Cowboys

Last week I had a meeting with the Department Head from the University where I graduated. I was a little amused, since Dr. Y is probably not like many department heads in some respects.

I made an appointment to go see him to keep in touch, I am looking for a job and I am not above using the Good Ole Boy network to get one. I chose Agriculture and sometimes it is about who you know to get your foot in the door. You still have to know how to do the job once you get there, and I have that covered. Since I have essentially restricted myself by looking for a job in the area I am moving to, not following job opportunities, I need all the help I can get.

I smiled broadly as he called a few people on my behalf and said "Now we got to help Nora get a job, she knows what she's doing dammit and she knows how to get things done." I couldn't help but be mildly amused as I pondered that even though we are talking about a College of Agriculture in a mid sized University in an out of the way place in the world, I doubt many Department Heads put their boots up on their desk and get a piece of chaw while they twirl their handlebar mustache. In fact I don't know of another one in this university, even though it's not unusual to see a few in cowboy hats.

He is a real cowboy. Now some of you may know what I mean by that, and some of you may not. I do mean that he knows how to get an ornery cow into a squeeze chute, but I also mean that in terms of a style, a code of ethics, an overall good guy. He has a ranch, and one year the student club wanted to get him a present, and we bought him a full truckload of hay. He couldn't have been more pleased.

I couldn't help but think how the real cowboy is a dying breed. Most of them have other jobs, since cowboying doesn't pay so well. They are a little rough around the edges, but most have hearts of gold, and are like time capsules of the old west. I'm glad there are still a few around.