Rev. Erudite Redneck, B.S., B.S., M.A., M.Div.

The blur on the left is Dr. ER Niecelet Thing 2, age 9, during the calf scramble Saturday night at the Boomtown Rodeo outside Burkburnett, Texas.

It was too dark to shoot with my play camera -- the digital, good for snapshots only -- but I fired some off anyway. This one turned out sorta artsy, I think. She and her older sister, Dr. ER Niecelet Thing 1, were among 100 or so other kiddos chasin' calves in the calf scramble, one or two of which had ribbons tied to their tails (the calves, not the kids) good for a money prize or gift certificate or something. It is laughably ironic that Niecelet Thing 2 appears to have a halo in this picture. She is smart as a whip, willful as all get-out and a handful. Takes after her aunt, Dr. ER, that way.

It was the first-ever rodeo for Dr. ER Niecelet Thing 1, who is 13 I think, and Dr. ER Niecelet Thing 2, as well as Bird's boyfriend, YankeeBeau, who, hailin' from Massachusetts way, had never seen such.

They all had a big time -- except for during the "kill the cow part," as Niecelet Thing 1 put it, over and again, at increasing decibels. Bird and I, perpetuating the cultural-conventional wisdom, explained to her that calf roping doesn't *really* hurt the calves, it just looks like it hurts when they get roped and flipped and thrown to the ground and tied -- with any luck in 7 or 8 seconds flat. The fact is, most of those calves were at a rodeo last weekend, and will be at another rodeo next week -- and in the end, they will wind up as hamburger.

Niecelet Thing 2 got over the "kill the cow" part by the end of the night. I think seeing about 10 bulls face-plant about 10 cowboys in the dirt showed her that the man-beasty balance of power is about even at a rodeo.

It was a grand time, all in all.

When we pulled up, a young man sitting a horse and directin' traffic directed us and others in trucks capable of 4WD into a "parking lot" of deep sand, droughty grass and tumbleweeds. Others in more sissified vehicles were sent to a little more firmer terra firma.

Both niecelets got to ride an aged, trained (and somewhat sedated) Longhorn steer hitched to a circle walker. The more adventuresome of the two -- the young'un, who ate two or three of those big, solid-sugar pixie stick candies and gleefully tried her first-ever hot cinnamon toothpick provided by her Uncle ER -- complained that the Longhorn didn't go fast enough to suit her. She'd be a barrel racer if she could, I'm sure.

YankeeBeau declared the experience "awesome," even though, technically, he did not see "bull riding" per se, he only saw attempted bull riding, which, truthfully, can be just as fun to watch.

As we were leavin' we saw a big shootin' star in the Texas night sky. Nifty.

After I deposited a truckload of niecelets, their daddy, Mr. Sister Dr. ER, Bird and her YankeeBeau at Mama and Daddy Dr. ER's house, I then snuck to downtown Wichita Falls to an old haunt of mine and had a couple pints of coldbeer. Picked up a sack of Fritos and a little can of bean dip on the way home, had a post-midnight snack with some milk.

I then collapsed on the hotel couch so as to not disturb a snoozing Dr. ER, who had eschewed the rodeo in favor of one of the Indian casinos just north of Red River in Oklahoma, with Sister Dr. ER and Mama Mr. Sister Dr. ER, where she, Dr. ER, broke even after being several hundred ahead at one point.

It don't get much better than all that.

--ER