STUDY OF THE CULTURAL NORMS

He leans ag’in the htichin’ rack, his thumbs hooked in his belt
The hat that’s pulled down on his eyes, is made of beaver pelt
The leather vest across his back, han’ made a’ angus-hide
A Smith an’ Wesson forty-one is hangin’ at his side.

The grip look sez it has been used, somewhat o’er time
Could be in commission, or maybe sometime stop a crime
An’ one would think this feller knew ‘xactly where it sits
An’ could spin it out, an’ fire it, an’ know where the bullet hits

A horse is waitin’ at his side, an’ nuzzles at his arm
It ain’t his gun hand nuzzled, so the horse is done no harm
The sun is gettin’ o’erhead, mus’be commin’ on to noon
An’ the one he waits for standin’ here, should be commin’ soon.

He squints across the dusty street, he’s lookin’ at the door
Of the town’s only emporium, Sander’s General Store.
He’s waitin’ for the door to swing, an’ the person to come out
Which makes this waitin’ needed, an’ this town trips all about.

Then the door comes swingin’ open, a blond lady’s on the street
She’s the one he’s waitin’ for, he shifts his dusty feet
She has a Coke-a-cola, holdin’ in each hand
An’ crosses o’er the avenue, to her waitin’ man

It ain’t in eighteen eighty, that this scene is takin’ place
An’ it ain’t livin’ in the desert that put whiskers on his face
The horse ain’t even his’in, he drove the Studebaker down
To cart home the groceries that his wife’ll buy in town

There aint’ no gallant gunfight, for this cowboy here today
He’s in town, there with his missis, to spend his monthly pay
He’s been ridin’ for the rockin’ Q, for wages that he makes
An’ the gun that’s there upon his side, is for the rattle snakes.

Love it Terry, sometimes perception is everything. I have come across the odd ‘gentleman‘ in my time, but always was forewarned. I never much worried for myself, just my dogs. Almost none left here now; too many people got scared and trigger happy at the same time. You still have one under your porch?

Harkens back to gentler times, Terry. I think most of us miss those times.

Les