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| "The Saddle Rack" Lines from The Leathertooler Slim McNaught |
| August / Sept |
AGE KNOWS IT'S PLACE
You know, it sure is interestin' how you can almost tell the age of the owner by the looks of the ranch
outfit if he's runnin' it himself. I was settin' in the yard of a ranch the other day. My wife and this
ranch wife was both talkin' a hundred mile an hour, so I stayed in the vehicle outta the way. (After
bein' married to that woman over fifty years I'm gettin' smart). While I was settin' there I got to
lookin' around this layout and it suddenly dawned on me that as my gaze covered each building, corral,
and fence, I kept recognizin' this couple who owned this outfit in everything I saw here. For a little bit
there I almost felt I was intrudin' on somethin' very personal.
Then I got to thinkin' about some of the outfits I've been on over the years. When you see no saddles
on the saddle racks that are over waist high you can bet this feller is gettin' older. When they're
younger them saddles will be stacked up on the top rack, three high for most, four or five high for
some of them tall young drinks of water. And look at the gates. Them young fellers walk up to that
three hundred pound gate, grab a hand holt, lean their shoulder into it, bend over a bit, stick their free
arm out for balance, and with short, quick, steps, take that gate clear around.
Now, I can tell you, bein' over seventy I can't even lift that gate anymore. And you watch those older
fellers that can still lift it. When they finally do get it drug around, they don't just straighten up and
step lively and straight back to the gate post like them young fellers. First thing they gotta do is get
straightened up. Sometimes that can take quite awhile. Then they kinda step slow and careful and a
little uneven back to the post. And you look at the gates on their own outfits. They are either hung so
they swing free or they got a wheel under ‘em so you can roll ‘em open without havin' to lift all
that weight. Oh, there ain't any of us want to show our age when folks are watchin' but mother nature
has some rules that you can't break, even if you wanted to. And I believe that causes some of us older
fellers to get a little cagey.
After we sold our ranch, my wife and I opened a saddle and custom leather shop. I used to have maybe
twenty five to thirty used saddles hangin' around, accumulated from some of my horse tradin' episodes.
When I was younger, I'd run a short rope with a loop in each end through the seat hole, loop one end
over the horn, step up on a stool, hoist that saddle up with one hand, and hook the other loop over a peg
on a rafter. Simple. I'd take saddles up and down off them pegs for an hour while tryin' to make a trade
with a customer. No more. Now I've got pulleys on the rafter with loops in the end of the rope. I run
that loop through the seat hole, hook it over the horn, pulley that saddle hand-over-hand to the top,
and hook the rope to a peg down where I can get at it easy. Gruntin' all the way.
I've got three sons. I get tickled watchin' them fellers. The oldest one is about fifty and the youngest
around forty. Now, when they were in their prime, they could just about lift a hay wagon and squeeze
water out of a rock. When they walked up to a fence they never went to the gate. They didn't even
hesitate. They'd just swing over that fence and go on their way. I notice lately they've started walkin'
down to the gate and goin' through. Age is ketchin' up to ‘em. I used to jump them fences too, but I
been walkin' to the gate for quite a few years now.
Nowadays, as workin' males, we're livin' longer. But I don't know as our strength lasts as long. I really
believe that when my grandad was the age I am now (he went to punchin' cows on the Big Range when
he was seventy seven) he was a lot stronger when it came to liftin' feed sacks, gates, saddles and
harness, than I am. One of my boys still has some work horses and I can barely lift one of them
harnesses anymore. But his age is makin' him smarter - he's got each one of them draft harnesses
separated in the middle and that makes ‘em much easier to get hoisted up on them big ol' boys he
drives.
Awhile back we had a family reunion. It's on my wife's side of the family and we been doin' this comin'
onto thirty five years. We started this thing before some of these folks had kids of their own. Now
we've all got grand kids and a bunch of us have a passel of great grand kids and my mother is still with
us at these doin's so for her it's great-great grand kids. I can remember when the older generation
baby sat our little ones and we'd all go out and party ‘till daylight, and come home laughin' and havin'
a good time and still have energy left. Well, this year we were all sittin' around visitin, laughin', and
havin' a good time and the ten o'clock whistle blew in this little town we were in and that bunch blowed
outta there for bed like leaves in front of a cold fall wind. Amazin'! I didn't even know most of us could
move that fast anymore. Left them skeeters hangin' in mid air lookin' at empty chairs.
But you know, I'm a firm believer that you're only as old as you feel. I have always said "pain is
relative and age is a state of mind". If you hit your thumb with a hammer and you ‘re really busy you
ain't got time to fuss about it much and you just get on with the job. If you whack your thumb when
you're just horsin' around doin' nothin' important, that buggar really hurts. And the more you pay
attention to it, the worse it hurts.
Age? You're how ever old you feel. You take some older feller when he's diggin' post holes or pitchin'
manure outta the barn. His back's a hurtin', he's cussin' the sweat gettin' in his eyes, and he's grumpy.
He's feelin' older. Then some pretty young gal shows up. Immediately, his back gets ramrod straight,
the sweat runnin' down his face makes him look young and viral (he thinks), he gets a smile on his
face, and he can pitch that manure clean over a six foot side board into that spreader. Sure took some
years off that old boy.
So, next time you look around a ranch, just see if you don't notice how the outfit takes on the age and
appearance of the folks who run it. Shucks, look around your own outfit. You might even notice a
pulley or a wheel or a counter weight you put on somethin' and didn't even realize why you done it.
Buck up, young feller, the best is yet to come.
©2005 Slim McNaught
You know, it sure is interestin' how you can almost tell the age of the owner by the looks of the ranch
outfit if he's runnin' it himself. I was settin' in the yard of a ranch the other day. My wife and this
ranch wife was both talkin' a hundred mile an hour, so I stayed in the vehicle outta the way. (After
bein' married to that woman over fifty years I'm gettin' smart). While I was settin' there I got to
lookin' around this layout and it suddenly dawned on me that as my gaze covered each building, corral,
and fence, I kept recognizin' this couple who owned this outfit in everything I saw here. For a little bit
there I almost felt I was intrudin' on somethin' very personal.
Then I got to thinkin' about some of the outfits I've been on over the years. When you see no saddles
on the saddle racks that are over waist high you can bet this feller is gettin' older. When they're
younger them saddles will be stacked up on the top rack, three high for most, four or five high for
some of them tall young drinks of water. And look at the gates. Them young fellers walk up to that
three hundred pound gate, grab a hand holt, lean their shoulder into it, bend over a bit, stick their free
arm out for balance, and with short, quick, steps, take that gate clear around.
Now, I can tell you, bein' over seventy I can't even lift that gate anymore. And you watch those older
fellers that can still lift it. When they finally do get it drug around, they don't just straighten up and
step lively and straight back to the gate post like them young fellers. First thing they gotta do is get
straightened up. Sometimes that can take quite awhile. Then they kinda step slow and careful and a
little uneven back to the post. And you look at the gates on their own outfits. They are either hung so
they swing free or they got a wheel under ‘em so you can roll ‘em open without havin' to lift all
that weight. Oh, there ain't any of us want to show our age when folks are watchin' but mother nature
has some rules that you can't break, even if you wanted to. And I believe that causes some of us older
fellers to get a little cagey.
After we sold our ranch, my wife and I opened a saddle and custom leather shop. I used to have maybe
twenty five to thirty used saddles hangin' around, accumulated from some of my horse tradin' episodes.
When I was younger, I'd run a short rope with a loop in each end through the seat hole, loop one end
over the horn, step up on a stool, hoist that saddle up with one hand, and hook the other loop over a peg
on a rafter. Simple. I'd take saddles up and down off them pegs for an hour while tryin' to make a trade
with a customer. No more. Now I've got pulleys on the rafter with loops in the end of the rope. I run
that loop through the seat hole, hook it over the horn, pulley that saddle hand-over-hand to the top,
and hook the rope to a peg down where I can get at it easy. Gruntin' all the way.
I've got three sons. I get tickled watchin' them fellers. The oldest one is about fifty and the youngest
around forty. Now, when they were in their prime, they could just about lift a hay wagon and squeeze
water out of a rock. When they walked up to a fence they never went to the gate. They didn't even
hesitate. They'd just swing over that fence and go on their way. I notice lately they've started walkin'
down to the gate and goin' through. Age is ketchin' up to ‘em. I used to jump them fences too, but I
been walkin' to the gate for quite a few years now.
Nowadays, as workin' males, we're livin' longer. But I don't know as our strength lasts as long. I really
believe that when my grandad was the age I am now (he went to punchin' cows on the Big Range when
he was seventy seven) he was a lot stronger when it came to liftin' feed sacks, gates, saddles and
harness, than I am. One of my boys still has some work horses and I can barely lift one of them
harnesses anymore. But his age is makin' him smarter - he's got each one of them draft harnesses
separated in the middle and that makes ‘em much easier to get hoisted up on them big ol' boys he
drives.
Awhile back we had a family reunion. It's on my wife's side of the family and we been doin' this comin'
onto thirty five years. We started this thing before some of these folks had kids of their own. Now
we've all got grand kids and a bunch of us have a passel of great grand kids and my mother is still with
us at these doin's so for her it's great-great grand kids. I can remember when the older generation
baby sat our little ones and we'd all go out and party ‘till daylight, and come home laughin' and havin'
a good time and still have energy left. Well, this year we were all sittin' around visitin, laughin', and
havin' a good time and the ten o'clock whistle blew in this little town we were in and that bunch blowed
outta there for bed like leaves in front of a cold fall wind. Amazin'! I didn't even know most of us could
move that fast anymore. Left them skeeters hangin' in mid air lookin' at empty chairs.
But you know, I'm a firm believer that you're only as old as you feel. I have always said "pain is
relative and age is a state of mind". If you hit your thumb with a hammer and you ‘re really busy you
ain't got time to fuss about it much and you just get on with the job. If you whack your thumb when
you're just horsin' around doin' nothin' important, that buggar really hurts. And the more you pay
attention to it, the worse it hurts.
Age? You're how ever old you feel. You take some older feller when he's diggin' post holes or pitchin'
manure outta the barn. His back's a hurtin', he's cussin' the sweat gettin' in his eyes, and he's grumpy.
He's feelin' older. Then some pretty young gal shows up. Immediately, his back gets ramrod straight,
the sweat runnin' down his face makes him look young and viral (he thinks), he gets a smile on his
face, and he can pitch that manure clean over a six foot side board into that spreader. Sure took some
years off that old boy.
So, next time you look around a ranch, just see if you don't notice how the outfit takes on the age and
appearance of the folks who run it. Shucks, look around your own outfit. You might even notice a
pulley or a wheel or a counter weight you put on somethin' and didn't even realize why you done it.
Buck up, young feller, the best is yet to come.
©2005 Slim McNaught
| Due to some techmical difficulties (By myself, editor of CnC) August and September are both on this one page. Hope you enjoy as you scroll down and read these two new additions! |
On a beautiful Tuesday evening, August 9, we began an interesting and fun filled two days. We were
attending the Boss Cowman Cowboy Opry, broadcast live on the Webb from the Boss Cowman
Conference Center at 214 2nd Avenue West, Lemmon, South Dakota. Bob and Winona Penfield of
Penfield Auctions present this program on the second Tuesday of every month. They have regular
listeners in China and Australia, as two examples of their Webb audience. This performance was well
attended at the Center by folks from North and South Dakota, Wyoming and Montana, as well as some
folks from Florida.
Duane Dickinson of Scoby, Montana was the musical talent of the evening. Duane has been performing
for far over two decades at cowboy shows all over the west. His speciality is the old cowboy songs from
the eighteen hundreds to early nineteen hundreds. He sings these old ballads the way they were written
seventy five to a hundred years ago.
As the cowboy poet of the evening, I recited poetry that I have been writing since the late forties, some
new, some old. As I told the crowd, when I was young I wrote poetry about the way I thought things
should be. As I got older I wrote poetry about the things I was doing. Nowadays I write poetry about
things I used to do, since I don't do much anymore.
After the broadcast, the Penfields hosted everyone to a delicious lunch in the basement kitchen and
dining area of the Boss Cowman building. Duane displayed his CDs and tapes and I put out my books.
We had a great evening.
The next evening, August 10, we were a hundred miles east of Lemmon. We performed in the
Sacagawea Learning Center Auditorium just off US 12 in West Mobridge, South Dakota. This was
Mobridge's Second Encore Edition, again put on by Bob and Winona Penfield. Here, the Penfields hosted
a dinner theater, catered by The Pizza Ranch of Mobridge, South Dakota. Great food, excellent chicken!
Duane and I performed about a half hour and then Rory Hoffman and his brother Reed went on stage
and put on a great musical performance. They had Ethel Diggs, Gospel singer from Los Angeles,
California, sing a few numbers. That lady has one beautiful voice! Also doing a couple numbers was
Jesse Ginter from Lemmon, a friend of Rory's. That girl has lots of talent, she is only in the eighth
grade, but sounds and acts much more mature. Rory is an excellent musician. He started playing guitar
at age three and now plays fourteen different instruments. Both born blind, Rory and his brother, Reed,
are musical geniuses. They write and compose their music. They have recorded with the Potter Sisters
and others.
Depot Music Productions, >www.depotmusicpros.com<, with Eric Ulmer at the helm doing an excellent
job on sound, broadcasting, and recording of both night's performances, handles the Penfields Cowboy
Oprys and operates from his studio in Mobridge, South Dakota.
Duane and I finished up the last half hour of the evening. Bob Penfield, who was the MC both evenings,
signed us off each night. He also did a very good job for the sponsors for both shows. And a good time
was had by all.
©2005 Slim McNaught
attending the Boss Cowman Cowboy Opry, broadcast live on the Webb from the Boss Cowman
Conference Center at 214 2nd Avenue West, Lemmon, South Dakota. Bob and Winona Penfield of
Penfield Auctions present this program on the second Tuesday of every month. They have regular
listeners in China and Australia, as two examples of their Webb audience. This performance was well
attended at the Center by folks from North and South Dakota, Wyoming and Montana, as well as some
folks from Florida.
Duane Dickinson of Scoby, Montana was the musical talent of the evening. Duane has been performing
for far over two decades at cowboy shows all over the west. His speciality is the old cowboy songs from
the eighteen hundreds to early nineteen hundreds. He sings these old ballads the way they were written
seventy five to a hundred years ago.
As the cowboy poet of the evening, I recited poetry that I have been writing since the late forties, some
new, some old. As I told the crowd, when I was young I wrote poetry about the way I thought things
should be. As I got older I wrote poetry about the things I was doing. Nowadays I write poetry about
things I used to do, since I don't do much anymore.
After the broadcast, the Penfields hosted everyone to a delicious lunch in the basement kitchen and
dining area of the Boss Cowman building. Duane displayed his CDs and tapes and I put out my books.
We had a great evening.
The next evening, August 10, we were a hundred miles east of Lemmon. We performed in the
Sacagawea Learning Center Auditorium just off US 12 in West Mobridge, South Dakota. This was
Mobridge's Second Encore Edition, again put on by Bob and Winona Penfield. Here, the Penfields hosted
a dinner theater, catered by The Pizza Ranch of Mobridge, South Dakota. Great food, excellent chicken!
Duane and I performed about a half hour and then Rory Hoffman and his brother Reed went on stage
and put on a great musical performance. They had Ethel Diggs, Gospel singer from Los Angeles,
California, sing a few numbers. That lady has one beautiful voice! Also doing a couple numbers was
Jesse Ginter from Lemmon, a friend of Rory's. That girl has lots of talent, she is only in the eighth
grade, but sounds and acts much more mature. Rory is an excellent musician. He started playing guitar
at age three and now plays fourteen different instruments. Both born blind, Rory and his brother, Reed,
are musical geniuses. They write and compose their music. They have recorded with the Potter Sisters
and others.
Depot Music Productions, >www.depotmusicpros.com<, with Eric Ulmer at the helm doing an excellent
job on sound, broadcasting, and recording of both night's performances, handles the Penfields Cowboy
Oprys and operates from his studio in Mobridge, South Dakota.
Duane and I finished up the last half hour of the evening. Bob Penfield, who was the MC both evenings,
signed us off each night. He also did a very good job for the sponsors for both shows. And a good time
was had by all.
©2005 Slim McNaught
| BOSS COWMAN COWBOY OPRY |