I Went to the Rodeo

According to legend, we were put on this earth with animals and all other kinds of life, over which we were given mastery. Last night, I went to see in just what kinds of ways we were using this gift. Actually, all of the entertainment, other than the juvenile back and forth between our 'miked-up' host and a moronic clown, was a display of what used to be extremely practical skills. Why do we need to ride on a bull? Ok, other than to tame the heart of an indian princess, no reason, but all of the horse riding and steer roping used to be quite handy. I suppose it all still is in certain states, but back in the Good Old West our lives depended on it, if I'm imagining correctly.

We (My boss/aunt's family and my mother and father) got to Huntingdon's fairgrounds a little early in time to grab some funnel cakes and sausages and settle in with an acceptable view of the dirt field. We watched in anticipation as young cowboys and girls locked up their minds. Horses stirred. A bronco banged against his metal cage. You could tell the cowboys from the local men with cowboy hats on. They looked about the same, but the cowboys walked with a strut that suggested that each step was the most important thing they could be focusing on. The locals or the family members of the cowboys that had never dared to ride a bronco or a bull walked with their shoulders sunken, and you could see much more of their eyes than their face. You don't have to guess who would get out of who's way in the concession concourse.

I sat around eating in the audience. When would the bull riding begin, we wondered. Would they do that technique where they yank the steer to the ground and tie up his feet? Suddenly, we saw some banners rise and the cowgirls burst onto the field atop their pounding horses. First up!!? Adverstisments...

Actually, first up, after that, was bronco riding. My little cousin didn't understand why this was something people were doing. Why did we want to see this. His mother tried to explain it to him. "The cowboy is going to try to stay on the horsies back and the horse is going to try to get him off" "Why?" he asked, in his high-pitched, very concerned sounding voice. "Because the horsie doesn't like him on his back." "Why?" The more she tried to explain to him, the less it began to get through to me. I think I started to agree with him. It wasn't like they were trying to tame the horse so that one day they could ride him and trust him. It seemed unnatural and a little sad. Matthew stopped paying much attention after a while. Mostly, I think he was a little shocked by the brutal movements of the horse. It scared him and he didn't understand why everyone made him get so excited all day to come see this.

There weren't very many painful looking falls (the best part was watching the cowboy get pulled off of the bronco by a cowboy on a more docile horse), but one time a horse fell down after its second buck, and it looked like he landed on the cowboy. My mother and aunt gasped, but when I looked at my mother she quickly turned it to a smile. It was just a good old day at the rodeo.

Soon we were watching the cowgirls race around the barrels. I realized that I had watched a friend do this before in competition. So, I guess it wasn't my first time at the rodeo. The horses entered the dirt field with speed, and it was fun to watch them dip their shoulders and watch the way the cowgirls moved on top of them.

After a little cow roping and cow tripping came the lone indian chief. I thought that this was deemed racist and illegal years ago for some reason. I don't know why I thought that, TV probably, but it was basically just a show of how the indians were just as manipulative of their animals as the cowboys were. The lone indian chief, constantly leading us in his own applause, prodded his horse with a kind of thin, long, sturdy whip into all sorts of unnatural "war-horse" poses. Our host explained from out of a mythical book what the horse and chief were doing. The horse lifted and stomped his right foot as "the enemy advanced." Then he switched to his left foot. It looked very odd because to get his hoof high enough in the air for his master's liking, he'd have to jerk his neck up as awkwardly as that word is spelled. The horse went through all kinds of dances and hind-leg walking salutes to the audience as our host continued with his melancholy, almost magical tale of the indian's tragic fate. The lone indian chief forced his horse to straighten it's front legs and place it's head between them in a bowing manner as our host explained was just like the native americans were forced to resort to prayer since they couldn't keep up with "the enemy's" ever-advancing weapon technology. Our host ended the story with a booming, chilling voice, saying that now the indian and the white man have learned to live together in harmony.

Later the lone indian chief came out again riding his 'war-ponies' by standing with one foot on each saddle. He took them through lead changing figure eights and over burning fire. Then he brought out a third pony and together they jumped the ring of fire. But this was all an hour or two into it all and most people seemed to be watching everything a lot more passively than they were at first. It seemed impressive, though.

There were many kinds of similar events throughout the evening. There was one where teams of two would attempt to rope up the steer. One would hook around its head and then the other would get its hind legs leaving the animal in a spread out position. It was hard not to be reminded of those faces of death movies i've heard about where a man is tied between two horses and then they gallop off in different directions tearing off his limbs. But I wasn't. This event was the one I've posted pictures of. Other times a single cowboy would lasso one himself and then hoping his steed could keep the right kind of tension on the rope wrapped around the steer's neck, he would lift the small animal off the ground and then slam it down on its side before raising his arms in victory and to signal for the offical time keeper to stop the clock. Also, and more exciting was the steer wrestling. The gate would open and the steer would take off into the dirt field. The cowboy's were required to give them a headstart and then chase them down and jump from their horse onto its neck. I think this was the one where they twisted it down and then tied up the legs. Most of the cowboys timed it wrong and were penalized 10 seconds. A few others never caught up with the animal and my mom felt embarrassed for them. She was holding Jessica at one point and said sadly to her that she felt bad for the cows when they were thrown to the ground. Jessie looked at her for a moment and said nothing. Thirty seconds later, after the animal was set free and was running off towards the gate, Jessie looked up at my mother and said, "Are you happy now, Aunt Debbie?" (Haha, it was cute, awww). Ennnnyway, many cowboys missed when they jumped from the horse and got mouthfuls of dirt.

While we waited for the cowboys and animals to get set up before each run the clown and our host bantered back and forth. Other times the host was talking about sponsers and shit. Either way it was annoying because many times the gates would open and you wouldn't be ready for it. At some points the clown was very annoying. Once, while sitting on side fencing, he was asked how he was doing by the host. He said, "fine, if this guy here would give me some of what he's drinkin'," and he indicated a man walking by with a mountain dew. The man was a little flustered, it seemed, and stuck out his arm offering a drink to the dirty clown. The clown took it and then acted like he wasn't going to give it back. He acted like this for 2 minutes. After taking two drinks, he finally gave it back, relieving the man of standing around feeling like an idiot. Fucking clown. At the very beginning I was giving him the benefit of the doubt because I thought he was going to be a bull saver. But it turned out there were two other guys who did that. The clown wasn't all that bad. Especially at one point when he broke character. The host was making a joke at him or something and the clown pointed seriously to the gate to get him to realize the action was about to start back up.

As the rodeo wore on, I started to feel a little intoxicated. I looked up and saw the sky had turned black and starless and thousands of bugs swarmed like falling snow in the tall lights. I can finally say that you have not seen the largest bug in the universe, for I have. It landed on my leg around 10:00 last night. I stood up and everyone looked at me and my new growth. I just grabbed a measuring tape, while writing this, and can estimate the thing was over three inches long and an inch and a half wide and thick. It just kind of hung out for a while while I posed for the crowd. Eventually I prodded it off with my water bottle. A minute later an old lady and I saw it crawling up the back of the man in front of me. I shrugged my shoulders helplessly to her as it reached his neck. Finally, as she tried to get his attention, I meekly stuck my water bottle between the giant insect and the man's neck. He briskly flinched it off of him and on to his wife and then off his wife. I tried to explain that I was a wuss, or something, while he was saying something under his breath. Then he got his comb out of his wallet and scooted the bug down a crack in the concrete bleachers.

But despite all that, I was feeling intoxicated, and at the perfect time, too. Finally, bull riding was next, what we'd all been waiting for. This was indicated by the packs of droves that left the arena as soon as it was finished even though there was an hour of activity left. Ironically, the audience felt closer to one another as we all focused our eyes on the bulls crashing around in their metal cages. Out in the field the cowboys all took on a similarly serious tone, one that was in contrast to the playful, jesting way they'd acted earlier. The host introduced us to the star of the night- the bull- as the gate opened and one stode out into the field. He was compared to a grizzly bear with cat-like reflexes. He was powerful and seemed to lack any humor. He stopped and took up an imposing posture, like he knew he was being admired and awed. Three horses with three veteran cowboys on them shied back a little. There was no confidence lacking in the two bull savers, however. Their flailing antics now looked like awesome coordination as they calmly urged the bull back out of the gate. The clown had brought out a human dummy and was offering it up some high-fives, but was obviously left hanging. Even the clown was seen different in this atmosphere of suspense. Most of the audience seemed to no longer feel annoyance towards him. We now looked to him for a little relief and comfort. But nothing could break the silence.

The first attempt was the most thrilling. The cowboy hung on for a few seconds before falling most of the way to the ground. His hand got stuck. The audience couldn't turn their attention from the horror as the bull repeatedly stomped and shattered the man's legs. I was certain he wouldn't be able to walk. I had a pretty good view and I saw direct kicks to the man's knees and shins as he was drug around the field. But when he was finally freed and the bull was baited back out of the field, the cowboy stood up and limped to the gate. My mother and my aunt gasped, and this time when I looked over at my mother her face turned to one of disbelief and sickness. She was now the one asking 'why?' She said that it was horrible and couldn't understand why we were here cheering it on.

The rest of the bull riding went pretty smothly with no one getting stomped or horned. I was a little disappointed with how the bulls acted after the cowboys got off. I was hoping they'd be more upset and chase the bull savers around the arena.

The last bull rider of the night was also exciting. The bull took off straight ahead and went almost the length of the field, forcing the three cowboys on the horses to spread out of the way. Then the bull turned back and just after the horn sounded, giving the cowboy an official score, he was bucked backwards off the bull and landed straight on his head and neck. Some of the cowboys actually had helmets on, but this guy didn't. Eventually, he got up to cheers, and I saw him move his head, albeit gingerly.

Then came the real excitement, something with some audience participation and competition - the race to the cars. There was immediate complaining and pushing and shoving. My mother and father and I took off without turning behind us to say goodbye to my aunt and uncle and cousins. This wasn't my planning of course. I was just trying to keep up with my ride. My dad was tired was the thing. He didn't understand why we had to watch all the bulls. He wanted to beat traffic. The first twenty minutes of the ride home was him complaining, and my aunt calling us up to ask why we flew out of there so quickly. Oh, and the first twenty minutes of the ride home was in the parking lot. It all struck me as so odd. Also, it showed me the importance of being healthy and increasing your concentration. There was so much to absorb and to think about at the rodeo that I lost my energy quickly. But when I had it at the beginning, I was noticing and contemplating so much more. I could have sworn I could have told you five of the best ten horses just by looking at the 50 or so that pranced around in a type of introduction at the beginning. Also, I could almost feel the action at the beginning, each bounce of the horse and each adjustment of the rider. But had I been tired, I could never have enjoyed it at all. Getting home would have been my only hope and I would have seen nothing new or exciting at the rodeo. I probably would have just seen it as a useless and dying artform, turned custom, turned sideshow.