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A Cowboy Needs a Horse

Have you ever heard of Big Week?

No, it is not the aerial bombing of the 1940s.

And no, it is not the Biggest Losers counterpart – Smallest Winner.

Where I am from, Big Week is Rodeo week. It is held every year toward the end of July and is supposedly the largest on the west coast.

Cowboy Needs a Horse

Now, I may have redneck tendencies, but I am no cowboy. Disney Sing-A-Long has contrived a list of requirements one has to ascertain to be designated a cowboy. A cowboy needs a horse, a hat, a pair of fancy boots, a set of shiny spurs, and a rope-o-o-o if he wants to be a cowboy. Let me calculate my haul of currently owned items…Carry the two, subtract the W, add pie, pumpkin preferably…Zero. That suggests my attire for such an event is exiguous in comparison to fellow attendees. I end up looking like a Hipster-Wannabe-Cowboy with a plaid shirt, skinny-FIT jeans (there is a difference), and some shoes. Meanwhile, I see men and women dressing to the nines in their western wardrobe. I’ve always wondered, wow, for a country guy (or girl) they sure look spiffy. I’ve wondered how they have kept their clothes so crisp and immaculate. I’ve come to the conclusion it is because they only wear the shit once a year. Now, my town has its fair share of rednecks, but we are more infamously known for our gang affairs. Local law enforcement is just not well versed in managing snapping Broadway gangsters. One would reckon that Jazz Hands 101 be a prerequisite to graduate the Police Academy. Regardless, fact of the matter is this town does not have that many country people. We do have a lot of pretenders. And none are The Great.

I know this to be a fact. I have friends who participate in these rodeo festivities. Friends who are only cowboys for 168 hours. While not the same amount of hours, I liken it to how long it felt when watching James Franco’s movie. It appears to be a lengthy carving of time, but put in perspective with the 8766 hours in a year, it’s rather brief. It does not prevent them from embodying their western clothes and jumping up on that “high horse.” Pun(s) intended. For one week they think they are some badass cowboy. Until I remind them, “You work at Carls Jr., you don’t listen to country music, and you’ve never even ridden a horse. The closest you’ve come to western is selling me a Double Western Bacon Cheeseburger. Now, which window do I pull up to? The second? Why do you have two windows, but only occupy one? I want to know what’s behind window number one.” Okay, I got carried away with that fabricated conversation, but the drift has been got.

HF

There are exceptions to this rule. Women. I do not care if you have never seen the stars above the city glow. If you want to slap on some daisy dukes, roll up your t-shirt, and rock some boots you go right ahead and do so. There are so many cheap jokes here, I’m talking five cent spittoon cigars worth, but I will take the high road, the one that leads off into the sunset. In a car.

You’re Absolutely Left

It is said that roughly ten percent of the world population is left-handed. I am proud to be part of that ten percent (I would really love to be in the one percent economically speaking). I take pride in my left-handed ability. Why not? It is rare and has a multitude of advantages.

1)      Lefties have high IQs (Although didn’t Rainman score 87 on IQ? So much for knowledge.)

2)      Lefties make more money than righties. (If only…right?)

3)      Lefties have better underwater vision. (I am not sure if I believe this one…)

4)      Lefties are better at multitasking. (Not to be sexist, but I believe this is a gender thing.)

5)      Lefties tend to have better memories. (What was this blog about again?)

6)      Lefties are better at video games. (There we go! Agree.)

7)      Lefties recover better from strokes. (That is always comforting.)

8)      Lefties are more visual and artistic (Concur. We are amazing.)

9)      Lefties learn to drive quicker. (Sure, why not. I’ll take it.)

It is not always  convivial and merry. There are certain impediments to the left-handed gift. I will not reverberate case records that document the benefits and encumbrances of handedness. That would be too logical and time consuming. Instead, I will share a serving of my own experiences; my personal discrepancies.

As a young lad, I wore a lot of cowboy boots. That was all I wore until I was about five. My style was impeccable. I was blonde, with big heavy glasses, a blue shirt (with awesome marshmallow art on it), grey sweatpants, and cowboy boots. Not only was my style impeccable, I was the epitome of IT. Now, I did not know then what I know now. I stuck with cowboy boots to avoid tying shoes. I was horrible at it. My parents would teach me the tricks. A bunny here a hole there, a loopity loop here and a flick of the wrist there, and we have a knot. Yeah. I was not getting it. Then my grandma, who is also left-handed, taught me and I learned. Now, I am not sure how the right and left handed ways differ, but there is something to it. I know I am knot retarded.

Then there are scissors. Arts and crafts turned out like sharts and laughs. My cutting lines were jagged, if existing at all. Cheap right-handed scissors and left hand precision cutting was an evil combination. I have received my fair share of  strange looks in school by asking my neighbor to cut my design out for me. They just do not understand. There is a positive to this though. I learned that if you have a left-handed suicidal friend, and they are attempting to end their life with scissors, they are not serious about dying because those things won’t cut.

There is one true way to spot a left-hander (when they aren’t involved in handed activities). Check the side of their palm for ink or lead smears. I mention this as a hindrance because some left-handers hate turning in smeared papers. Not me. I believe it gives the paper some flare. A three-dimensional look if you will. It is also a reminder that left-handers push and right-handers pull. While right-handers are constantly pulling through life, left-handers are pushing on through to the other side.

Albeit our pushing does not produce award winning calligraphy. That is a problem, but it is not our fault. Do you see what we write on? Have you seen a left-handed desk? What’s going on there? Are only oompa loompas and munchkins left-handed? It is as if they ran out of supplies and used scrap material to piece these tiny rickety desks together. They figure it looks functional, and hell, only ten percent of the world is left handed. This has restricted our penmanship to penboyship.

I recognize my left-handedness as a unique trait and something that separates me from others. I do have one confession though. I am not a complete left-hander. I play sports and guitar right-handed. I believe I naturally developed that instinct in sports, but I was told to switch with guitar. I always imagine how much better I could have been. Nevertheless I still consider myself left-handed. I have overcome the trials and tribulations. We are not only different, we are better. We are never wrong. Left-handers are right! Wait a tic…Oh, well. Left-Handers Unite!

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Are left handed people generally shorter? Left handed desks are so much smaller than right handed desks.