There is just something about a man in an Akubra Hat, a pair of cowboy boots and tight jeans that does something for me. I just can’t help it. Ever since I discovered Dan Brodie and the Broken Arrows, I’ve just had this love of all things “cowboy”. And so you can imagine how excited I was while on the big adventure with Mr W. when I saw my first Ringer. Hell yeah.
Now you may think I’m being disrespectful to poor old Mr W., however he knows that I know where my bread is buttered. Plus, despite the fact that he has been known to wear an Akubra Hat, he has said a flat out no to pulling on the tight jeans and cowboy boots. Party pooper. So I have to fulfill my cowboy fantasies somewhere else.
Actually I think my obssession with cowboys makes him laugh more than anything. He just doesn’t get it. Take for example our helicopter pilot at El Questro station. I happened to lay eyes on him at the bar … tight jeans, check … Akubra Hat , check … boots, check … rollies in the top pocket, check. Not only was he a Ringer, he was also a copter pilot. Mr W. thought it was hillarious that I was drooling over a man who had a monobrow. My response? Wax.
Now that you know about my cowboy obssession, you can also understand the excitement at buying my first Akubra hat. It literally didn’t leave my head. I had to buy the one called the “Rough Rider” … it fulfilled all my cowboy/cowgirl fantasies. Mr W. just rolled his eyes as he watched me wonder around wearing an Akubra and thinking I was some cowgirl coming straight off a muster. A girl can dream can’t she?
I actually think he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him when I asked the lady at the “rural clothing” store how I could clean my Akubra. She looked at me blankly … “why do you want to clean it?”. I looked at her as if she had just asked me why I wear stilettos! Apparently, you don’t clean Akubras. Just another lesson I can chalk up to experience. And so my cream Akubra will remain stained with red dust … a momento of the cattle musters in my mind.
Now all I have to do is get Mr W. to understand my love of country music (again, it’s mainly the cowboy thing) and we might actually get somewhere.