The first day of summer found me downtown on Leavenworth loading debris from a demo. Tattered sheetrock, chickenwire with scabs of cement in a tangle, blocks of two by four with shanks of sawz-alled nails gleaming like mirror finish flushed into them. Bam a two hand lob drops the contractor grade garbage liners crammed with remodel victims in the bed of my god damn ford f250. We got in and took off.
Big Jim was talking about saddle broncs, breaking horses with just a Committee Saddle and a rein.
“Ever hear of Jim Shoulders? He was a famous bronc rider. He was my hero growing up. Shoot. He was my dad’s hero.”
“Wait…what’s a Committee Sadle?” I asked Jim. I was trying to learn as much as I could.
“The rodeo committee got together and said you had to have free swingin’ stirrups a certain size, a saddle a certain size, no horn.”
“No horn?”
“No horn, the thing in front between your legs you grab onto . You could damage yourself if you got thrown off the front.”
“you mean it’d rip your balls off?”
“Right.”
It was warm outside, girls were wearing skirts, putting their summer walks on, lots of side to side, smooth calves working hard. I was headed to the dump and talking about horses. This is gonna be a great summer.