I was in fact admiring some cows in the livestock barn at the Gillespie County Fair when it happened.
A cowboy wearing boots, jeans, hat, and a purple western-style shirt walked up to me, stopped in his tracks, drawled, “How dee do,” followed it up with an appreciative “mmmMMM,” and then sauntered over to a far corner.
I wasn’t even wearing my cowgirl boots or a tube top, and he wasn’t even old. Maybe they were his cows? Maybe he’d just come from spending several hours at the beer tent?
I could not skedaddle my fanny over to my husband and our friends fast enough to tell them about it, and it of course became a running joke throughout the evening. “Honey, will you go get more food tickets? Oh, never mind. I’ll just go find my cowboy, and he’ll get me whatever I want,” and “Hey, Emily. Maybe your cowboy could win you one of those giant stuffed teddy bears!”
I am on the near side of 50. I’ve let my hair go gray. I’ve had babies and breast cancer. And I will take the pick-up line and all the jokes that follow. Yee to the frickin’ haw!
Anyway, this was no State Fair of Texas or San Antonio Stock Show & Rodeo, with hours and acres worth of exhibits, entertainment, vendors, and fried things, but at 128, it is the oldest continuous county fair in Texas, and it’s got a lot of heart. Plus, for $7 admission, you cannot beat the people-watching value. Reminded me of my own hometown county fair, in little old Allegany County, MD.