It was a busy couple of days. We had trips to the doctor's over a certain young man's broken arm. We had to touch up the paint on a horse's butt. We had airport and errand runs to make. And then we had to go to the rodeo.
I had never been to the rodeo before - does that come as a surprise? And I enjoyed it a great deal, even though I didn't understand how certain events were scored. It was fun, not completely surprisingly, to watch guys on horses and bulls getting thrown off.
I decided while I was at the rodeo that if I am ever a candidate for public office, I will campaign at the rodeo. This place was full of people who love thier country and don't really care what anyone in Hollywood or Washington or Torra Borra thinks about that. They were unabashadly patriotic, and it was moving for me.
Most moving was a segment at the beginning of the rodeo about the American Soldier. The horse-riding MC intoned with great passion and a touch of melodrama about the bravery and sacrifice of our men and women in uniform, encouraging us to clap and cheer for them, which this crowd of obvious Republicans did.
And then, without introduction, a soldier began walking with slow and deliberate paces the length of the rodeo. The crowd erupted with a kind of sustained applause that seemed to sweep everyone away. When he reached his mark at the other end up the stadium, he was met by his grandsons running to hug him, and then his family, and finally his son, also in uniform. They saluted each other and hugged. I choked back a tear. I didn't expect to cry at the rodeo.