Wannabe Quandry #112: O the Drama of it all....chosing my first....Sara Hagel mecate. So....which color combo...do I choose? Should I match it...to my horse? My hair? Or my eyes? My Ford 4x4 pickup? My chinky armitas? My batmitas? My chinkwings? My Limoges china set?
Wannabe hallmarks: Must...be color coordinated.....with their horse. Occasionally, even such a revered hand as Jim "White Cub" Hosse...has been known...to lapse...into the fashion statement....however he stops short...of the dreaded red shirt....under red suspenders...the biggest fashion faux pas of all Wannabes.....here...we see him decked out in a red wild rag....with matching mecate...of course.....on the right: required playing material...for all Wannabe Buckaroos....note: any similarity between Hosse's wild rag and the board game buckaroos' is just...a coincidence...
Below: Forget the traffic at the La Cienega exit off the 405: here, a Wannabe Sigalert in effect at the annual Colorado Sombrero horse drive, pen raised, arena bound gunsel fest and preening contest:
Uh oh....a wannabe ranch: http://www.uhohranch.com/ ....complete with highly trained, grass fed and softened sheep....that respond to leg cues and taste a lot like brie...uh oh...we meant Brio....it is widely rumored..that the highly trained and priced sheep used for Mobile Mona's...come from this ranch....however....the sheep....strongly deny this. Below: The Official Wannabe Anthem. Yippee yippee yi yippee yo yo yo......
THE WANNABE TYPE.
The title says it all. This is the guy or gal – new to Buckarooing off a hog farm in Iowa, the corner of Hollywood and Vine or a miniature pony ranch in Baton Rouge – who's read too many Ray Hunt books or been clinicked half to death by Buck Brananman and Pat Parelli...and can’t decide if he/she wants to be a combo of a Canadian half-breed and a Mexican logger who just discovered Tip’s Western Wear in Winnemucca, or a horseback Lupe Velez crossed with Dale Evans doing a poor impersonation of Ingrid Bergman in For Whom the Bell Tolls.
You'll see them in the stands at The Californios and schlepping around Elko at the Poetry Gathering hanging on to every word Waddie Mitchell, Pete Campbell and Buck Banana Bread say as if it were the gospel truth in their Buckroo Knotted wild rags, Amish lids, and conspicuously shiney new Olathe boots. They've probably been the subject of a painting by Moni Heil, or have posed for a RANGE calendar. They stand out like sore thumbs. Their eyes have yet to aquire that hardened, half drooped, half bedroom-looking bloodshot appearance so true to any real, hardscrabble drinking, whorehousing, roping nut, bonafide buckaroo.
Pre Peter Campbell clinic:
...and after:
Yes you sorry pen raised leppyfied gunsel....YOU TOO...for a price....can easily become....a BUCKAROO! LIVE THE DREAM! SEE GODFORSAKEN COUNTRY! GASP in AWE...as you learn to gather spoiled bovines! MARVEL! At the site of prolapsed cows and spoiled bags! CODDLE little brainer leppy calves! SING around carbon emitting camp fires! Enjoy rollicking good times as you RODEAR and ROUND UP DOGGIES! BRAND with gay and carefree abandon - especially when you have no idea who they really belong to! Yip, yodel and yahoo! Learn how to tie the mysterious BUCKAROO KNOT on your 60" WILD RAG....
The mysterious BUCKAROO KNOT....."Real" cowgirls. Uh, sure, David.....
The weekend warrior arena Wannabes can be spotted easily...those squared off bottoms...with the double twisted fringe and half of the Mint inlaid over hair-on Yak chinks. Well for starters, you can usually tag them when they order and drink Merlot. Damn near everything they own...is conspicuously....clean. The mulehide....is lacking something there....uh....is it ropeburn, they call it? Their boots are straight out of the box, and they have this annoying habit of constantly adjusting their hats, worrying if their stampede string is as wolfy as Ricky Morris' were in Vanishing Breed. They just have that 'look'. Like...they are trying....too hard. The hands...perfectly manicured. The lipstick....just right. The jewelry....just so. Pressed and creased Wranglers. Sara Hagel mecates and JWP eggbutt snaffles - must haves. They've probably never heard of Fritz Marek, let alone heard him talk in that famous stuttering nasal voice of his; and Bill Kane? HUH? Who was he? Wasn't there a movie about him by Orsen Welles? They probably think Bill Maupin is a local dentist and Merv Takas hosts a local radio talk show and Tom Marvel is some comic book magnate - a dead giveaway that they are Wannabes. They typically have a back cinch, a Cheyenne roll, shotgun chaps, a pocket knife in an exact replica of Buck Banana Breads', and lots and lots and lots of every expensive gear. Oh we're talking price is no object here. If its the priciest, they probably have it in three's. Why trade for gear....when there's Amex?
These are the guys and gals....who showed up out of nowhere, sometime in the mid to late 1990's, and starting aping "The Look". You know what we mean. The ones you NEVER saw drunk in the Commercial and can't recall ever seeing them working on a wagon.....or working...period.
If they look blank eyed when you mention the names Jerry Souza, Jim Koepke, Spider Teller, Bret Black, Herb French, Kent Craven, Harley Kelly, Len Babb, Tom Wroten, Glen Shelley, Rich Madariaorga, Keith Baltzor, Merle Teller, Robert Fretwell, Nate Smart, Britt Lay, Mike Thomas or Wade Cooper, run for the hills. If they laugh when you refer to the back bar in the Commercial, watch out. If they balk at shooting roman candles off at passing cops in the Carlin Tunnels, you know. Yes. You ARE in the presence of a Wannabe.
Dismissingly regarded when they show up on any rawhide outif with their newly flattened hats, they find out quickly - especially if they are in the employ of some hardscrabble ass like Bill Kane or Willis Packer - that they DON'T accept....American Express.....
When a young – or in some instances, not so young - buckaroo wannabe drives up to the T Lazy S or the Span or the YP or Dean Tobias' place in a red Toyota Prius with Minnesota, Alaska or Georgia plates, brace yourself. You can bet you are about to see, in the flesh, one of these types. Note as he/she steps out of their car - if she has a manicure and red nail polish, forget it, she's hopeless. Note carefully now, the shiny new black 19” topped lace up White’s Packers with Wranglers tucked inside them. Well, there goes half a morning just lacing those puppies up. If your grizzled cranky closet alcoholic cowboss is one of those time management types sworn to present numbers and profits to some mining company big wig owners back in Newark, then beware the newly hired man who wears these tall time consuming brogans. If you are lucky, he’s a multi-tasker with a meth addiction and can possibly peel potatoes and change the cowboss’ newborn baby’s diapers with one hand while lacing up both boots with the other.
Then comes the rig. A full double rigged – Eegads! The mother of all sins - modified Association tree - instant strike two - and yet he or she has managed to wedge bucking rolls on it and wrap the 1 ½” diameter horn in his mother’s old nylon pantyhose; and there’s a rabbit’s foot and a little copper bell hanging off the cinch, so give him a half a point for trying.
The hat is usually the clincher. Right out of the box, black with a flat brim at least, and open crown. He looks like a fricking Mormon crossed with the Quaker Oats guy. Move over, Richard Caldwell: you've been usurped. He or she dares not crease it; God forbid it be the wrong crease; they are not sure what is haute vaquero yet. Do we leave it open? Do we try the TJ Symonds Montana Peak? The Vaquero telescope? The Gus? Do we opt for The Open Road Clark and Brian Morris Look? The silverbelly Amish snap brim ala Cody Howe? If it's a Mindy Bower-ette you're stuck with, maybe she's been pablum fed wooly buckaroo-ness out of Range Magazine or Eclectic Horseman and is aping for the Toni Schutte, Ashley Riggs or Two Rein Jane Look - as if! So indoctrinate him/her to the Telescope crease or just punch it in someplace for him, and meanwhile, be nice and find some tail hair on a nag to replace that rabbit’s foot. Remember - overcompensation is a fact of life; the longer the shufly, the shorter the....the.....you know.
The Wannabe has seen all those forked pictures in all those books and magazines...you know...the ones with Ricky Morris and Tim McGinnis in suspenders – so his are bright red – but they are lost on his equally bright red shirt. Fashion faux pas!Never red on red! The coolheaded, fashion-savvy jigger boss in the know will get Anacabe’s on the phone immediately and see if they have his shirt size in white – several, please, and will you box and tissue wrap them for us as we’ll be in shortly to pick them up? Yes, yes….just put it on the ranch account…. While you are at it, haul his ass into Elko and have the barber give him a Schutte buzz cut – that is, a head nearly shaved ala Larry Schutte, for that instant ‘rawhide outfit/mustanger mystique look’.
The One Stop Shopping Mecca for Buckaroos: Anacabe's. Should be mandatory stop for all aspiring Wannabe schleps. Joe Anacabe's old place...within convenient staggering distance...from the Commercial and the Stray Dog. 40" inseam Levis', open crowned Stetsons and Open Roads, boots, socks, jackets, gloves, caps, wild rags, palm leaf straws. And yes, suspenders. Red ones, even. Everything a buckaroo needs, except condoms...which can be purchased further down the street....at the drug store....don't forget to leave the wrappers at the feet of White King in homage to his Greatness....
A stop into Cap's www.capriolas.com should also be on the menu to get him/her decked out in a more appropriate rig that won't scare off his/her circle horses. or get him labeled a Texan. Once inside if your wannabe makes a bee-line towards the silver spade bits and 17" long shuflies, or armitas with 20" fringe.....seriously consider that you may have a future Californio in the making....and refer to the chapter on that type in this guide for what to expect then....
Then seriously consider a tall cool one with fellow members of The Cult of White King.....
The mysterious BUCKAROO KNOT..... 
"Real" cowgirls. Uh, sure, David.....
The One Stop Shopping Mecca for Buckaroos: Anacabe's. Should be mandatory stop for all aspiring Wannabe schleps. Joe Anacabe's old place...within convenient staggering distance...from the Commercial and the Stray Dog. 40" inseam Levis', open crowned Stetsons and Open Roads, boots, socks, jackets, gloves, caps, wild rags, palm leaf straws. And yes, suspenders. Red ones, even. Everything a buckaroo needs, except condoms...which can be purchased further down the street....at the drug store....don't forget to leave the wrappers at the feet of White King in homage to his Greatness.... 