James M. Redwine

You deserve a break today

MOOrauders

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Peg and I bought a cabin on the prairie in Osage County, Oklahoma. It came furnished with bovines who appear to have formed a four legged resistance to a destiny as Big Macs. When we visited recently we drove across the cattle guard and were met by the steely gaze of the Leader of the Pack. He was mainly black but had a white Mark of Cain on his left jaw and sharp hooves which he pawed into the dirt as he snorted fire through his flaring nostrils.

Having grown up in cow country I was able to recognize that neither the Lead Steer nor any of the others retained the necessary accoutrements for bulls. Therefore, I advised Peg to relax as I directed her to get out of the pickup and wade through the herd to open the gate. Peg’s response will not be published! I eased open my door and took an aggressive stance as I met the Leader’s glare while I opened the iron gate.

Hurrying back to the truck I jumped in and sped through the herd while blaring the horn. Apparently, our friend and Peg’s favorite cowboy, The Honorable Johnny Kelley, Mayor of the fine metropolis of Barnsdall, Oklahoma who owns the cattle, uses the horn and siren of his feed truck to announce it’s dinner time. Instead of driving the cows off our truck horn enticed the Leader to menacingly advance toward us along with thirty of his gang.

We managed to negotiate our way up to our cabin and slip inside as the hungry cattle voiced their displeasure with our behavior. Peg and I barricaded ourselves inside the cabin as the Leader circled his troops around it. We waited for nightfall hoping the cattle were on an eight hour workday and that when darkness came the cows would bed down.

Just after the moon appeared and bathed the prairie with silver light I cautiously opened the cabin door and was chagrined to see the Leader fixated on my position. His backup troops were edging their way up to the four newly set cedar posts that hold up the overhang attached to our new barn. As the cattle began to scratch their seven hundred plus pound bodies against the obviously challenged posts I knew something had to be done. I hollered for Peg.

Peg loudly yelled something that sounded like a word describing a cow byproduct as she shoved me outside with a blanket to shoo away the bold bovines. I noticed the blanket was red as Peg slammed the cabin door behind me.

Gingerly making my way toward Leader Steer I yelled and flapped the blanket. Whether the Leader would bolt or charge was highly in doubt until I remembered an old McDonald’s television commercial that I began to sing as loudly as my scared vocal chords would allow:

“You deserve a break today!
So get out and get away
To McDonald’s!”

Then I shouted, “Two all beef patties or get away from my barn”. Upon reflection, Leader must have decided I wasn’t worth the effort as he unceremoniously turned his backside toward me and sauntered away with his subjects in tow. Of course, he may have just found my singing not to his liking; everyone’s a critic. Now, Gentle Reader, if someone will just come rescue us, Peg and I can leave the cabin and head back to Indiana where most cattle know their place.

What’s It All About?

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When a non-English speaking person appears in an Indiana courtroom the judge can call the Indiana Supreme Court hotline and get access to a certified translator. But what can we do when the words spoken by others do not fit into one of the world’s 6,500 languages?

When one watches mothers with babies it is obvious the babies feel the unquestioned love. However, as we age meanings get fuzzier. Mothers might urge general cautions to young children then threaten unspecified mayhem to teenagers.

Grandmothers may impart gentle lessons on useful crafts while grandfathers might impress grandchildren with stories that could be true.

As to fathers, many children are left to decipher what is meant by a grunt or a pointed index finger.

In elementary school we get direct teachings on such important life lessons as where and how to line up our things and how not to bother the things of others.

In junior high school teachers help us to face the unwelcome realization we are not as cute as we thought. And in high school it slowly begins to sink in that not only are we not cute, but we might even be required to do some work. However, it is in college where we are made to understand that what we say is usually not treasured by others.

Should you have been sentenced to participate in athletics at any level, your coaches most likely considered shouted invective a proper means of communication. And if you ever went through basic training in the military you are probably still laboring under a cloud of expletive ladened non-explanations for completing completely worthless tasks.

Those of you who, as was I, were reared in some religion may have often been mystified by lessons rolled into parables or analogies. Of course, that was more comfortable than the threats of eternal damnation.

In contemporary life we may find it difficult to communicate with other groups. For example, older people may hear gibberish spoken by the young and simply write them off as spoiled. On the other hand, the young may simply write the old off as old.

When politicians speak it is often to portray their opponents as liars or corrupt while the news media makes no effort to analyze any complicated issue. To take guidance from either of these groups is to proceed without a safety net.

I am not sure what advertisers want me to buy. It used to be some normal person would sing a little ditty such as, “You deserve a break today”, and I would pull into McDonald’s. Now when I watch TV I have no clue what I am supposed to waste my money on.

Movies are no longer, “Your best entertainment”. When Dirty Harry said, “Go ahead, make my day”, I got it. However, when the hero or heroine of a movie is a machine run amok, I might as well have saved the twenty bucks it cost for a Coke and popcorn.

But now that you have struggled to almost the end of these examples of non-communication, the ultimate human foreign language must be mentioned, Female Speak. I ask you, why can’t wives simply say what they mean? What occurred in the Garden of Eden to render asunder understanding between the sexes? One example is all I have space left for.

You may have noticed it is spring. Well, so has Peg. And when spring arrives at JPeg Ranch communication between Peg and me exits as the hummingbirds and onion sets appear.

I ask you, Gentle Reader, is it a felony to lie on the couch on Saturday morning? When Peg mumbles under her breath, “The garden looks like it needs tilling”, how am I supposed to gain from that she wants me to immediately drop my coffee and attack the unoffending soil?

How about, “Jim, would you please till the garden?” I would have got that; a daylong period of icy silence would have been unnecessary.