Now I imagine the title being read with enthusiasm and the "Bullnanza" part accompanied by Jazz Hands. If you don't know what Jazz hands are I suggest you Google that because I bet the urban dictionary definition will be funny.
Recently Jamey was assigned to work one weekend in Guthrie Oklahoma at a little event called "Bullnanza". For all of you rodeo freaks out there, I'm sure you know what Bullnanza is and probably have even had some dirt kicked on you from an enraged bull, so you can appreciate the story I am about to tell. We arrived in Oklahoma on a Friday night after a 6 hour drive from Little Rock. I accompanied Jamey with the intention of helping him with a portion of the Rough Guides research that was to be done in Eureka Springs Arkansas, hands down, the coolest town in Arkansas. Sorry Little Rock people. We were going to stop in Eureka on the way home from OK. Until then we were hangin with some cowboys in Guthrie.
On Saturday, I decided I couldn't miss out on this cultural phenomenon of bull riding in the heart of the USA. I wanted to experience the cowboy culture surrounded by people who's passion for bull riding could be likened to the European passion for cricket or the other American passion of drinking bud light at a Nascar race.
The competition wasnt an actual rodeo. It was an event called "Bullnanza" which I guess is more of an exhibition of the best bull riders in the country. The Bullnanza competition was judged and the whole holding on for dear life for 8 seconds did apply. The bulls were angry and aggressive and ready to kill. The cowboys were more than willing to jump on them in a cage and then ride them into the arena, get thrown off and sometimes pelted so hard in the spine that they are unable to coordinate their thoughts or motor skills for a good five minutes. And then you win $50,000.00. How this is different from a real rodeo, I have yet to figure out. Nevertheless, it was Bullnanza and I was a part of this grand tradition in Guthrie Oklahoma.
Jamey brought up at one point that we were watching a gladiator sport. Spectators waiting for the thrill of blood, the adrenaline rush from the infinite possibilities of injuries and perhaps seeing your hero reduced to a comatose vegetable or end the night with a bull horn through the windpipe. What a thrill. I was amazed, despite the mixed feelings of disgust and joy, that I was actually beginning to learn the riders names and differentiate the mean bulls and the not as mean bulls.
The beginning of the show started with a tribute to a bull riding announcer who had recently passed. During his tenured career he was known for telling life stories about inanimate objects. We were introduced, in first person, to the American Flag. This Flag has lived a hard life and made it through wars and blah blah blah and "I was born for freedom and God willing in freedom I will die". All this while in the spot light following Mr. Flag riding atop a horse (well a person holding it but it would have been much better showmanship if a flag itself riding on the horse alone, maybe next time). Next we were introduced to the stars of the show, two enormous raging bulls. The lights went out and the smoke machines blew smoke into the arena and the two bulls were let out to strut and warn the crowd of the possible maimings in the next few hours. They walked out, were obviously trained to stand and blow smoke out of their enormous nostrils and then saunter back into the cage thingy. It was weird and exciting all at the same time. The scary bull was named Voodoo Child, which coincidentally is the name Jamey and I were going to give our two person folk-synthesizer band. Once they were back in the pen the competition was on. The lights came up and the cowboys began to ride and clutch the rope thing for what seems to be an interminable 8 seconds.
(One of these guys isn't a cowboy, can you guess which one? You guessed it! It's the guy wearing the backpack and running shoes to a rodeo.)
The next few hours went by with little blood and the competition ended with a winner and prize money and lots of oohs and aahs. Towards the end of the competition I followed Jamey to the super exclusive press/family/cowboy area behind the bull cages. I was standing near the exit door for the cowboys once they have been bucked off and all of the sudden I felt I was getting pelted in the head. I immediately looked up to blame the crowd for throwing popcorn and trash at the confused looking yankee in the bull pit but to my relief it was only dirt chunks being spewed from an angry bull charging the exit door five feet away. It was one of those moments in my life where I take pause and wonder what the hell I'm doing and how I got there. I've had a lot of those during my 20's.
After the competition we decided that we needed some tall boys so we headed to the upstairs bar for a drink and some two steppin'. We rocked out to some G&R and traditional country hits and then called it a night. All in all it was a great, authentic, weird, American experience.
I'm still not sure how I feel about Rodeo or Bullnanza's for that matter. I'm stuck somewhere between letting it be what it is, another bizarre sporting event or being adamantly against the exploitation of bulls. I'll let you know when I figure it out.
Meanwhile, on the domestic home front, after a brief goopy eye illness, Alfie is better and the countdown is on until his surgery to lose his physical manhood. We've recently taught him to "shake" which we are now regretting because he has enormous paws and his "shake" generally turns into a right hook to our face. We'll be working on this one. Below are some recent pictures of Jamey and Alfie wearing life vests dangerously wrong.
I hope everyone is well. Stay on the look out for Jamey's blog. I know I said he would be writing one but he's slow and we don't want to read some lame dribble so we have to give him time and no pressure. The Panama book officially went to the typesetter so that one is in the bag! YAY! Be well and be happy friends and family!
