For the love of Cowboys

Photo courtesy of DreamWorks Studios

When I think about men, which is often, I think about those macho types who come to rescue a damsel in distress. My mind automatically goes to the Wild West. A cowboy walks into the saloon with his hat tilted forward on his brow, the ruggedly handsome face hidden by shadows. His footsteps are heavy as his boot spurs make a clunking sound with every step. There is no need for a words, because he has spoken volumes already with just his presence.  I know that not all men are rough and tough, sometimes I wish that they were.   

A friend of mine asked me to photograph her family members while at a reunion.  I gladly brought my camera and began shooting pictures.  About an hour later a man walked in.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw him.  I turned my head to get a better look at the man. A cowboy. My heart skipped a beat at the vision I saw.  Sitting on his head was a hat made of straw with a decorative band neatly placed above the brim. His Texas style button down shirt with rolled up sleeves worn with tight fitting jeans caused my mind to go back to the saloon I envisioned earlier. His boots, pointed toe and all, finished off his ensemble. 

"I need your picture," I bravely said. "You look great!" 

He asked if his picture would end up on Facebook or some place similar. "Most likely," I said.  Then we made our way outside. 

"Can you try to look macho for me please?" 

"Cowboys aren't macho anymore," he said.  I beg to differ with him.