One More Ride

This poem was like one of those unpredictable bulls I see when I watch the PBR. They start in one direction and all of a sudden make a quick lunge, a belly roll and you're looking at the sky. I had the first line in the back of my mind for over a year. I kept looking at it, trying to shoe-horn it into one direction. Then, all of a sudden, another image came charging out of the gate. Several years ago, I used part of this poem to promote a marathon of rodeo-related movies on Encore Westerns. Later, I added the Post Script. Hope you enjoy it.

One More Ride
He can throw a rope in a figure eight
but he just can’t seem to stand up straight.
What isn’t broke, is bruised or hurt
from spendin’ time down in the dirt
while Brahma’s do their victory dance
all up his spine and down his pants.
But he tapes his broken bones real tight
so he can ride tomorrow tonight
cause you know way down deep inside,
all he wants is one more ride.

He’s a rodeoin’ cowboy.
He’s an old bull ridin’ fool.
And it’s taught him lots of lessons
that he never learned in school.
Like bein’ tough and bein’ true.
Get up when you’re knocked down.
And the inner strength to cowboy up
when no one is around.

Each weekend he is on the go
hittin’ every rodeo.
He hides his pain with jokes and smiles
and after several hundred miles
he parks his truck and pays his fee
and wonders who his draw will be.
He drinks draft beer and cheap mescal
and shoots the bull with all his pals.
And each one, way down deep inside
is hopin’ they get one more ride.
In the morning he drinks coffee black,
pulls out his gear and checks his tack.
Ace bandages wrap round his joints
and with some Bengay he anoints
each aching bone and muscle strain
as he prepares for yet more pain.

Cause, he’s a rodeoin’ cowboy.
He’s an old bull ridin’ fool.
Some say he ornery as a goat
and stubborn as a mule.
But he’s a rodeoin’ cowboy
and way down deep inside
he thinks and dreams of nothing else
but winning one more ride.

At home, his darlin’ minds the place.
There’s chores to do and kids to chase.
She works real hard the fear to hide
when she knows it’s time for his next ride.
That evenin’, staring at the phone
she wonders if he’s comin’ home.
Tears well up cause she worries so
but she would never let him know.
As a cowboy’s wife you learn to hide
the fear that comes with one more ride.

Cause he’s a rodeoin’ cowboy
born for broncs and bulls and blood
and she knows he won’t be happy
lest he’s playin' in the mud.
Yeah, he’s a rodeoin' cowboy
and she’s there by his side
and will be when the strings run out
and he’s had his one last ride.

Jeff Hildebrandt copyright 2005

(Post Script)
On Sunday’s he’s in Cowboy Church
cause that’s the cowboy way.
He knows that Jesus gives him strength
to face each unknown day.
He knows what ever happens
the Lord is by his side
so he saddles up with confidence
when it’s time for his next ride.

The Quest

A friend, Marta Lane, posted this reminder on her blog (Follow My Dream.blogspot.com): Albert Einstein said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results. He was a very wise man who makes very tasty bagels....What? Oh, sorry, not the same Einstein. Well, Marta's blog is about the dream she and her husband, Dan, had to simplify their lives and move to Hawaii. She is a great writer and I really enjoy her stories. This poem is about being active, not passive, when it comes to things that must be done.

The Quest
I can see a horse at sunset
with a cowboy riding west.
See him wave to those he’s leaving
as he takes off on his quest
to find what he’s been missing;
to cure what gnaws inside
that’s kept him so dern restless
and so unsatisfied.
He’s tired of Technicolor
and just wants black and white
where truth cannot be shaded;
things are either wrong or right.
I imagine I’m that cowboy;
that I have the guts to go
and live outside my comfort zone
in a way that truly shows
that I believe God loves me.
And if I let Him lead,
my needs will all be satisfied
and I’ll be blessed indeed.
I’m tired of straddling fences.
It’s time I took a stand
and lived life telling others
of the glory that God’s planned.
I’m tired of worldly worship
that panders to the lost.
The Bible says God’s drawn a line
that none of us should cross.
There is glory when “The Son” shines
as we’re riding for God’s brand
with love and understanding
and a pair of helping hands.
Eternal life for everyone
should be our quest, of course.
So, remember why you’re riding;
God can’t lead a stabled horse.

Jeff Hildebrandt © 2008

Satisfaction

I believe that giving to the church is an essential part of worship. Among other things, it is your way of show your creator that you have faith in the promise to always be with you. Now, you can take this Bible passage as encouraging you to give just a little or realize she gave all she had because she trusted God to take care of her.

"Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a fraction of a penny. Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, "I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on." Mark 12: 41-44

SATISFACTION

Old Ben Dollar and Pete Purdue
were sitting in a middle pew
and it appeared that Ben was nervous
all throughout the entire service.
When it’s over, Pete said “What’s up pard”?
And Ben said, “I was thinkin’ hard”.
Pete stood there, said “go ahead”
Ben sucked in air and then he said,
Sunday sermons 'bout this and that...
sing some songs and pass the hat...
pray a prayer, say Amen,
come back next week and do it again.
We're Satisfied !
But, while the preacher's sermonizing,
I find that I am fantasizing
about how great it would be,
if I could win the lottery.
And while they pray about somethin' or other,
healin’ the sick or helping a brother,
I’m tellin’ God, the good I'd do
if He'd just make my wish come true.
He'd be Satisfied !
Why, I'd take that million and right away,
I'd give ten per cent away.
Course, He understands that the fact is,
the ten per cent comes after taxes...
Gotta keep the government Satisfied!
And about the other ninety per cent?
Well, to make sure how my gift is spent
I'd quit my job and roam around
to find out where the poor are found.
And just so I'll be free to roam,
I'll buy a little motor home,
a 4 -wheel drive and fishing boat
(to get to where it's real remote).
And that is why I hesitate
when they pass the offering plate.
If I could win, I'd do much more
than give this dollar to the poor.
Since I know God wants me to win,
I'll save this buck and try again.
Cause, after all, it's understood,
a winner can do so much good.
Everyone’s Satisfied.
“Not everyone”, said Pete to Ben.
“You need to think this thru again.
Your motivation has the feel of
come on God, let’s make a deal.
No matter how we rationalize,
God knows our hearts. So realize
God’s made it clear what we’re to do.
Mark 12 is meant for me and you
to learn from Jesus that what counts
is faithfulness, not large amounts.
That way, God’s Satisfied.

Jeff Hildebrandt © 2009

The Full Waddie

This is just for fun. Something light to help you get thru the week. Remember the movie, The Full Monty? Sure you do. Remember the song at the end that they danced to, "Leave your hat on"? Tom Jones version? Sure you do. Well, I toyed with that for a while and this is what I came up with. Oh, before you read it, you can put your hat on.....

THE FULL WADDIE

That Cowboy took off his coat,
and he set down his tote.
Then he took off his spurs,
set his boots next to hers.
She said “Now, take off your vest,
while I take off my dress
but, baby, leave your hat on”.

Then she told him perhaps,
he should remove those chaps.
Next to go is the shirt,
its just covered with dirt
and those jeans have to go,
“Take your time dear, go slow.”
She’s got him down to his briefs.
She said, “Wow, that’s a relief.
Darlin’ what I propose
is that you go wash those clothes.
But you can leave your hat on.”

Jeff Hildebrandt copyright 2005

Born to this Land

I remember flying to LA listening to one of those music entertainment programs. This one was with a song writer talking about co-writing the Garth Brooks' hit, The River. As I recall, she mentioned that the meter and phrasing was borrowed from something she had heard. She just changed the lyrics. Well, I figured, if you're going to "borrow" you should borrow from the best, so I did. I took their poetic structure and added my own images. Not long ago, cowboypoetry.com posted a painting titled, "Born to this Land" and invited writers to come up with poems about it. This poem seemed to fit.

BORN TO THIS LAND

You know a cowboy is a dreamer
as he rides the shrinking range.
And he dreams of independence
he may never see again.
Trying to learn from what has happened
to avoid what lies ahead
as he works to keep the home place
and make sure his family’s fed.
And he will ride his pony
through the pastures and the streams
cause he says it makes a difference
and it keeps alive his dreams.
He sees God on the hillsides,
in the colors of the leaves
and it makes him truly thankful
for the blessings he’s received.
Too many folks have been defeated;
let their ranch land slip away
‘til the future they imagined
is cut down like the hay.
But he will fight against temptation
and with God on his side
he’ll sit tight in his saddle
and just enjoy the ride.
Cause he was born to cowboy,
He was born onto this land.
He’s a trustee of its heritage
and it’s here he’ll take his stand.
So, he will ride his pony
through the pastures and the streams
cause he says it makes a difference
and it keeps alive our dreams.

Jeff Hildebrandt copyright 2010

Robert Fuller

Robert Fuller and his wife, Jennifer, join me for a picture at the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum Wrangler Awards. I was asked to introduce him at a couple of the Q&A sessions prior to the awards banquet and I came up with the poem below. He was inducted into their Performer's Hall of Fame and I was given an award for a retrospecitve I did on John Wayne for Encore Westerns. If you want to know the truth, I'm only sharing this poem because I have a nice picture with these two wonderul actors.

Robert Fuller

He grew up down, round a Florida Key
and everyone knew him as Buddy Lee.
He headed West; they changed his name
and after Korea, he found real fame.
He had a bit part in Calamity Jane
and starred on Laramie and Wagon Train.
He did guest shots on Rin Tin Tin,
The Monroes and the Virginian,
Big Valley, Hec Ramsey, Bonanza, Kung Fu
Return of the Seven and Maverick, too.

To Cowboy fans, he’s sure no stranger.
He was even on Walker…Texas Ranger.
For trivia buffs, that series was nice
cause he got killed on the same show…twice
And I must admit, he won us all
playing doctor with TV nurse, Dixie McCall.
You know, that’s a role at first he turned down
but a talk with Jack Webb soon brought him around
He was on JAG and on The Love Boat,
Mike Hammer, Matt Houston and Murder She Wrote

He’s a brand new addition to this here Hall of Fame
for Great Western Performers. Robert Fuller’s his name.

Jeff Hildebrandt © April 12, 2008

The L.R.U.

This is one of those poems that just sort of showed up. I knew where I wanted to get but I wasn't sure what the journey would look like. So, I started writing and the path became clearer.
I think that's the case with a lot of what we do. If we wait for all the stars to allign, the lights to all turn green and everybody else to shake their head "yes" we'll never get anything done. Remember, God can't lead a stabled horse, He can't steer a parked car or sail a docked boat. But once we're moving, God can direct our path. We have to step out in Faith.
The L. R. U.

Jim rode up through what looked like snow
but the air weren’t near that cold.
and he thought, “This must be Kansas,
there are no hills to behold.”
Up yonder, there’s a rider
who waived him, come ahead.
And when Jim rode up close enough
the other cowboy said,
“Welcome to the home place,
I’m the foreman; name is Pete.
If you’re looking for some steady work
or just a bite to eat
you’re welcome here. But tell me pard,
what brought you out this far?”
Jim looked around and then asked Pete
to tell him where they are.
“It’s called the LRU,” Pete said.
“I’d love to stay,” said Jim.
“The owner’s always near,” Pete smiled,
“Why don’t you talk to him.”
Then said, “Your tack is mighty worn.
Your clothes are tattered too.
You must-a-had it pretty rough.
I’ll tell you what I’ll do.
I’ll just exchange those filthy rags
for a new outfit to wear
and trade your tack and saddle in.
That is, if you don’t care.”
Jim said, “I sure will pay ya
for the duds and all the tack.”
Pete said, “It’s all been paid for
by the owner sometime back.
But there are things that you can do.
When you see need, lend a hand.
And tell folks that you do it
‘cause you’re riding for our brand.
Remind ‘em that they’re welcome here.
We’re open night and day.
Then point them to the narrow path
that brings them on this way.”

We thought the horse wreck killed old Jim.
He sure looked all done in.
Then both eyes opened and he started
describing where he’d been.
“The prairie’s thick with sweet grass
and you never hear a car.
And anywhere you have to ride’s
not far from where you are.
The cattle all go easy
and everywhere you look
everyone is smiling
and the food is proper cooked.”

One fella said Jim smacked his head
much harder than he thought
then they all wandered back to work.
But some of us did not.
Jim said, “They think I’m crazy
but I’ve seen what’s ahead.
I’m giving up my rowdy rides
for the narrow path instead.
And you too have a choice to make,
don’t live your life by chance.
There’s glory at the LRU;
God’s own “Last Round-Up Ranch.”

Jeff Hildebrandt © 12/1/09