’ it any by not doin’ what you want while you’re here.”

“Good point”

Giggle Water

It was first light on a Sunday morning, and that light was some kind of bright. Ely opened one eye and that eye pounded from the inside out. He laid in his bedroll with one eye open and slowly breathed without moving. Cap was still asleep. Every year Cap, Ely and some other boys went camping. They drove out to the middle of the ranch, pitched tents and put their bedrolls out. They hunted, fished, cooked and just generally spent some time together. They did what men do and what they had been doing since the beginning of time, just with a little more technology and with no grunting.

The night before they had sat around the campfire, told stories about horses and women…and their lack of control at times of either. They talked about the younger days and when that subject came around it seemed like a little nip of giggle water was needed. It not only tasted good, but it also kept the dew off of them as they sat around till the wee hours talking. The temperature had been down in the 40’s and although that’s not too cold when sitting around a fire, the bottle had come around more and more frequent as the night wore on.

Ely heard stirring from the other side of the tent and assumed it was Cap. They always shared a tent. Ely never questioned the arrangement because it had never been any different. No need to change what was working. Cap shifted on his bedroll and Ely hoped he would go back to sleep. He was trying to.

“Ely, are you up?” managed Cap in a weak voice.

“Barely.” Ely heard more shifting and into the field of vision of that one open eye came Cap. He looked like hell. His shirt was untucked, and his salt and pepper beard was scraggly after a couple days with no razor. Ely sat up in his bedroll on one elbow.

“Here.” Said Cap as he stood over Ely and handed him the bottle from the night before. “Take a drink of this.”

“No way. Not me. I don’t want to see that stuff til next year.” Said Ely.

“Yeah, you have to. No choice.”

“Not today I don’t.”

Cap reached in his pocket and pulled his knife. He pointed it at Ely. “Take a drink or I’ll cut ya.” Ely opened the other eye and grimaced. Cap had a look like he just might do it.

“It’ll help, and I know you feel bad. Just think of it like medicine. Except your momma probably never threatened you with a knife.”

Ely couldn’t believe it. After all these years, no matter how mad Cap had been at him from time to time he had never threatened harm. Ely didn’t see how he had any choice. He took the bottle from Cap and managed a small sip. It was horrible, although he didn’t remember it tasting that bad the night before. He handed the bottle back to Cap who had a funny look on his face.

Cap took the bottle in one hand and stared it down with an evil eye. Two adversaries had just met. He took the bottle and put it to his lips, but just couldn’t do it. He handed his knife to Ely with a smile on his face.

“Now you hold it on me.”


Walker

Cowboy Line

Here's one for you today boys....

Cowboy Line

He bought himself the weanlin’ colt,
Fall of ’33.
Deep sorrell with a flaxen mane,
Just as pretty as he could be.

When he swung up to the middle,
That very first time,
Pretty was the very last thing,
That was on his mind.

This bronc here was a waspy one,
At first light every day,
But he pitched his rope on him first,
When catchin’ cows for pay.

He run a yearlin’ bull one day,
Across a prairie flat,
And ole sorrelly he was never lost,
Just knockin’ out his tracks.

When everyone else pulled up,
Just hoping to see a wreck,
All they saw was ole sorrelly logged off,
And he just had his hat tipped back.

He could pull just like a switch engine,
I mean locomotive style,
And although sometimes things got tight,
They never got too wild.

For 15 total years or so,
They carried on this way.
Even when the grain was short,
And there wasn’t quite enough hay.

Then one day someone caught ole sorrel,
And led him from his pen.
The led him right to a part of town,
Where he had never been.

These last few years he’d had a break,
From workin’ everyday.
Seems he seldom saw his master,
In that early light of day.

When the boys hitched him up,
It seemed ole sorrelly knew,
What his last job would be….
He knew just what to do.

He pulled that old black wagon,
Out to the edge of town.
Real slow, smooth and even,
His head the whole way down.

I think he knew just one last time,
He carried his old boss.
And people can say just what they want to,
I think ole sorrelly felt the loss.

He lived out the rest of his days,
In kinda cowboy lore.
The boys never figured out why he did what he did…..
He’d never pulled a wagon before.

We could all be so lucky to,
Once in our life find….
One thing that stayed loyal to the end…..
The end of our cowboy line.

copyright 2002 Justin Walker