Cowboy Poetry and the Big "Pay Off"
(June, 2012)
I have been writing cowboy
western poetry as long as I can remember. I have invested far more money in
pursuing this pastime that I have ever earned from pursuing it. I have not
earned many ego building honors for my efforts. I have spent years producing and
servicing four web sites devoted to cowboy western poetry and enduring the
frustration and ulcers that goes with internet activity. I didn’t make a cent
from them. So, you might wonder...wasn’t that a stupid waste of time?
Indeed one of the
collateral side effects of devoting myself to writing cowboy western poetry was
the interminable condescension of most of my peers. “Oh, are you a cowboy poet
or are you a poet who writes about cowboys?” I get their drift. They don’t
particularly like poetry in general; but they particularly don’t like cowboy
poetry. Once in awhile to impress someone they will quote a line from T. S.
Eliot or some other contemporary writer they studied in a compulsory college
course. But to tell you the truth, they probably don’t like T.S. Eliot all that
much either. (I know a few....I took the same lit classes they did...and I
remember their adverse comments about Eliot. )
So
why do I sing the praises of those past hours and days and years spent writing
and reading cowboy poetry and enduring the ulcers that went along with those
four web sites?
About
a month ago, I traveled to Rochester, Minnesota, and spent a day at the Mayo
Clinic. I turned 82 in May and figured it would be a smart move, given my age,
to get a thorough physical examination by top-notch practitioners. I drove to
Rochester by myself. No problem. I drive everywhere by myself. In short, I am
very independent and determined to remain that way. I function in the same
manner as I did when I was in my 40s. The medical staff commented and marveled
at my physical and mental well-being. The nurse in particular asked in all
seriousness, what was my secret. She even thought I looked considerably less
than my age....and she really, and seriously, wanted to know why I had not suffered
the ravages of age that beset the majority of folks my age. I told her I kept
busy...that I had written three published books of cowboy western poetry; that
I spent many hours memorizing several dozen poems for purposes of recitation at
cowboy gatherings; that I was currently writing a historical novel called The
Man With The Whip-Scarred Back. She wanted to know about the book; and I
explained that it was the story of a Russian serf who came to the United States
in 1868. I told her that in preparation for this book, I read at least a dozen
books dealing with serfdom in Russia.
She
told me that she had figured out the “secret” of my physical and mental
well-being. It was the “pay-off” for all those years writing cowboy western
poetry and historical data; and the mental stimulation involved in being a
webmaster. I didn’t make much money from either endeavor...but I found a pot of
gold at the end of a rainbow. I am 82 years old and my mind is as sharp as it
was when I was in my 40s. (That may not be saying much, but you play with the
cards you’re dealt with.)
The
mind is a muscle, the same as those in your arms, legs and body. If you don’t
exercise your body, it will go to pot on you. Mine has. But I did exercise the
muscles in my brain writing all those cowboy poems and historical data , and
working on the book publications....and my mind hasn’t. That is the “big pay
off” in studying, writing and memorizing cowboy western poetry. That’s worth
more than money.
So to
all you cowboy poets out there...I say, keep on writing and studying your art.
There’s a big “Pay-Off” for doing it that money can’t buy!
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