I tell you what…
*Disclaimer*: The following must be read in a cowboy hick drawl.
There have been moments when I thought I was on the edge of civilization but never so much as this past weekend. Driving four hours into the barren, snowy wilderness of nowhere will do wonders for your perspective on what the edge of civilization really is. With my perspective adjusted, I can stoutly say I was there this weekend.
But, I tell you what, it was a good experience. There were many moments of laughter, even more of awkwardness and countless instances of “was that just said?”
It’s not often that the following is all said in one evening of Pendleton and backwoods folks:
“Which ‘uns is ya pointing at?”
“So you graduated college in four years. Wal, thet must make you 24?”
“It was called the Full Gospel Country church. Full Gospel means the whole Bible, cover to cover, front to back.”
“Well, I tell you what, my middle name is Joe. But my mom didn’t give it to me; I gave it to myself.”
“Wal, I’m not gonna quote scripture cuz I’m drunk.”
I wish I could remember more, because there certainly was more but the more I speak of this weekend, the more I think it was necessary for you to have been there. And believe me, I think it would take a special breed of hardiness for most people to have been there.
I tell you what, I’ve known my share of backwoods hicks. But cowboys are a special breed of people, for sure and certain, and I be thinkin’ the Pendleton only plays a minor role.
