Winter                                           Seed Catalog Moon

Gabe, to whom I read some of my blog entry about our trip to the Children’s Museum, asked me, as we were walking away from the MLK Rodeo, “Grandpop, write about baby animals.  About how cute they are and how I love them.”  We’d just seen a Holstein and her calf bedded down for the night in a pen behind the Denver Coliseum.

This was our usually annual visit to the stock show.  (I missed last year with another round of doggy surgery and expense.)  We go walk through the exhibits, look at farm equipment, see livestock exhibitions, admire the Cinch cruel denim ads, the cowboy hats and boots for sale, the cattle stalls and leather vests.  One booth, Colorado Tanners, had hides  and pelts which could be made into anything you want.  Can’t forget the really big belt buckles, lots of’em.

It was busy this year because we came on MLK day.  In the past I’ve tried to hit weekdays when the crowds are smaller.  This time, though, I wanted to take the kids especially to the MLK rodeo with all African-American cowboys and cowgirls.  It was a good choice, as it turned out, but it meant the holiday crowds were there.

106 years old this is the largest stock in the world by number of animals involved.  It’s a big deal and people come from all over to participate.  I always see folks with Iowa State sweat-shirts, for example.

The rodeo announcer distinguished himself as a racist, saying, “There’s one thing about this crowd.  They’ve got rhythm.”  But worse, at another point, when a second announcer described a 24-year old cowgirl as looking 14, the announcer said, “But that never stopped you did it.”  This tarnished the event for me. Which is putting it mildly.

The events themselves though were good.  Calf-roping, considered a high art among the rodeo crowd, was good. (if you weren’t the calf.) So was the bronc-riding and the barrel racers.

When we got back to the hotel, Ruth grabbed me and said, “I don’t want you to go Grandpop.”  Gabe came around the car and gave me a big hug.  So did Jon and Jen.  It was family.  Three generations appreciating each other.  Wow.