On the road 002

If the spirit of the west is disappearing, it has not vanished. A chili cook-off led us to the Bozeman, Montana Fairgrounds, which included the additional offerings of a livestock sale, craft fair, and local adult ice hockey.

All very different from more civilized events in the sophisticated corners of our great land. Out here everyone gets to play. Four dollars a head buys it all: everyone gets to taste some 40 pots of chili and vote (in California, judges decide for us); you don’t need a bidding paddle to enter the livestock sale (one of our group pointed toward the auctioneer and almost bought a stud horse); and several hundred people sit respectfully as a dozen “youngins” nervously clutch their prize chickens and answer serious questions on the care and feeding of same. Several were hardly bigger than the animals they so proudly displayed. I wonder if they even know of Brittney and Paris; when there are stalls to muck there is less time for TV.

Many of the men wear hats similar to mine, all brim, no bill, the kind that people in the east smirk at and mock. Even the jalapeno pepper eating contest was fun to watch. No gorging on hot dogs or cramming lemon meringue down the pie-hole, just a dozen college kids trying to win dinners for their girlfriends. Good fun, clean fun. In the same way that comedians like Dick Van Dyke made us laugh without being rude, crude, disgusting, or vicious, so have these folk found ways to enjoy life without resorting to excess. They’re not boisterous, they don’t laugh much, but they are content.

The day ended in a geothermal hot spring high in the mountains off a road half-way to Yellowstone. In return for promising not to pee in the pool, you are allowed to relax waist-deep in steaming water, sip adult beverages and gaze at crystal clear sky and stunningly bright stars as evening falls. The kind of day that leaves a smile on your face as you slip into contented slumber.

Sunday morning was reserved for walking down main street Bozeman in bright sunlight and 20 degree temperatures. Families, teens, collegegeans, all out for a stroll and possibly a light brunch. Simple, unadorned, and glorious.



Sitting recently in a doctor’s office, I became aware of a previously unheralded benefit of the chronic tardiness of the medical profession. Perusing 3 to 6 month old news magazines, I was told how McCain was dead, the Clinton juggernaut was about to make mincemeat of Obama, and a plethora of startling predictions that turned out so incorrect as to be snickerfodder. But the most telling observation was how forcefully the pundits put forth their prognostications. Few maybes and hardly a perhaps. And, today, of course, these same geniuses, with nary a guilty glance rearward, are bloviating a new batch of prophesy with the ring of absolute certitude. That we rush to consume their drivel says perhaps more about us than them.


Walking across the sprawling Montana State U. campus today, I was struck by how many of the students had cell phones glued to their ears. In a totally unscientific poll I observed the next 20 that passed me by, and 9 were in conversation.

I remember clearly my grandparent’s phone, unique such that neighbors asked to make use of it for a variety of (mostly) imagined life and death communications. Black, heavy, no dial. You lift the receiver, stare into it for a second or two, depress the button several times, and wait. “Good evening, Hilda, this is Harry,” announced my grandfather in an exaggerated tone of seriousness. “No, Harry from 3rd Street. Can you connect me with George?” “No, George from Walnut St.” “Thank you Hilde. Yes, I’ll wait.”

Long distance calls could take hours as mysterious “circuits” were untied. You place the call then sit and stare at the receiver, only to jump when the loud ring announced a connection.

Bill Gates has lamented that the pace of technology proceeds agonizingly slow. Well, it is clipping along quite fast enough for me, thank you very much.

Departing Montana, and next time I will be somewhere else.

the adventure continues…