Well, for those of you who don't live in Houston, aka H-Town, aka SPACE CITY (by desperate marketers), today is Go Texan Day. What does this mean, you may ask? Well, it is the official start of the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo, yee haw.
I have visited the rodeo each year for as long as I can remember. When I was little it was incredibly exciting to see all of the animals in the livestock area. This of course was before I knew what was going to happen to said animals after the show.
Then as I got older the thrill of the musical acts took over. Yes, I was actually excited to see Kenny Rogers come to the rodeo. Give me a break, I was at the mercy of my parents' musical tastes as a child. Now in my dad's case it was cool because that meant The Beatles, The Eagles, Beethoven, and...um...Foreigner. Now with my mom you were also looking at some oldies, but the bulk of the music was going to be Kenny or Dolly Parton. Or perhaps...a duet from the both? Oh yes. (That's Islands in the Stream for those of you who don't know.) So I will admit an affection for both Kenny and Dolly because they bring back very fond memories of my mom and my childhood. But I digress.
One area of the rodeo there I was never allowed to go in all my life was the (gasp) MIDWAY. Unbeknownst to me, the midway was apparently akin to the island of the donkey boys from Pinocchio. Immediately upon entrance carnies and ne'er-do-wells would snatch me up and either kidnap me right away or perform unspeakable acts of torture on me behind the frosty machine. Never mind the fact that all of my friends got to go every year, my parents just assured me that their scars were either emotional, or cleverly hidden by their school uniform. [1] I am now completely fascinated by the whole carnival atmosphere, where evil lives...and eats funnel cakes.
This year I will be attending the World Championship Bar-B-Que Contest as a guest of the award winning team, The Goody Girls. I plan on indulging in copious amounts of fantastic barbeque, yummy margaritas, and cowboys with cute butts in tight jeans. Yeah, you read that right. I think I need an evening with a cute cowboy. Oh well, I guess we'll see. More than likely I'll just show up, eat some ribs, try to sneak in to ride the ferris wheel and then get snatched up by white slavers. I'll send you guys a postcard from my new job as a stripper in Japan. Wheee!
[1] I'm obviously exaggerating this story. My parents are not crazy people who told me stories of my friends being abused at carnivals. But my mom does still listen to Dolly Parton. And I still don't get to go to the midway. DAMMIT. :)
I think your mother was followed home by a carnie and never got over it after a great carnival one year in the Weingarten parking lot! Those were the types she always attracted, the carnies, the hoods, the ne'r-do-wells. :-)
Posted by: T.Tommy | February 25, 2005 at 04:54 PM
Bahaha! Love it! Im forgoing the Houston Rodeo this year...too much work, not enough play...and sadly, the only day I might get to go is Austin County day...and I think thats the day Pat Green plays. Or Skynard. Not sure.
Posted by: Traci | February 25, 2005 at 05:56 PM
I officially suck.
No, Bombadil, that's not what I mean. *ugh*
Posted by: Tracy | February 28, 2005 at 04:43 PM