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Respite and Nepenthe

September 7, 2023 by Peg Leave a Comment

Photo by Peg Redwine

Edgar Allan Poe in The Raven holds out little hope for relief from the memories of the lost Lenore. Poe seeks respite in the mythical ancient Greek beverage, nepenthe, that causes forgetfulness. In those Dog Days of summer where August made the fires of hell sound inviting, respite and nepenthe finally arrived in September on the wings of the forward pass. Gentle Reader, allow me to quote my favorite author on our salvation from the hades of 100℉ temperatures:

“The crisp autumn air. The dry brown grass. Sweaty pads and the exhilaration of combat without weapons.
The kind of battle where one can experience the thrill of having been shot at and missed without even being shot at.
Football! Ersatz war. Clashes of pride, power and cunning.”

Echoes of our Ancestors: The Secret Game, p. vii
By James M. Redwine

Football has returned and the grass is going dormant. The experts may assert there is no connection but I say the frequency of mowing is inverted to my several favorite teams’ re-emergence in game day uniforms. Somehow the same weather that keeps me from doing outside chores does not hinder me from sitting in the heat for four hours watching boys and men shoving an inflated pig bladder covered with cowhide back and forth.

Perhaps it is because I no longer have to endure the two-a-day early morning and evening practices nor the inane exhortations of coaches who themselves also no longer must do so, but watching others play football sure beats working in the heat. In fact, Peg and I have already been jiggling our schedules so we can follow the Hoosiers, the Cowboys and the Sooners on Saturday. Our new season hopes are high but any disappointments can be assuaged with guacamole, chips and cold beer. Besides, even though we may have the occasional opportunity to attend a game in person, normally we will be sitting on the couch in 72-degree air conditioning while others entertain us with their sweat and blood and give us an excuse to leave the lawnmowers put away. I would not want you to think Peg and I have not had to make our own hard choices during the football season. For example, we had to get up at 5 o’clock in the morning to watch the 2023 Super Bowl when we were in the country of Georgia; it was tough.

Anyway, thank you to all those who have sacrificed their August sweating and preparing and now their autumn struggling for our relief. We truly appreciate it and will frequently raise a parting glass in your honor.

Photo by Peg Redwine

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Filed Under: Authors, Females/Pick on Peg, Football, Gavel Gamut, Indiana University, Oklahoma State University, Oklahoma University, Personal Fun, Sports Tagged With: cowboys, dog days of summer, Edgar Allan Poe, football, Hoosiers, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, Lenore, Sooners, The Raven

Cowboy Up!

August 23, 2019 by Peg Leave a Comment

Before October 4, 1957 when the Soviet Union launched Sputnik 1 American boys knew who they admired and what they wanted to be, cowboys. From the days of Hoot Gibson and Tom Mix to Hopalong Cassidy and the Durango Kid until Gene Autry and Roy Rogers boys of all backgrounds dreamed the same dream. Then America watched as our global boogeyman leapfrogged over us and put us in fear of destruction from above. Cowboys’ six guns became obsolete and American boys, girls too, dreamed of being astronauts. John Glenn orbited the earth aboard a new fire-breathing steed and from 1957 until Clint Eastwood’s movie The Good, The Bad and The Ugly that came out in 1966 during the throes of the Viet Nam War American boys left cowboys in the dust. However, since this is America, a sense of emergency and panic can only be maintained a short while before we revert to our roots.

As a one-time American boy I made the same progression. I fell back from my completely unrealistic dream of becoming a physicist to my only somewhat unrealistic, albeit subdued and hidden yearning, to be a cowboy. Returning to the days of Gene Autry was much easier than facing the reality that I will not be helping to settle Mars. However, the declining dreams of a young boy are themselves sometimes painful to reconstruct when one is separated from them by time. But the fates did recently allow me an opportunity to kind of revisit those thrilling days of yesteryear. I got to herd one cow.

Now, when I was playing cowboys and Indians with the neighborhood boys in Pawhuska, Osage County, Oklahoma in the 1950’s several of my friends were, in fact, real Indians and several of them were, in fact, the sons of real cowboys. Of course, since we boys had not yet had the advantage of adult myopia we were unaffected by the niceties of who was supposed to be what. We all were whatever the scenario we thought up called for. Alas, we grew up, sort of.

However, let me return to my recent opportunity to turn back the clock to the dreams of grade school days. When Peg and I bought a cabin in rural Osage County a few months ago we not only found a new home but also a new friend who was the prior owner and a real cowboy. How lucky was that? Anyway, Johnny runs some cattle on our place and those cattle are like the rest of us; they do not always stay put. Occasionally a cow will find its way out onto the public road. Such was the case yesterday. So, as my brother and I were heading to Bartlesville about 20 miles from our cabin to run errands for Peg, we encountered a large black cow with a white face happily munching on the right-of-way bluestem grass. I saw my chance to live that five-year-old boy’s dreams.

I jumped out of my pickup and approached that cow with a confidence that can only come from ignorance. As I got closer and closer to the bovine behemoth, instead of her fearing me as I anticipated she took the attitude of a large animal upset by someone interrupting her dinner. Having neither horse nor rope nor the ability to use either had I had them I retreated and called for backup on my cell phone.

“Johnny, it’s Jim. One of your cows is out.”

“Jim, I’m in Oklahoma City.”

“Johnny, what the devil do you want me to do?”

“Why, nothing Jim, unless you want to. I’ll be back in The Osage in a few hours and I’ll deal with it. This is cowboy work.”

Well, Johnny is obviously a true psychologist as that last statement cut deep into my boyhood psyche. I just clicked off my phone and girded my loins up about me as I ran towards Miss Bossie and waved my arms. Apparently she was so amused she decided to amble back into her pasture and I shut the gate behind her.

Now I know some of you Gentle Readers are probably thinking this event may not be quite as impressive as The Lone Ranger cleaning out a nest of rustlers. But to me it’s just a matter of degree. They both qualify for cowboy status. My dreams have finally come true. I’m going to buy a hat and boots and find a drugstore where I can prop my boots up on the bar rail, tip my hat back and sip a sarsaparilla.

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Filed Under: America, Gavel Gamut, JPeg Osage Ranch, Oklahoma, Osage County, Russia Tagged With: Astronauts, bluestem grass, cattle, Clint Eastwood, cowboys, Durango Kid, Gene Autry, Gentle Readers, Hoot Gibson, Hopalong Cassidy, Indians, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, John Glenn, Johnny Kelley, Oklahoma, Osage County, Pawhuska, Roy Rogers, sarsaparilla, Soviet Union, Sputnik 1, Tom Mix

It Would Be An Honor, However …

July 12, 2019 by Peg 2 Comments

Jim Redwine July 4, 2019

Peg and I and several members of the Redwine family were fortunate to have been included in last week’s New Harmony, Indiana Fourth of July Celebration. It was a community effort with fine music, an excellent reading of the Declaration of Independence by our friend and neighbor Chuck Minnette and copious amounts of hot dogs and ice cream. I was honored to be included as a speaker.

Reporter and photographer Lois Mittino Gray of the Posey County News did an excellent job of capturing the essence of America’s Birthday celebration and I truly appreciated her kind remarks. I also understand how someone named Redwine who was born on the Osage Indian Nation in Pawhuska, Oklahoma and who wore an Osage inspired patriotic vest could be assumed to be a member of the great Osage Tribe. While such an honor would be a source of great pride for me, alas, while I have numerous Osage, and other Indian tribe friends, I am not a tribal member.

Growing up in Osage County I played sports with and against Osages. I attended church and public schools with Osages. I count Osages among my best friends and treasure our memories and current relationships. I have always felt accepted and respected as a friend, teammate, schoolmate and competitor by my Osage friends. But the great privilege of being an actual Osage must remain in the realm of desire, not reality.

Gentle Reader, should you wish to encounter a culture where the Osage Tribe and several other justly proud Indian peoples will welcome you as they always have me and my family, I recommend you plan an excursion to Pawhuska, Oklahoma. You will find buffalo (bison), miles of virgin prairie on the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve, the Osage Tribal Museum, the Osage County Historical Museum, Woolaroc Museum, cowboys of the non-drugstore type, rodeos and the Pioneer Woman’s Mercantile among just some of the fun and enriching things to experience. You may even encounter Peg and me and other members of the Redwine family as Osage County and Pawhuska may not officially designate us as Osage, but we all have always proudly claimed the culture and heritage of that special place.

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Filed Under: America, Events, Family, Gavel Gamut, New Harmony, Oklahoma, Osage County, Patriotism Tagged With: 4th of July Celebration, bison, Chuck Minnette, cowboys, Declaration of Independence, Gentle Reader, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, Lois Mittino Gray, New Harmony Indiana, Osage County, Osage County Historical Museum, Osage Indian Nation, Osage Tribal Museum, Pawhuska Oklahoma Osage Tribe, Pioneer Woman’s Mercantile, Posey County News, Redwine family, rodeos, Tallgrass prairie Preserve, Woolaroc Museum

A Yankee Girl Does Rodeo

May 3, 2019 by Peg Leave a Comment

America consists of four countries: (1) everything east of the Mississippi River excluding Florida; (2) Florida, (3) everything west of the Mississippi River excluding California; and, (4) California. Rodeos are the province of people in country (3) although some folks in Florida and California do know there is no accent on the term rodéo except for a certain drive in Beverly Hills frequented by the frou-frou set.

Yankees, that is almost all of those people in countries (1) (2) and (4) snub their noses at those of us from country (3). Yankees tend to talk funny while casting aspersions on the pleasing western drawls of those of us from country (3), and Yankees dress odd while failing to appreciate western wear. In sum, some Yankees want to ignore country (3) even to the point of eliminating the Electoral College and bribing their way into colleges most of those in country (3) would not wish to attend. After all, could real Americans root for colleges whose colors are pastels?

It was important issues such as these that coursed through my brain as Peg, who was born in New York, and I attended a rodeo in Osage County, Oklahoma last week. I was left with the conclusion that Yankee girls and rodeos may not be the best fit. Perhaps you will agree once I relate Peg’s take on the Roy Clark Memorial Championship Rodeo held April 26 and 27, 2019 in Pawhuska, Osage County, Oklahoma.

Peg was fine with and impressed by the opening ceremonies that started with a cowgirl mounted on a horse and carrying the United States flag. That cowgirl was followed by another mounted cowgirl carrying the state flag of Oklahoma then by five more cowgirls riding around the arena with flags of the Air Force, Army, Marines, Navy and Coast Guard. As the flags were displayed “The Star Spangled Banner” was sung, the Pledge of Allegiance was recited and a long prayer was given. Then the rodeo events began. That’s also when Peg began to inquire about such things as calves, steers, horses and bulls feeling put upon by such things as cowboys, cowgirls, ropes and stock handlers.

“Jim, that cowboy roped that calf around the neck while it was running full speed and abruptly jerked it to a stop by reigning in his horse. Doesn’t that hurt and isn’t that cruel and inhumane?”

“I suppose so, but not ever having been roped, I don’t know. I note the calf jumped up and trotted off looking fine.”

“Well I beg to differ, you chased me until I roped you in, although sometimes I wonder why I did. Anyway, Jim, the announcer said the cowboy tied up three of the calf’s legs with a ‘piggin string’ he carried in his teeth. Where are the pigs?”

“There are no pigs in rodeos unless you are on a farm back east. It’s just a term of art.”

“It seems like almost all the cowboys who try to ride the bucking horses and bulls get thrown off. Doesn’t that hurt? And, where’s the art in that?”

“Yes, it hurts about like getting hit by a 300 pound football player. However, if they hang on for 8 seconds they can win prize money. It’s all part of the rodeo experience, Peg.”

“Jim, I don’t think it’s fair they penalize the cowgirl barrel racers for knocking over a barrel. Why don’t they set the barrels up so they won’t fall over?”

“Because then the cowgirls would go flying over the saddle horns when the horse hits a barrel.”

“Jim, in that team roping thingy why don’t they just set a large circle of rope down on the arena floor and shoo the steer’s hind legs into it?”

“Because that is not what happens on a ranch when cattle are being worked. Rodeos are based on actual ranch work and steers have to be rounded up on a ranch.”

“Jim, do you think we’ll see Sam Elliott here tonight?”

“Are you ready to leave? Maybe we’ll go see a movie. Perhaps you’ll see Sam there.”

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Filed Under: America, Events, Females/Pick on Peg, Florida, Gavel Gamut, Oklahoma, Osage County, Personal Fun Tagged With: a Yankee girl does rodeo, America, barrel racers, Bribing way into college, bulls, calves, cowboys, cowgirls, electoral college, horses, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, Oklahoma, opening ceremonies, Osage County, Pawhuska, Peg, piggin string, Pledge of Allegiance, ropes, Roy Clark Memorial Championship Rodeo, Sam Elliott, steers, stock handlers, The Star Spangled Banner, Yankee

The Pioneer Women

November 11, 2016 by Peg Leave a Comment

Forty-four miles west of my hometown Pawhuska, Oklahoma, in Ponca City a bronze statue honors the spirit of the women who were vital to America’s western expansion. This Pioneer Woman is depicted striding valiantly forward while leading her child. Her faith and fortitude shine forth.

As a child growing up in Pawhuska I remember staring at the statue with my mother, a true pioneer herself, as she recalled how she and her mother had arrived in Oklahoma before there was an Oklahoma and before women could vote. They came in a covered wagon. Women pioneers were and still are the best America has to offer.

In between Ponca City and Pawhuska lies the heart of the Osage Indian Nation and the Drummond Ranch. It is a beautiful expanse of tall waving prairie grasses. Nearby, thousands of buffalo (American bison) roam freely on the Nature Conservancy’s thirty-nine thousand acre Tall Grass Prairie Preserve. The Drummond family has operated their ranch for over a hundred years. And about a hundred years ago the immigrant from Scotland who started the ranch was operating a general store he named the Osage Mercantile Company on the corner of Main Street and Kihekah Avenue in Pawhuska. On October 31, 2016 Ree and Ladd Drummond reopened it to the pleasure and wonderment of thousands of the new Pioneer Woman’s fans.

If you do not watch The Food Network on television you may not have heard of The Pioneer Woman. However, when Ree published her first cookbook my sister, another pioneering woman, bought a copy of it and gave it to my wife, Peg, for Christmas. It was the beginning of a true FAN-atic following of Ree’s televised life by Peg. Then when it turned out my old friend and classmate, Chuck Drummond, was Ladd’s father and Ree’s father-in-law, Peg was near euphoria. Peg found this out at my 50th high school reunion when Ree hosted the class for breakfast at the Lodge on the Drummond Ranch in 2011.

Now, I truly enjoyed the maple-glazed cinnamon rolls and buttermilk biscuits with sausage gravy but, since I had never, until then, known about the gracious lady and wonderful cook called “The Pioneer Woman”, I just saw it as a chance to reminisce with Chuck. Peg on the other hand was like a teenager next to Brittany Spears.

Fast-forward six years to the gala opening of Ree’s new Mercantile Building. It reminded me of my first visit to Disneyland in 1963. It was exhilarating, fun and very tasty. In the two days my family and several thousand people from Alaska to Alabama bought cookbooks, merchandise and copious helpings of great food Pawhuska was changed forever and for the better.

If you are looking to find the Old West in new clothes, buffalo, Native Americans, cowboys, good food and gracious southwestern hospitality, you might want to go visit both of The Pioneer Women who inhabit the old Cherokee Strip of northeastern Oklahoma.

Peg Redwine & Ree Drummond at the Drummond Ranch 2011
Peg Redwine & Ree Drummond at The Mercantile Building opening 2016
Peg Redwine & Ree Drummond at The Mercantile Building opening 2016

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Filed Under: Females/Pick on Peg, Gavel Gamut, Oklahoma, Personal Fun Tagged With: buffalo, Cherokee Strip of northeastern Oklahoma, Chuck Drummond, cowboys, Drummond Ranch, Ladd Drummond, Native Americans, Nature Conservancy, Oklahoma, Old West, Osage Indian Nation, Osage Mercantile, Pawhuska, Pioneer Woman, Ree Drummond, southwestern hospitality, Tall Grass Prairie Preserve, The Food Network, The Mercantile Building

© 2025 James M. Redwine

 

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