Written By Kenneth Kinder

I have been experiencing conflicting emotions of happiness and sadness lately. In part I suppose due to the death of my sister Firelan Harvey, and the birth of my grandson Dallas Kenneth Ljung. I guess this is part of the healing process that a person goes through dealing with the loss of a loved one. My sister was 13 years older than me, and since the death of my mother in 1966 she had served as a surrogate mother at times. I miss her very much, and part of my way of coping is reading. I will read almost anything, books, newspapers, matchbook covers, personalized license plates, tee shirts etc. Anything except Rush Limbaughs Newsletter.

So that is what I was doing the other day while I was taking a walk, I was reading the writing on the back of the tee shirt of the person walking in front of me. It went something like this. Cowboys still do ride horses, only not just one at a time. They have 454 cubic inches penned in eight cylinders, and screaming don’t stop for water. Rip roaring, asphalt burning , turbo charged horses for today’s Billy Bob hollering out tame me if you can.

Well now I thought, maybe that is what I have been all my life is a closet cowboy, only one problem. I am scared of horses, and they sense it and take advantage of my fear in terrible way’s. They either want to drown me in a lake, or roll over on me and break all my bones, needless to say neither one of these approaches was acceptable to this Okie boy. So my solution to this problem was to find a horse that I could ride. And they came in all forms. Cars, trucks, motorcycles, snowmobiles, tractors, forklifts, etc. but none that had four legs.

My point is that I believe a cowboy is a state of mind and there are a lot of them alive and well today. Some ride horses some don’t but they all have a few things in common.

I received an article from my cousin Ann in Texas a while back. It was written by John R. Erickson about a cowboy’s dislike for the practice of wearing neck-ties. This article described in great detail the reason that he became a cowboy and the number one reason was the fact that the only time they wore a tie was when they went to a funeral. Now on the subject of ties, there seem to be three groups of men you never see without a tie. The first group contains businessmen: bankers, lawyers, sales reps, accountants, executives and so forth. I have often wondered who decreed that businessmen wear ties. Any practice that is so universal must have been decreed by law, yet where did the law come from? Who laid it down and who enforces it?

And nowadays it’s not just the men who are wearing ties. Women in business are wearing them too, along with their shoulder pads and high heel shoes. Anyone who has to wear high heels and a tie in the same day deserves our pity. That has to be the worst, most uncomfortable combination of clothing ever devised. The second group of men who are never seen without a tie are our politicians. In deed, we might define a congressman or senator as a dedicated individual who is incapable of voting for a balanced budget or against a pay raise for himself, and who always appears in public wearing a $30 tie. Do they remove their ties at bedtime and when they take a shower? We don’t know. All we can say is that there is some mysterious connection between the workings of our government and the wearing of a tie. Maybe it is some type of a conspiracy against the public at large.

Now we do have photographic evidence that politicians sometimes loosen their ties. If you study their campaign literature, you’ll notice they always loosen their ties before walking through drought parched-fields and construction sites.

As I understand it, the gesture of the loosened tie is supposed to convince us this guy understands drought-parched fields and construction sites. A couple of months working in the fields or on that job site might be more convincing, but that wouldn’t fit the format of the 30 second TV ad. What could be so special about wearing a tie? I have asked myself that question hundreds of times as I have been out walking, and watching men pass by pawing at their ties and looking miserable. My best guess is that when a man puts on a tie, he is saying , “ I am a gentleman now. You can be assured that I won’t do anything crazy. Who could do anything crazy while being strangled?”

If my theory is correct, then the wearing of a tie indicates that the wearer has promised to be a good guy. But that brings us to the third group that can always be counted on to wear ties: scoundrels.

All scoundrels appear in court wearing a tie. It doesn’t matter who they are or what they have done: mass murderers, assassins, petty thieves, ex-husbands who have been dodging their child support, politicians on the take, mobsters, drug lords. We will never know how they appeared when they were swinging axes and shooting guns and slipping bribe money into their pockets, but when they stand before the bar of justice, they wear suits and ties. It’s really confusing when the bad guy’s start wearing ties. Even the Russians are wearing them now. We should either pass a law prohibiting the bad guy’s from wearing ties or surrender the territory to the crooks and villains. Let them have the ties. Nobody deserves to wear a tie more than a scoundrel. In fact, we might incorporate that into their sentence.

But that’s not likely to happen. We just barely have the will to impose capital punishment, much less a form of torture like wearing a tie for 15 or 20 years.

The last time I flew across country in an airplane I must admit it gave me great comfort to see the flight crew wearing ties. If they had showed up in boots, spurs, chaps and open neck shirts. I might have been forced to walk back to California.

My heros have always been cowboys, but I don’t want one in the cockpit at 35,000 feet. I will leave the cowboy in the cockpit job to my brother-inlaw John Cox, who is completely lost in the heavens without the aid of highways to follow, or names of towns published on top of their hangers.

I am hoping that my granddaughter, and grandson both become cowboys as the cowboys have qualities that we should all try and copy. Honesty, dedication, patriotism, love of home and country, and the desire to leave our country better than they received it.

My sister Firelan’s favorite football team, was America’s team the Dallas Cowboy’s, and my brand new grandsons name is Dallas. So maybe somebody up there is trying to tell this cowboy to accept the changing of the guard, and be happy in the memories of my sister, and rejoice in all that lays ahead with the adventures I am to share with my new grandson. I just can’t believe it was a coincidence that my grandson Dallas was born on the day we buried my sister.

The weather in California has really been beautiful the past few weeks, and it won’t be long before I saddle up the old motorhome and head for Caples creek with my granddaughter Jessica and drown some worms. She is still unhappy with me for not letting her do some fishing the last time we were there. We had a very nice Easter, and the following Sunday a large group of our family had a beautiful brunch. Compliments of aunt Bea. Cowboy Ken.

This picture was taken just shortly before we lost our sweet sister. Neal...Sister...Ken. We miss her so much.