and for a very good reason. I lived in Spokane, Washington for three years. I actually met some real cowboys, guys who rode horses into the high country every fall to roundup cattle that had been living off the land for many month without seeing a single human. They were rang steers, and very, very dangerous.

Tonight, I watched a movie on You Tube, Monty Walsh, staring Tom Selleck which brought back lots of fond memories of real cowboys I met way back in 1968. One that came to mind was Ted Bouroughs, who was a market hunter during the 1930s, owned a butcher shop in Usk, Washington, and provided meat for the Swede loggers and cowboys living and working in the High Country. He was an incredible man, stood just over 5 feet and could take down a mule deer from a half-mile away with his old, rolling block, 25/35, single shot rifle while sitting on the back of his horse.

Ted, to say the least, was one of my heroes. He was kind, gentle, person and knew more about life than anyone I ever met. His son, Teddy II, was equally a gentleman and owned a biomedical lab in the city of Spokane. Both owned a string of horses, mainly quarter-horses, and often raced them at local, county fairs. Carol and I, along with my very young son, John, frequently attended those fairs and loved every minute.

Both Ted and his son, Teddy, have long since passes, but their memories are still in the cobwebs of my aging mind and heart. Therefore, to their memories, I dedicate this Willy Nelson song, My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys [color:#FF0000][/color]
All The Best,

Gary

Gary

I enjoyed your commentary and rendition of Willy's song. You certainly have crammed a lot of varied experiences and vocations in your life. I have always admired you for many reasons.

Bernie

Gary thanx for sharing....well done

Thank you for sharing this atmosphere with the story and the song of this authentic America, Gary! You do well both :-)

Thanks guys, I really appreciate you taking time to listen and comment. I forgot to mention, Ted Burroughs Sr, loaded salted beef from his butcher shop on the backs of a dozen mules to transport to the surrounding mountains. The salted beef would only last for the first few stops, then he had to rely on his ability to shoot mule deer, elk, black tail deer, moose and black bear, which he would butcher on the spot, wrap it in brown, meat wrapping paper and load it on the mules. No one ever knew the difference, mainly,I guess, because he was their only meat supplier when they were working in the high country. Old Ted also owned the only Pawn Shop in Usk, as well, making loans mainly on tools owned by local loggers. The loggers would pawn their saws, etc..., then head straight for the Usk Tavern, get blasted, hook up with an ugly woman, and at the end of the week, when they got paid, they would get their tools out of pawn and go back to work.

Bernie, throughout my life, I've met some very colorful individuals. People that did things other folks only dream of doing, but never seem to get around to doing them, for one reason or another. I've met couples that sailed around the globe in relatively small, sailboats, people that quit their high paying jobs on Wall Street then sailed to the Bahamas to enjoy life living aboard their boat, and one of the most colorful of all, was a guy named Captain Jack. I played music for Captain Jack's 92nd birthday and he passed at age 97.

Jack had a high paying sales position in Miami, Florida, a 9 to 5 job with a major corporation. At age 60, he purchased a 26-foot sailboat and he and his wife sailed it to Marathon Key, Florida for their annual vacation. This was the first boat he ever owned, and after a couple days on the high seas, he fell in love with sailing. When he finally reached Marathon Key, which was about the 4th day, he pulled into the City Marina, where he rented a slip. After a couple days of exploring the keys, he called his boss and said "I'm retiring." His boss asked when he intended to do this, and Jack said "As of this minute I am retired." Jack, his wife and black lab lived on that tiny boat for the next decade, when his wife passed away.

One day, the marina manager came to Jack and said "Jack, that boat is really too small to be a live aboard - you should get something bigger." He agreed, had the bottom of the boat cleaned and sailed away. Three days later, he returned to the marina and was greeted by the marina manager. "Jack, I thought you were gonna get a bigger boat." he said. "This is bigger." he replied - "It's a 27-footer." Jack spent the remainder of his days riding his bike to the city park every morning, cutting several dozen flowers and placing them in plastic bags, then returning to the marina and presenting one to each of the ladies. Yep, at 97 he was still hitting on the ladies, and they loved him.

I've met a lot of Captain Jacks during my 80 years on the planet - they were all wonderful people.

Gary

These stories do make you wonder, Gary. People live so differently. Obviously most of them are trapped for financial reasons; but sometimes habits can also work as prison as well.

Surely you yourself being a sailor making money by singing and playing an arranger keyboards are a quite extraordinary person :-)

Thanks Kabinopus, for the compliments. I have done so many things during my life, I almost have trouble keeping track of them. I pretty much enjoyed every job I had over the years, but the thing I enjoyed most was all the wonderful people I've met along the way.

When I was a kid in the US Navy, I was always fascinated with traveling the oceans of the world, visiting other countries, and studying their cultures first hand. One thing we all had in common was the love of music - all kinds of music. Despite my inability to speak or understand many of their languages, we managed to communicate, especially with music. I joined up with a 5-piece band, formed by a few of my shipmates, and we managed to get some jobs playing the local bars/pubs in each country we visited. For the most part, American music was widely accepted throughout eastern Europe and the northern Mediterranean nations we visited.

Back then, I played a guitar and sang. My playing skills were limited to just a dozen chords, but the audiences, and my bandmates loved my vocals. We also performed in Cuba, just before Castro closed Havana, Puerto Rico, most of the larger Bahama islands, and several central and south American nations during my 4-year enlistment in the US Navy.

I have enjoyed an exciting, and very diverse life, and my wife of nearly 58 years, Carol, tells everyone that our marriage has been anything but boring. Now that I am in my twilight years, there are a few places I would have loved to visit, Poland and Russia are at the top of the list, followed by Thailand, where a few friends of mine now reside.

Thanks again, for thinking of me,

Gary

This was my home away from home for 8 years. Sure miss the old tub.

I love that song Gary. I grew up in cowboy country, Oklahoma. Rode my first horse when I was about six or seven, on my uncle's dairy farm. Lived a couple of miles from one of the great early rodeo heroes, Jim Shoulders, and used to fish on ponds on his property.
We lived near the Osage Indian Reservation, and I have a little of that heritage, but not enough to be rich, as a lot of them are now.
OKLAHOMA HILLS

Don wow that was amazing sounded so good thank you for sharing it with us .. you sir are a true cowboy!!

I don't think my old pal Gary will mind if I posted it. YEEE HAWW.

Loved your rendition, Don. I remember this song well.

All the best,

Gary

Hank Thompson, also from Oklahoma, did that song, and I had the pleasure of playing it while he sang it with me when he came to town for the Louisiana Hayride anniversary celebration some years ago.
He and his band stayed at the hotel where HankB had his lounge. I was helping HankB out when I had the time and I was playing the night they were there. Hank Thompson sang a half dozen or so of his hits, and was a little impressed that I knew them all. I do recall him asking for "A Six Pack To Go", and I started it at the tempo at which he had recorded it. He stopped me and said he hadn't done it that slow since the day he recorded it. He gave me the tempo and I turned the knob and off we went, at about double speed!
He passed away not too long after that. He still had that big booming voice even in his last years.