What's next?????

So Mr. Holloway challenged us, yet again, to attending the Professional Bull Riders competition at our local ArcoArena.. Tickets, Wranglers and boots purchased....we were “in!”

While initally I have a internal struggle, wondering if I could truly enjoy the event outta concern over the poor Bulls. Ya know that they put a strap or belt over their “b@lls!?” That would make me angry tooo. So I consulted my best friend, who's as big of an animal lover as I am. I asked her if she thought that I could “handle it?” First she looked at me, to verify I wasn't joking and agreed that we were both equal in our love of animals... then confirmed that I would LOVE it. She not only convinced me that I was in for a great time, she actually was jealous that they weren't going too!

Rich and I donned our new duds and started the evening with David, from Rich's work, for dinner. Both men in hats..Rich in his brand spanking new...black hat and David's white hat, whip stitched with rawhide, was more authentic...as David actually rides horses. Then we headed into the arena, through a sea of plaid, mustaches and dare I say, tight jeans, big hair and a dash of cleavage! The marketing at these events is huge, from Ford, Stanley tools, Dickies work wear, Ariat boots, Jack Daniels, Wranglers, Jeep ect. You are bombarded.

The show started with huge iron/silver bull heads pumping out flames through their nostrils and blazing red eyes. Then we were blessed with an announcer who was a mixed of Larry the Cable Guy, Richard Simmons and Robin Williams. The combination of humor, rock n roll music, lights and wafting testosterone set the stage to redefine just exactly how long 8 seconds could last. There were 6 gates that the riders were launched from. I didn't exactly know which would open and unleash the next combination of terror, power, fury and ferocity (its that belt thang again). But after the first ride...I was into it. Its combines the ceremony of the visual (thank you big screen )of the strapping your hand in, calming the bull enough that he didn't kill the rider in the stall, whipping open of the door. Some came out like a shot and bucked...others bucked out...it was crazy with the dirt and snot flying. All the excitement freezes though when a rider is hurt...the clowns (crazy profession-but so valuable) react quick to get the bulls away from the rider, so an assessment can be made of exactly just how hurt they may be. Just writing this and remembering is stressing me out again...because we saw one rider get really hurt. To see someone's head get stomped on is sobering and can silence an entire stadium. But the show must go on...so they wheeled one rider out and had the next one launched out. The endorphins, adrenaline and beer made the night zip by and damn that Brian was right-it was AWESOME!

I draw the line at Monster Trucks...Brian I don't care what you say-I ain't doin' it!!!