Kid,
I personal like to express my favor of concealed carry when it's time
to be discrete and I favor open carry at other times.
But all this one sidedness is getting old, the ones that voice it so loudly
for either side, reminds me of an ol story told by a cowboy poet.
I'll paraphrase here to shorten it a bit,
Once there was a bronc peeler that hired on this western outfit,
before he'd un-rolled his bed in the bunkhouse he was get his story set.
He let all and sundried know that he was an ol time hand and hoped
this outfit had some horses a real hand could ride with pride.
He claimed to have rode em awful tough from Canadian all the way to out Arizona way,
He sed, "Ya got to set em salty or they's jar ya to the gills."
Wells one day ol Lash drawed a little brown pony that sur nuf had some buck and bawl in him....
The little hoss set this bronc peeler afoot for the third time that day.
When the kid that was helpin the cook stepped up and says, "Let me give that lil'l dun a whirl".
The kid swung up in the saddle as light as a feather and took himself a deep seat before the pony
knew he was mounted...That horse bogged his head and set into a pitchin, landing on one foot then
the other, jump high and rolling his bell toward the sun, but this broncy colt couldn't set the boy on
the ground. The kid reached up and spur'd a lick er two just for show.
When the lit'l dun had had enough the stood stock still as the dust did settle,
the kid stepped to the ground and giving his hat a whirl he sezs to Lash La Rue,
"Now ya can give him to yur girl." (Seems like Cookie's helper was a bronc peeler too)
And this, as in most cases, the toughest horses a big mouth rides...Is in some other places.
Su Amigo,
Dave
.
