It started out nicely.  The announcer at the rodeo would yell out —  “Hey , anyone here from California?’  And some portion of the crowd, sometimes small , sometimes a bit bigger would hoot and holler.  I don’t know what kind of crack he made about Californians but I can guarantee you that a stereotype was involved.  He would, at each break while they were getting some poor little calf ready to be roped (read:  strangled by a rope while the crowd cheers), mention a state, listen as some portion of the audience cheered, and then he would offer us his little stereotype joke.  So for example, he got to the state of Florida pretty quickly.  The Florida attendees roared as our host reminded us about who lives there – old people… and their parents (he clearly doesn’t know about all the gay men who’ve settled in Fort Lauderdale)

It struck me that being from different states was the ONLY diversity..  We had only white people at the rodeo but at least some were from California, some from Montana and then a few old people from Florida.

Oh yeah, there was also a lot of religious diversity.  There were the people who believe in Jesus and the people who really believe in Jesus.  There were Christians from Wyoming, Christians from Montana.  Christians, Christians everywhere.

Eileen and I were fascinated.  Yes, and we had that “are we the only ones in the room?” kind of feeling.  Here we were sitting with our two kids who look like they’ve just come off the set of “Fiddler on the Roof.”  We were strangers in a strange land.  Or maybe it’s New Jersey that’s strange.

We cut out early.  Something about the evening didn’t sit right.   We were glad we went but happier to be heading back to Red Lodge.

And if you leave before the rodeo is finished,  you can beat the lines at the Dairy Queen…

I must be missing Scout badly. I feel like I see her now wherever we go. I know she is safely at her desk at The Huffington Post helping to make the world safe for liberals (no sightings of these kinds of people here in Montana). But now it’s gotten to the point where people are starting to look like her.

I took this picture to prove my point. A staged gun fight at the Irma Hotel in Cody, Wyoming. One of the harlots looks just like her.

It feels like Scout is with us wherever we go.  We thought of her often when we visited the Buffalo Bill Cody Museum yesterday.  It’s as if she was watching over us.

Who knew?  We were sure to stumble upon rodeos during the Opatut Western Expansion, but the Rodeo Capital of the WHOLE WORLD?  Too good to be true.

Many lessons learned last night at the rodeo.

1) We learned that rodeos are very patriotic.  Just like at baseball games, the evening begins with the National Anthem.  Sung while a scantily clad cowgirl rides a horse around the arena (rink?) (track?) carrying a flag.

2) We learned that the rodeo announcers have a deep and genuine commitment and concern our Armed Forces.   It is what I may remember most about the evening.  At one point, the announcers asked anyone who did or had served our country in the Armed Forces to stand.  It was actually very moving.  I wondered why we didn’t do that at baseball games.

3) Rodeos are smelly.  And after a prime rib buffet at the Irma Hotel, it can be a bit nauseating.

4) None of us cared for the idea that the ‘fun’ of one part of the event involved chasing an adorable little calf and getting a rope around its neck, knocking it down and tying its legs together.

You should have seen the look on the Jewish cowboy’s face.

5) We seemed to be the only people gasping with a 10 year old boy was injured by a bucking bronco.  He was able to walk off the (track?) (rink?) (arena?)  but he didn’t look good.

6) The town of Wabash, Indiana must have been deserted last night.   The entire population appeared to be in section 10.

7) If you leave the rodeo early, you can beat the crowds to the Dairy Queen.

The fifth member of our family, Scout, was unable to join us on this trip. She is back in NYC working. But we did not want her to feel left out nor did we want any readers to think we’d forgotten about her.

So while I cannot include any photos of Scout from this vacation, I thought I’d include a photo of Scout from a vacation.

Scout Opatut. Summer 2007. Paris.

Ben thought my post about Kit was very sweet and yet, he was reluctant to have me post this picture and talk about how great he looks.  Either I persuaded him or he just gave up trying to talk me out of it.  Not sure.  But the bottom line is that you get to appreciate this photo as much as we do.
Yesterday took us to Cody, Wyoming.   Nothing like a big ol’ dose of Dick Cheney country to remind us of what makes this country so damned great.

This here all-American family with a twist (and without a Scout) was hell bent on playing the tourist role to the hilt.  And thus, we found ourselves at the Old Time Photo store.

I’m much too old to use the word “dude” in my everyday vocabulary but today it works.

This is one handsome dude.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love New Jersey.  But the scenery is eye candy here.   I was going to count the number of times one of the four of us said “Oh, that’s beautiful” yesterday.  But I lost track.

But sometimes, the most beautiful sites are right under your nose.  For you to see and appreciate any time you want.

Here’s the girl with the perfect cowgirl name.  Kit.

Another confession.  This photo was not taken on this trip.  This is in Northampton Massachusetts on a trip we took to Vermont.  I was going to write about the fact that America does indeed run on Dunkin’ but something came up.

Now I can write you with certainty that  some parts of America do NOT run on Dunkin.’   Ben and Kit and Eileen and I have been keeping our eyes peeled for Dunkin’ Donuts but no luck.  No 7 Elevens.  No Piggly Wigglys.  We did spot a Krispy Kreme at the airport in Billings but that is as close as we’ve come.

All in all, a well deserved respite from Rachael. Ray.

Kit’s dear friend Charlotte loves candy.  Her sweet tooth is legendary.  She’s a great kid – very sweet.    And thus her love of sour things is a bit ironic.

We walked into this mammoth candy store in Red Lodge and all four of us thought immediately about Charlotte Von Hoffman.

See those baskets Charlotte?  All filled with candy.  Candy, candy everywhere.  Bins filled with sour things, Buckets filled with sour things.

Not to worry.  I have every confidence that your souvenir will come from one of these buckets or bins.

I went with candy shaped like bears.   Wasn’t hard to find.  Everything here either is a bear or is shaped like one.

I sent this picture to my sister-in-law Peggy and she wrote back “I have no response to this.  I can’t even imagine Eileen Opatut at a pig race.”   All I can say is that she did not hoot and holler during the race (that would be me) but she was hardly dragged there  reluctantly.

I may be talking about these pig races for some time – not just because I had a 100% return on investment on my bet.  It was just the whole experience.

This is not a shot of my pig crossing the finish line.   I could lie and say it was and none of you would be the wiser.  But the truth is that each race lasts about  22 seconds and my pig won in a dramatic come from behind victory.   And with all the hooting and hollering (that I was doing) there just simply wasn’t time.