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Slim Randles' Home Country
There are those who are a little off
but accepted in the community anyway
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[September 15, 2007]
Ol' Flint rode into town the other day, sitting tall and
straight behind the wheel of his battered old pickup. Behind him was
the horse trailer that doubles as his home, and his faithful horse
was looking out over the edge of it as they pulled up to the Mule
Barn truck stop. |
 Now Ol' Flint is not his real name. It's the cowboy name he adopted
when he moved to this country from England years ago and became what
he calls "The Last Great American Cowboy." Oh, he looks like one.
Hat, boots, mustache, everything Western. It's only when he opens
his mouth to say something that you realize he ain't really from
around here.He sounds like Eliza Doolittle's father.
But Flint is a part of the pattern of life around here and we
think he's an OK guy. His life consists largely of riding around on
his horse. He rides hundreds of miles on his horse and he lives in
the horse trailer. He was arrested once for riding his horse into
Tombstone, Ariz., because he was also packing a six-shooter.
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"Can you imagine?" he said, indignantly, "You can't carry a
six-shooter in Tombstone? Disgusting, innit? A tragedy. A Western
tragedy."
One of his favorite things during summer, when the tourists come,
is to ride down to the town square and pose like a statue of Gen.
Grant for the clicking of Instamatics. He looks the part of the
cowboy until he speaks.
"I were down there t'other day," he says, "and there were these
two women, nice and plump they was, too, and they took pictures and
they says to each other, ‘What a magnificent beast' and I smiles
back at 'em, y'know, and I says, "Thank you, misses, and my horse is
good-looking, too."
[Text from file received from Slim Randles]
Brought to you by "Sun Dog Days," at
www.slimrandles.com, soon to be a minor motion picture.
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