Tales from the O-NO Ranch
Gentle readers, let’s sit around the table this morning and make a little medicine or, in other words, have some small talk.
I went out to feed the ponies this morning only to discover why I haven’t seen my steers for a couple of days. They had wandered in the back corral where the squeeze chute is and managed to get the gate closed behind them and seemed to be in good shape, all chewin’ their cuds.
After church yesterday I made a little run up in the mountains on Bubba with my lady friend and enjoyed some cool mountain breezes and that wonderful mountain scent that lingers in the trees.
Jerry owns about 50 or 51 motorcycles (he can’t remember exactly how many) so he is a good source of information when I get to visit with him. He lives in Nebraska and only comes down once in a while to visit friends here at Wellington who are also bikers. We got into a discussion about wearing helmets when riding those iron ponies. Jerry never wears a helmet. He says they will break your neck when you have a collision and you can’t hear nor see as well with a helmet on. I took that all into consideration trying to visualize hitting a large object at 60 or 70 miles an hour or laying your bike down on the pavement and letting your head slide along at that speed without a helmet. I’m sorta thinking it might be better to get your neck broke than to survive and have reconstructive surgery only to come out lookin’ like Herman Munster.
That evening I’m watchin’ the news and they reported that 13 percent of all accident victims are baby boomers on motorcycles and of those not wearing helmets, almost all are fatal. Well now, that was a relief because I’m just a few years older than the current baby boomers so I reckon I don’t have reason to fret over the issue.
I’m really tired of hearing about Paris Hilton, Nicole Smith, Brad Pitt and those two stupid whales that swam up the river and had the news media all worked up and slobbering over how to get them back to the ocean. How about a little more sympathy for some of the children in Darfur, Africa, and their fight for survival?
I’m glad ole Paris got sent back to jail ” what a disgusting human being she is. I understand she’s in a hospital ward crying her little eyes out because her mommy can’t get her out of jail. I bet you and I could get along in life a lot easier than Paris, given the opportunity to have her assets, don’t you? I heard a comedian say one time that Paris Hilton has proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that you don’t have to be poor to be white trash! I agree.
Well, the coffee pot’s almost empty, I need to pack the wheel bearings on my stock trailer and consult with a computer person about this ole dog I’m using. It must be kin to Roger Thompson’s computer. Of course I found out that if you don’t upgrade these little puppies every now and then you can expect to have problems. I never have upgraded mine. I’m not a computer person ” I just play one on T.V.
That’s it, I’m outta’ here for this week. Hope ya enjoyed our little visit.
Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion and I’ll c. ya.
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From June through September, John Etchart spends most of the day driving a tractor through hayfields below the mountains near Meeker in northwestern Colorado.