Let the Bulls Fly!
It all began with our Texas trip…I had made up my mind to invest time with my sons rather than just pile up toys and most other superficial things. Toys and whatnot are fun. They’re not an issue, but they are a grossly insufficient substitute for character and deliberately lifting their lives higher than my own. As you’ve probably guessed already, this write-up is from another one of those times. And let me tell you…It was a rollercoaster long before the day came…
With all of the things going on in life these days, I’ve been thinking a lot about identity both in conveying its importance, but also in the mirror. It’s truly important to apply the same principles to oneself as well. Over time it is easy to get buried, lost or blurred in the events, struggles and activities of life to such a degree that we default to one form of autopilot or another. This fade, ultimately, attacks/degrades our identity so much that even our personal interests can become indistinguishable. This fading was certainly going on in my life and had been for many years. Hindsight is almost always 20/20. I had largely gotten lost in the circumstances of life.
Why do I bring this up? Good question. One thing that I had nearly forgotten in a deep way is my life raising livestock in the county. This included things like driving trucks, wearing Wrangler jeans with boots, staying outside most of the day and doing all of the things that come with that life. It’s not an easy one, but I had it better than most. It wasn’t our family’s way of life and so didn’t warrant the stresses related to that. It was a 4-H project. An elaborate 4-H project. It was high time that I began introducing that life to my eldest son.
His tenth birthday was coming up and I decided to make a big deal out of this one. If nothing else, all the planning and design helped me bypass the shock, sorrow, excitement, pain, happiness, etc. that comes when your son turns…TEN.
We are going to the PBR…
And we were going dressed proper. I envisioned my son and I dress in button down shirts, black jeans and western boots. I have all of these things still. He did not…We’ll get into the clothing conundrum later, but for now…How was I going to introduce this to him? My planning started in late July. I decided to show him a few clips of riders from Youtube to see if he would be even remotely interested.
The event wasn’t until mid-September so I still had time to get the clothes straightened out and to make a little teaser when his actual birthday rolled around since I obviously couldn’t give it to him right then.
Here’s what I was able to come up with…
I’m an IT guy…Go figure. Two things can be true. I played it for him when my nephew was over at the house too since he was be joining us along with his Dad. They were super excited, but it did take a little bit of explaining and the trailer did flash by very quick. Then they really got excited. This was a major first for all of us, myself included. I’d seen more traditional rodeos before, but I had never been to a PBR event. None of us had. Good times ahead!!
Clothes…Oy.
I hate clothes shopping with a burning passion only exceeded by the Sun. Ugh. The first attempt at boots failed in that I ended up with a Size 6…for toddlers. It’s almost like the website should make a distinction. Finally got that sorted out. The shirt was an easy fit as was the belt.
Lo and behold, Noah is my son. And as my son, he inherited certain traits like my odd clothing style requirements. None of the boys Wranglers would fit him. My son isn’t fat, but he is a very thick kid with a long torso. Western clothing isn’t made for that style very often. We finally found something workable, but the jeans still needed to be shortened by no less than six inches. My parents had a hard time fitting for me too. With all of those hurdles out of the way, the countdown began.
The week of the event there appeared several large holes in the road and we hit them dead center. My son ended up getting into some pretty serious trouble at school. Oy…This is that moment as a parent that you have to proceed very carefully with the most minimal of knee jerking. We talked about the issue, the consequences and what is expected of him. I also began adding some more regularly scheduled chores, responsibilities and time together doing more than playing. He’s at the very starting point of ramping up into manhood and escorting him through that transition is more critical than it may have ever been.
I wrestled and even explained to him, in a minimal way, my dilemma: How do I allow you to go on this cool trip when you just got in big trouble? Do I allow you to go or do you lose out because of your choices? I made it clear to him that I wasn’t sure and that his behavior the rest of the week would greatly determine the outcome. I also made it clear that it’s not just him that might lose out…I would, his cousin would among others. We would lose out on that special time with him and his choices do impact other lives.
We managed to make it through the week without too much more happening, thankfully. He was sentenced, as it were, to manual labor for the whole morning and part of the afternoon on the day of the event. It worked out pretty well. He worked hard and didn’t even complain that much. There were several points where he even enjoyed himself.
The time finally arrived. It was time to get dressed and out the door to our first stop of an early dinner – Texas Roadhouse with the whole crew. I got a few pictures of Noah before we left the house and then again after we finished dinner. He’s grown up so fast…I get choked up just thinking about it now.
The event was AMAZING! We had really good seats and only a modest amount of drama finding them. Thankfully there were only two or three bullrider injuries that had any weight to them. I didn’t capture those, but I did get a few below as a teaser for why you should go:
I wanted to get a reaction shot. I didn’t think I’d be able to at first, but…
It was an amazing night. Apparently my nephew, who was sitting at the far end of our row, really enjoyed it too as did we all. I don’t know how often we’ll go back to see more. It was nice to have it at the Stockton Arena which cut down on the commute. Only time will tell…
Happy Birthday to my favorite Noah!
Dad always loves you and that remains true even when you get in trouble too. This song came to mind many times that week while I wrestled and I vividly remembered times when I’ve been on the receiving end of a conversation or two like the one I had with him both vertically and horizontally.