A Good Way to Grow
My friend Jimmy chose saddle broncs
As his way to play.
But I met him a carpenterin’.
It was our job by day.
Though he banged nails to earn his keep
(We all do what we can)
Make no mistake about his love
He was a rodeo man.
He wore his boots with ridin' heels
Whether on saddle or tin roof.
He had that softly speaking way
Non-cowboys only spoof.
Two summers we built pole barns
for hay, cattle or sheep.
And some for workin’ farmers
Their equipment in to keep.
Round Valley weren’t near home.
We both lived far away.
So we up an’ shared the ride.
Doing so saved our pay.
Each day we’d split a six pack
When we our pay we’d draw.
Gave us both some come down time
and loosened us to jaw.
I fancied his calm demeanor,
His quiet, capable style.
Nothing got his back up.
I never saw him riled.
Learnin’ can be a subtle thing,
Often don’t know it til after.
Lessons taught to ‘n from work
Or heard whilst settin’ a rafter.
Now Jimmy wasn't teachin'.
Least not so with intention.
But if you'd sense to listen close
You'd pick up some retention.
One particlar’ drive I 'member
Back from Covelo one day.
I asked the man about his wife
To hear what he would say.
"Ol Peg, well she's a good ol gal,
She always irons my Wranglers."
"That's all", I thought, “no loving word,
Nor whinin’ of their ‘tanglers”?
Right then it struck me curious,
No praising bride summation.
But o'er the years I've come to value
His words and education.
For I believe 'Ol Jimmy meant
To tell me true and make
Me realize Peggy was complete.
Creased jeans were icing on the cake.
He's just one more cowboy
That I've been blessed to know.
But swapping time with all of them
Has been a real good way to grow.