Poking at Cows

Astronaut, Cowboy, Train Driver. 

At age 12 they were my dream jobs for my grown up future working in descending order of preference and ambition. 

Being a baby-boomer I was very aware of the Space Race and the first Moon landing and I could from memory recite the names of the first few Apollo crews. In the playground I was always Jim Lovell. 

Third choice could not be farther away in terms of perceived peril, speed and working conditions but again, my childhood years were a time of great advances in railways and a train driver had a certain heroic appeal. 

As for the middle career option as a cowboy, well, given the certainty of just one of the three then I would be a cowboy. 

The film genre of Westerns was dominant in my childhood from Saturday morning TV with Champion the Wonder Horse and The Lone Ranger to the movie releases at the local Picture House. 

I was brought up on the performances of Widmark, Fonda, Ford, Stewart, Wayne and Lancaster and mimicked their stance, drawling voices and gun-slinging style out in the street on the middle class housing estate where we lived.

Brother, Mark, in his outfit

For quite a few weeks at a time I lived in my cowboy outfit purchased from the local toy shop with Stetson, waistcoat with Sheriffs badge, tassle edged plastic fronted trousers, red spotted neck tie, belt, holster and six shooter. Just wearing the outfit made me feel about ten feet tall. 

I did however have real doubts as to whether I would actually cut it as a cowboy if I chose to become a real one when fully grown. 

I was quite small for my age, thin and scrawny and so would obviously struggle to control a boisterous steed, let alone be able to climb up onto it in the first place if that physique persisted into my adult years. 

My movie inspired role model cowboys did fit a certain body shape and persona. Broad shouldered, chiselled chin just dusted with a designer stubble, handy with the fists and yet quick on the reflexes in order to outwit and out-draw those who would bring you down. 

I might be able to get somewhere near this idealistic cowboy shape through sensible diet and good exercise in my teenage and early adult years. 

Of course, the era was one where smoking was cool and sophisticated and so part of my cowboy impersonation aged 12 would include a packet of confectionery stick cigarettes or failing that, chewing on a piece of dried wood. I didn’t fancy the idea of being a smoker though and would have to develop a liking of hard liquor instead. I could not really understand why, after a long day in the saddle riding the range and corralling livestock, the first thing a cowboy would order in the saloon bar would be a whisky, hardly the thing to quench a parched and dust filled throat. 

A common trait for the movie portrayals of a western hero was strong and silent. This was essential in times of personal danger, crisis and where dealings with women were concerned. I was always very quick to blush from ear to ear if even a female relative said something to me and so I would expect to struggle with that sort of characteristic in my older years as well. 

Gambling was a primary pursuit of the traditional cowboy and developing a poker face would be an important thing when sat in a huddle around a card table in a very unhealthily smoky lounge bar. I was never any good at card games, not even Happy Family or Snap and so did not anticipate much joy and success with that particular aspect of the lifestyle. 

On the positive side I loved aged 12 and still do today, baked beans and I would fit in easily around the chuck wagon and camp fire. 

My membership of the Cub and Senior Scouts would help greatly in the practicalities of making up a fire, outdoors cooking and following a trail. 

I was as you can see wracked with doubts and anxieties about a future career as a cowboy. 

What gave me great reassurance as to my ambition was a song written by Larry Weiss that Glen Campbell released in 1975.

If the particular individual in the song could make it, being of comparative lightweight physique to me, then everything looked to be good for my own dreams and aspirations.

Unfortunately, I now realise that I had misheard some of the lyrics.

I've been walkin' these streets so long
Singin' the same old song
I know every crack in these dirty sidewalks of Broadway
Where hustle's the name of the game
And nice guys get washed away like the snow and the rain
There's been a load of compromisin'
On the road to my horizon
But I'm gonna be where the lights are shinin' on me

Like a nine-stone cowboy
Riding out on a horse in a star-spangled rodeo
Like a nine-stone cowboy
Getting cards and letters from people I don't even know
And offers comin' over the phone

Well, I really don't mind the rain
And a smile can hide all the pain
But you're down when you're ridin' the train
That's takin' the long way
And I dream of the things I'll do
With a subway token and a dollar tucked inside my shoe
There'll be a load of compromisin'
On the road to my horizon
But I'm gonna be where the lights are shinin' on me

Like a nine-stone cowboy
Riding out on a horse in a star-spangled rodeo
Nine-stone cowboy
Gettin' cards and letters from people I don't even know
And offers comin' over the phone

Like a nine-stone cowboy
Riding out on a horse in a star-spangled rodeo

Like a nine-stone cowboy
Gettin' card and letters from people I don't even know....

Apologies to Larry Weiss and the recently departed Glen Campbell for this.