It turns out that I am a redneck woman living in hippy disguise. On Friday night, I got all gussied up in a new denim sundress, shaved my legs, put on lipstick, and went out with my husband (who does sinful things to a pair of jeans, even if his belt buckle is . . . a tad small . . .) to a rodeo. And had fun. Lots of fun. I'll pause while you pick yourself off the floor.
I grew up in a town with a Fourth of July Rodeo, too. Not like this rodeo, though. The St. Paul Rodeo in Oregon is pretty darn special. So special that the entire town seems to have built up around it, until you are no longer sure which supports the other. Land sales take into consideration the 4-day a year revenue from parking, and proximity to the fireworks. The town sign declares Rodeo first, with population as an afterthought. And, if that wasn't enough, the arena IS the center of town. The ENTIRE center of town.
