Yesterday began as a day of extra rest. At least for Chris. She stayed in bed until well after 7 a.m.
Our
outing for the day took us back into Fort Worth where we did the whole Fort
Worth Stock Exchange tourist thing. In all our years living in and around Fort
Worth, we never made it down there. The blame probably lies with old city boy
here. None of that yahoo country stuff ever got to me, except maybe listening
to the songs when I started dating my beautiful country girl Chris. “She dragged me kickin’ and screamin’ to the sounds of
country music …”. That’s gotta be the lyrics to a song somewhere.
So
back to our adventure. When we arrived, we first parked next to Billy Bob’s
Texas. I guess it was too early in the day for the nightclub crowd. We realized
quickly that there were no people around, so we moved. Sure enough, on around
the corner, we found ‘em. Found another parking lot, too. Fifteen bucks. But we
were in the very thick of things, literally right next to Stockyard Station,
the hub of all the action. We took a stroll around the shops and rescued a runt
of a longhorn steer to complete our trip with us. I think his cousin is already
part of our heard from a while back when we were over at LBJ’s ranch.
We
had but to step to the curb to witness the alleged highlight of our excursion.
That’s right … the cattle drive of longhorns right through town. After some
hoopla generated by a cowboy on a microphone, the horses carrying cowboys emerged
… and then the cattle. All longhorns. Ambling along at a snail’s pace. Maybe
ten or fifteen of them. Texas longhorns. I videoed the event for posterity.
Exactly two minutes and one second and they were gone. Woohoo.
Next
we took a walk looking for a place to eat. Neither of us wanted steak or
barbecue. I guess that’s a Texan sin. We settled on a little spot called
Trailboss burgers. Maddi took good care of us. Chris had a salad and I went
with the BLT.
Next
we walked down the street to the Texas Cowboy Hall of Fame. I didn’t expect to
recognize anyone, but apparently you don’t have to be a real cowboy to get in.
A Dallas Cowboys football player or two appeared good enough. Also several country
music singers. And the King Ranch. Yep. The whole thing. And a couple of
boot-making companies. My favorite inductee, however, was a rancher. Guy name
Nolan Ryan. Even had one of his Astros caps and jerseys on display.
As
we returned to the car, I couldn’t help but be distracted by an 8-year-old,
very vocal, 2300 pound, 7 foot wingspan of a Texas Longhorn named Gunner. He
just kept hollering for me to come over, so we finally did. And how could I
resist the urge to climb aboard when he invited me. Yep. And Chris has the
photos to prove it. The youngster (20 something) who was there to help me get
on noticed my knee scar upon my dismount. He asked how long ago was my surgery and
continued on to tell me he has already had both knees replaced and shoulder
reconstructive surgery as well. You’re way too young, Cowboy, way too young.
On
the way out of Fort Worth we took a quick detour and completed Chris’
collection of photos of our old seminary houses. This one had a new coat of
paint, but not much else was different, even down to the garage from the 1930’s.
I suppose now we can move on … on to Dallas!
Psalms 34:8 says, “Taste and see that the
Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.”
Father,
thank you for the new trail ride experience. And take care of old Gunner for
me. It’s pretty hot out there. Amen.
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