So I'm from Los Angeles, and so that's probably why my parents failed to take me to a rodeo when I was young. But lucky me, I went last night! I went to the Strawberry Days Rodeo in Pleasant Grove, which is two cities away. (It goes: Orem, then Lindon is slightly more North, and then Pleasant Grove more North after that)
I went with my friend, Layne. It lasted almost three hours, filled with crazy people trying to ride animals fed crack. Well I'm not sure how this process works, so you might have to enlighten me on the subject via the comment box which none of my readers remember how to use. So, why is it that these "wild" horses and bulls know exactly where to go? hmmmm. After they are done throwing someone off, they walk casually and collectively from whereever they are, to go back to their stable. This is why I'm sure, people give these animals a sort of crack that lasts exactly 10 seconds.
Other than watching trained animals and not wild animals on crack, I watched women do barrel races on pretty horses, and I watched men wrestle teenager bulls and even this guy called the one armed bandit from Oklahoma did a few tricks for us. I like the rodeo clown because there was a lot of downtime, and he enlightened us with jokes. Here's one:
(Insert southern accent here, with two scoops of extra twang):
"So mah wife, was givin' me a hard time about takin' her sum places real nice. She told me, "you gonna take me sumwhere real expensive for our anny-ver-sery!" So ya know where I took her? I took her to the gas station!"
I thought that rather clever. Really, the gas station is the reason why we're all broke, and if we're not really broke, it helps us feel like we are broke, so it helps everyone experience the same sensation.
10 dollars later, and a sore butt here I am. All of a sudden, I like 'em.