The Michigan Daily - Friday, January 8, 1993 - Page 5 T!r x . V 9r "~ r s?3 A ULD LA NG SY NE M E ETS T H E We sat on the bales of hay surrounding the As I surveyed GUI- group, though, I dance floor, plastic cups of champagne poised lieved to see that I was not the only one and ready. a little out-of-place. With the exceptio Three ... two ... one ... 1-appy Ncw Year. brother, my hunily seemed to be a bit unc We tossed streamers, confetti and ten-gallon able. And even the Winkehnans (real hats into the air to welcome 1993. who we met at the New Year's Eve ho The band began playing "Achy Breaky I eart" seemed a bit shaky in their saddles. and we kicked up our boot-clad heels one last Thc flying L gives scores of city si time before sitting down to our New Year's feast taste of real ranch life every week. Guest -black-eyed pas and cornbread. cottages fully equipped with roaring fir Not exactly my typical New Year's Eve.T'lhen eat hearty meals from a buffet in a lodge again, the Flying L Guest Ranch in Bandera, with mooseheads and drink Lone Star Texas, was not exactly what I had in mind when locally-brewed libation) in the Brandi my dad told me we were taking a famiil y vacation Saloon. Nightly entertainment includ over winter break. Bandera, the self-proclaimed alongs with Cowboy Hoot and demonstr "Cowboy Capital otthe World," isn't where most oun and rope tricks by Cowboy Hage Ohio families hang out in their sparc time. I began addition to the aibrementioned hoe-dowii to realize how inaccurately my hometown - they are not out on the trail, guests can p Wyoming, Ohio - is named. The Cincinnati tennis and browse in the general store (r suburb is far from the Wild West. shop). But back to the peas. When I politely refused As we rode off into the sunrise, I bega a steaming plate of this Texan delicacy, a man that my luck was turning around. The sitting at the end of the long wooden table told mec was gorgeous. H illtops seemed to floa the history behind the dish. early morning tog. A Tlexas-sized creek( "You have to eat black-eyed peas on New river by Ohio standarmds) babbled along Year's Eve. They bring you luck for the coming trail.Dleer frolicked amnong the low-hangi year," he explained. I managed to keep Psycho at a coin orta But, try as I might, I could only manage to eat - not lagging~ behind the others, but not one black-eyed pea. I went to bed with an un- ing" either. settled sense of foreboding about the outcome of Things went pretty smoothly until my 1993. down through a small ravine. But this t My prophesy seemed to be coining true as we brother, the urban cowboy himself, had rode the haywagon to the stable for our morning problem. ride the next day. Beftire we were out of sight of As we bumped up the trail. I heard I the lodge, the wind had penetrated the four layers "I .adies and gentlemen, that really hurt. of clothing I was wearing, and my hands were A lfew short steps later, he continued, turning strange colors (I naively neglected to and gent lemnen, I won't be having any cI - bring gloves on my vacation to "sunny South We returned to the lodge refreshe Texas") blown and slightly bow-leo ged. - fl When we arrived at the stable, Cowboy Bob, By the time dinner rolled around, I the head wrangler, assigned each member of our hungry I could have eaten a horse - bu group to a strapping stallion. An inexperienced trusty companion Psycho, of course. rider, I cautiously mounted my horse. Bob came When we filed into the buffet area r V around to adjust the stirrups to my legs, which are pleased to see a vat full of flavorful bla4 short even by Ohio standards. And everything is peas. Yet again, I passed up an oppolr bigger in Texas, you know. guarantee myself a lucky year. to i"What's his name, Bob?" I asked, petting the I lowever, I did expand my culinary h Photos i top rgl, horse on his neck. at the Flying L. I sampled such dow 1.Urbancowoy Brin Peerle"Psycho," he said, without even looking up. favorites as barbecued brisket, biscuits best Marlboyo man pose, minus the "Psycho? I can't ride a horse named Psycho. sage, gravy and mashed potatoes. cigarette. To be perfectly honest, I can't ride a horse. Don't During my adventures in the.chow li 2.eisartands you have a Buttercup or aTenderfoot I could take my first exposure to chicken-fried steak 2. Melissa stands in front of the Flying L out instead?" breaded and deep-fried to resemble ch Guest Ranch with wranglers Bob and By this time, Bob had moved on to help my could feel my coronary arteries harden Curly, brother, and I was left wondering what sort. of each cholesterol-laden bite. But it taste 3. Cowboy Hagen demonstrates proper equestrian Norman Bates I was sitting on. I After dinner, my family piled into o lasso technique. swallowedmy fearandtried toget accustomed to cars (outofplace among Bandera'smany 4. This sign beckons buckaroos from being 10 feet off the ground. trucks) and drove to downtown Bandera across the country to Texas' oldest "I'll show this horse who's in charge of this theevening at Arkey Blue'sSilverDollar 'honky-tonk.' situation - me," I thought as we began our the oldest honky-tonk in Texas. excursion. However, my confidence wasquickly As we descended the steps to the PHOTOS AND STORY BY dashed when Bob rode next to me with a friendly basement establishment, I was shocked MELISSA PEERLESS warning. numnberof patrons wearing cowboy hats. "Don't pull back on the reins too hard or he then, the only cowboys I had ever seen ..1 . ..W ..A-.1 ~ .nf A .ay nni.ns- h 2,niti anrn-d ifft rind t wemre Woinm romav- the nickmarr WILD, WILD WEST was re- who felt. m of my comfort- Tfexans e-down) ickers a Is stay in eplaces, adorned beers (a ing Iron es sing- ations of n - in is. When lay golf, ead: gift an to feel scenery .t on the a raging side our ng trees. ble walk "tuilgat- we rode ime, my his own him say, "Ladies hildren." 'd, wind- was so t not my , I was ack-eyed .unity to horonls /n-i-home with sau- ne, I had - beef hicken. I ing with d good. ur rental pick-up to spend & Saloon, dimly-lit to see a Up until n il bars ine of nv We stationed ourselves at a long table right next to the band. We sipped Lone Stars and enjoyed such tunes as "Two of a Kind Working on a Full 'House," "I've Got Friends in Low Places" and "Here's a Quarter. Call Someone Who Cares." After a couple brews, I set out with my cousin to find the cowgirls' room. The male door atten- dant let us into the graffiti-covered facilities. When we questioned the amount of privacy of- fered by the sheets of burlap serving as stall doors, a woman told us not to worry. "You're lucky. This is the first new burlap they've gotten in 25 years. The old stuff was full of holes," she said.W We signed the walls and left to explore the rest of the saloon. The walls were adorned with mooseheads (decked out with blinking lights for the holiday season), velvet Elvises and a collection of vanity license plates from all 50 states. The mantle was home to a shrine to bandleader and bar-owner Arkey Blue - an 8 x 10 glossy of Arkey flanked by antlers and flickering candles. A Dolly Parton pinball machine clanged and blinked in the cor- ner. My cousin and I moseyed on over to the bar where three locals were carrying on a Texas- friendly conversation. "That Ed, I can't believe he forgot about his date with Mary Lou," one cowboy said. "He must be one brick shy of a full load." "Ain't that the truth," the other one replied. "le's barking up the wrong tree if he thinks she'll lbrgive him for this one. She was as mad as a wet hen." "Now he's gone and done it," the third said. "I saw Mary Lou last night. She was all gussied up. She looked nice, but, bless her heart, she was crying in her beer," the firstone said. "So I asked her to dance to some belt buckle polishing music - you dance so close you polish each other's belt buckles." We walked back to the table a bit confused. "That sure was a sorry lot of guys," my cousin said. As we were preparing to leave, Arkey an- nounced that the saloon was selling souvenir ''- shirts after the band finished its show. He said they had smalls, mediums, larges, extra larges. and extra-extra larges for the men -and that the women's shirts were sold by bra sizes. "We have 32s, 34s, 36s, and a box of 'hubba- hubbas' and 'ooh, hot damns,"'Arkey announced. I'll have to look for those sizes the next time I'm at The Cap. Apparently unable to think of an occasion when he would wear a Silver Dollar Saloon T- shirt, my dad opted for a compact disc of Arkey Blue and the Blue Cowboys' Greatest Hits. Now, through the miracle of CDs, we could take Arkey Blue with us back to Ohio, probably Arkey's first trip to the Buckeye State. I realized that something more than miles separates the two states. Make a difference with your resolution It's one week into 1993, and I still haven't made a New Year's resolution. In the past, I might have felt guilty for this transgression. But this year, I don't. While I was growing up, New Year's Eve and New Year's resolutions were big Josh events in my house. Dubow brothes and sisters and my parents would all gather around in the family room, watch movies, make hot dogs and marshmallows in the fireplace and when midnight came, make a resolution. We'd go around the room and everybody would say something like, "I'm gonna lose 10 pounds this year," or "I'm gonna get better grades this year," or "I'm gonna exercise and get in shape this year." But almost always, everybody's resolution had to do only with themselves. I never really knew what to say, so I usually went with the grades or if I was feeling adventurous, resolve to keep my room neat - something which I assuredly would break by Martin Luther King Day. Now, my family doesn't gather around the fireplace on New Year's Eve. Most of us kids go our separate ways to one party or another to ring in the New Year with our friends. And I have stopped making New Year's resolutions. But after talking to many people about their New Year's resolutions, I found out that I'm not in the minority. Most people's response when I asked them if they mahe a resolution was either, I forgot, I don't do that stuff, or, I don't remember. The people who did make resolutions mostly made the same ones my family did years ago. Lose weight, get in shape and get better grades. If everybody held to their resolutions, we could replace all of Ann Arbor's junk food spots with CCRBs and libraries. But I don't think we need to jump the gun, because most of these people won't keep their resolutions either. It will only take a couple of weeks for someone to go to Stucchi's instead of the CCRB. Or go out to a party one Thursday night and sleep through their Friday classes. .TChis is why I have become disenchanted with New Year's resolutions. People rarely keep them and when they do, they only affect themselves. It is time people made more meaningful resolutions that gave a more widespread reward than the monotonous individual resolutions like losing weight or doing better in school. If for one year, everybody resolved to treat each other with respect and dignity, it could have a mieaningful effect on society. Looking back at 1992, there were a multitude of examples of individuals or groups of people failing to treat each other with respect. Whether it be the ethnic cleansing in the former Yugoslovia, the riots in Los Angeles, or the everyday discrimination which pervades this country, people donot treat each other with-dignity. If people cared more about others, would individuals have to go to bed hungry and homeless? Would thousands of people be starving in Somalia? Granted, a resolution to treat other people with respect doesn't sound as glunorous as saying, T'm onnna et a four noint, or.