Rodeo!

We've lived here in Houston for - sigh - two years. And in those two years, I had yet to make it to he Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo (or whatever it's official name is). Gary and the girls have been, but the year they went - a week after we had moved in - I was up to my eyeballs in boxes. So I let them go while I tidied out house. No regrets, but I did want to go.

Unfortunately, it always happens right around spring break. And we tend to be out of town. So, this year we sucked it up and went on a weeknight. Also unfortunately, when we made these plans I had no idea I would feel like hell. But I took one for the team, drugged up, and figured I may as well feel miserable at the rodeo - how can that be different than misery on my couch?

It was fun, in a different sort of way. While I am an urban woman at heart, my roots lie in small-town Nebraska. Not that I remember living there - and truth be told, I actually lived in Lincoln, which is not a small town - but I always a felt a strong connection to the small town from which my parents hail. So rodeos and the like are not new to me.

Plus, I saw Brokeback Mountain - how you could not romanticize the rodeo just a little bit after seeing that movie?

But I digress. Last night we were treated to calf roping, barrel racing, bucking broncos, steer riding, and the calf scramble. And it was ... well, entertaining, if not tons o' fun. I enjoyed people watching - the 250-pound woman in front of me, who needs to be told that pulling her thin hair back into a lank ponytail does nothing for her (though the pink bluetooth piece in her ear was a lovely accessory - and you'd hat to miss an important call). Equally fascinating was the Orthodox family, all duded up, but wearing their yarmulkes. Some people get way into rodeo attire; others (like me) just show up.

We also like the cowboy names: Bud. Spud. Cameron. Colton. Dusty. Lefty. I kid you not.

It was all so Urban Cowboy - what more can I say? Add the Mickey Gilley soundrack, and you could have just seen Bud and Sissy, right there with you.

We even scored two free tickets - could have had three more had we communicated better, but no biggie - we were prepared to pay for five.

And the highlight of the evening: the music. We chose which night to attend based on the musical offerings, and we chose John Fogerty. We knew we could not stay for the entire show, it being a weeknight and all, but we watch 10 songs or so, and we heard several of his big ones: Who Will Stop the Rain, Down on the Corner, Born on the Bayou, Have You Ever Seen the Rain, Centerfield, Midnight Special, and even a couple more that I've forgotten. He did save all the best for last.

(But I did think wow, back in the 80s when he refused to play any CCR stuff, his shows must have been a d-u-d.)

We passed on deep-fried oreos, but we had some fun. Now I feel that I have nearly done Houston - as long as I get to the Funeral Home Museum, then I will feel that I have gotten everything out of Houston that one should.

That and the beer can house. OK, and Port Arthur, birthplace of Janis Joplin. They're on the agenda, believe me. I hate to miss out on cultural opportunities when they are oh, so close ...