Fall doesn’t usually arrive exactly according to the calendar that we humans have tried so valiantly to impose upon the rest of the universe, though this year it seems pretty close. I felt it for the first time the other day while out taking pictures for the cowboy theme you see on this website. It was a sunny afternoon, and as I drove through the back-hills of Berne and Westerlo, I realized how lucky I was to be surrounded by such beauty, even if such a scene would soon wreak of barren, bare branches and cold, windy weather. For now, it was remarkably magnificent – the leaves were just starting to change on the trees, catching the late afternoon light in a way that only happens for a brief section of the year, and once you miss it it’s gone for another 12 months.
There was such a drastic line of demarcation between sunlight and sunset, and once the sun went down behind the mountains I knew the roads, and the world, would look and feel very different. It always happens sooner and faster than I think it will, and so I hurried my way along the winding roads to try to beat the darkness. Fall is fraught with the tease of danger, and as long as it remains a tease I’ll enjoy the thrill.
Living in today’s world of madness, where nuance and subtlety and shading are lost in favor of strictly-tribalized labels and designations, one might be tempted to decry my seemingly-sudden turn into a wannabe-cowboy, but that’s missing the point of this journey, this fall, this project, and pretty much this entire website and blog. We are never just one thing: we change, we evolve, we shift, we bend, we grow – and to simply put on a pair of boots and a hat and proclaim oneself a cowboy is tragically foolhardy. Most of the people in my life get that, but sometimes even I lose myself in the guise of the moment, and maybe that’s been a bit more intentional at this juncture of season.
Inhabiting a new style and persona from time to time is vital to figuring out who you are inside – at least, it’s been helpful for me. Getting too inside my head, overthinking and overanalyzing and overdoing the quest for absolute perfection (even if I’d long ago given up that particular quest) were the pratfalls of the first few decades of my life – it’s been a bit of a corrective journey these last few years, and this cowboy guise is enough of a remove, while also staying true to the essential essence of my character.
Telling word, that.
Character.
What exactly does it mean here? Is it just another term for a specific persona – a device of dramatic machination as in a play or movie? Or is it the deeper meaning of the idea of one’s ‘character’ as the essential make-up of who they are internally as a person? That’s a delicious question, one I’d rather leave dangling in the air for a while – for my own rumination and contemplation rather than any performatively-mysterious cowboy stance.
Come on (whoo!) go ahead, and sing along (hey!) because everyone has done their cunty-cuntry turn – witness Madonna and Lady Gaga and now Beyonce (and we aren’t going to compare because comparison is the thief of joy). There’s enough room for all of us cowboys and cowgirls and cowpeeps – why destroy or attempt to diminish anyone else’s idea of fun? Temporary guise or permanent personality trait finally revealed after years of hiding it away? Keep ’em guessing (whoo!) keep ’em asking (hey!) and keep ’em coming back for more until we’ve peeled away all the layers and all the costumes and you finally get your full-frontal bare-naked body spilling out all of its creative juice…
Some have expressed surprise and wary disbelief that I could actually be turning a country corner, but then they haven’t been paying much attention – the only one true constant thing I’ve ever been is surprising, unpredictable, and slippery as quicksilver. My tastes change too much, my interests shift with the slightest wind, and my own sense of self is constantly evolving and transforming, ever on the hunt for something to inspire and entice. Besides, most people look better in a pair of cowboy boots and Wrangler jeans. Try it and see for yourself, you may be surprised too.
Even at the age of 51, there are still twists and turns in this thing called life waiting to be taken and navigated. And at such an age, I find myself craving just a little bit of whiplash, a little unsettling toss and tumble to remind me I’m still alive, still able to be interested and interesting, still getting back on the horse no matter how many times or how horrendously he might have bucked me off in the past.
Feeling a little reckless, a little restless, and a little feckless – because who the fuck needs a feck anyway?
“If you wanna make it country, baby, that’s ok, cause I was born, I was born, I was born this way.”
Our cowboy foray into the country-western vibe finds some pop culture resonance in this countrified version of Lady Gaga’s ‘Born This Way’. I remember when this came out initially as part of the track’s original release – at the time I was puzzled by it, but I didn’t hate it. All these years later, I’m finding even greater appreciation for it, particularly during this fall of the cowboy. It’s also a fun excursion from the more serious expositions that may be in store – when you have a moment for fun and enjoyment, you better be damn well take it. Especially on a Friday.
Driving, windows wide open, music fighting with wind, shadows fighting with sunlight – the day recalls the summer, the way some warm and humid fall days keep you guessing which way time is traveling: a mirror of spring, with the staleness of decay in the air the only tip-off as to which end of the seasonal year we might be nearest.
A cowboy’s journey is based largely on seasons, flying on the wind and the weather, seeking the sun and warmth, seeking some bit of hospitable land and atmosphere – it’s a journey of the moment – the journey of a Friday afternoon with the bulk of the weekend still and always ahead of him. He follows his own path – sometimes it leads to comfort, sometimes it leads to hell – always it leads to wherever he finds himself at the moment. There is not much in the way of planning or preparation, or so it seems. A cowboy is always more prepared than he likes to let on, and often less. The cowboy’s conundrum, with no resolution in sight or desire.
And every time a cowboy seems about to let loose on a Friday, there’s always a sliver of seriousness to his abandon – riding a little too close to the edge, ever-ready to fall even in the midst of all the fun. He burns and kicks and thrashes, not unlike the horse on which he rode into the sunset and away from the day. There will be time to rest later…
Chris says my podcast should be titled ‘SHUT THE FUCK UP!’ and he’s not wrong. About the title at least. About the podcast, everyone is wrong because I have absolutely no interest in podcasting. Isn’t the bullshit here enough? Da fuq?!?
A native of Leominster, Massachusetts, Erik P. Carter was trained in virology to prepare him for his day job in vaccine research, but outside of that important endeavor he also manages to explore figurative oil painting in exquisite fashion. Citing Caravaggio and Francis Bacon as inspirations, Carter’s work is gorgeously Baroque and sumptuously moody, with light and shadow playing a dramatic duet. Since 2019 he’s had several exhibitions (mostly in Boston and Philadelphia) in which he intertwines themes of religious history and homoerotic beauty for a combustible and captivating collection of work. There is something poignant and lonely about his art – a quiet stillness that simultaneously exists with an intensity that finds its tension in the sinewy muscles of human flesh, and the ever-approaching possibility of destruction. If it seems we favor artists for Dazzler of the Day, it is not in your imagination. Check out his website here for a powerful view of his work.
Not all the way away, just not as intensely and directly as the summer had us believing it might last. We always want to believe, even when we know better. Sometimes the smallest chills are the most upsetting, the way that they hint at atrocities rather than bluntly revealing them all at once. Dread is a most potent enforcer of fear.
Still, one finds it difficult to feel anything other than emboldened in the golden glow of fall’s sunlight, no matter how quickly it runs out. The heat feels just as lovely as it did in the summer… and it will come back in the spring, like it always does.
Loneliness is a funny thing for a cowboy. Funny as in strange and mysterious, not mirthful or merry. In my admittedly-limited and stereotypical broadly-stroked fantasy of this character, a cowboy both cherishes solitude, yet struggles with the loneliness such a stance often ends up yielding. A certain lonesomeness is part of many a cowboy – in the wistful restlessness that often leads someone to becoming a cowboy.
River of love, you carved your canyon Carries me out, from the place I’m hidin Will tonight prove, what I’ve known for so long Don’t let me go on alone
A heart is a fickle thing you can hear it but you just can’t find it Scavenging for your love through bones of what’s been left behind To the stars and the moon, I’m howling for you But an echo is the only reply Tonight, the coyote ain’t the only one crying
This marks one of the darker turns of the cowboy’s journey, one that comes as the first fall nights turn cold. We forget how much night will come to dominate these next few months until it’s here and all turns dark so early. As much as I welcome the fall – and these days I largely do – it’s still shocking when it happens. The first hard frost is somewhere soon, like some foreboding promise lingering in the back of your mind, not letting you enjoy yourself fully until it happens, until the worry is done – and even then, it will have already become such a habit that it won’t depart so quickly.
A heart is a fickle thing you can hear it but you just can’t find it Scavenging for your love through bones of what’s been left behind To the stars and the moon, I’m howling for you But an echo is the only reply Tonight, the coyote ain’t the only one crying
For this Hump Night of Wednesday, when the work-week is over halfway done, here’s a bluesy bit of music to see us through to the weekend. Heartbreak doesn’t allow itself to be bound or limited by arbitrary timeframes. A weekday or a weekend is all the same to sorrow. Duration matters only slightly less, and some would argue not at all. Sadness will persist as long as it wants, and as long as we allow it. Sometimes there is no choice.
Once you’ve tasted blood, then you’d understand it Denying myself, would leave me out here stranded A heart is a fickle thing you can hear it but you just can’t find it Scavenging for your love through bones of what’s been left behind To the stars and the moon, I’m howling for you But an echo is the only reply Tonight, the coyote ain’t the only one crying
PS – As we told our favorite Uncle to try to get him to stop smoking, ‘Smoking is rat poison!‘ We repeat it here despite the featured photo, which is only a pose. All of life is a pose, sometimes a dark pose, and sometimes a pose in the darkness.
Continuing our growing line-up of LGBTQ+ country music superstars, Justin Green earns his first crowning as Dazzler of the Day thanks to some incredible songs like ‘Coyote’ and ‘Reno’ and ‘Front Page News.’ His style of country music is rooted in the tradition of storytelling that strikes the most emotional and powerful chord of the many genres his music encompasses. A self-taught musician, Green’s authenticity is what sets him apart from other artists, compellingly driving some of his greatest work. Check out his website here for merchandise, performance dates, and booking information.
The guy almost dropped his brand new cup of iced coffee as his mother (I’m assuming it was his mother, based on age and interaction) watched with a weary/wary eye. He wasn’t a young kid – he was in his twenties at least – and after he caught it he turned to his mother, or whomever the older woman with him was, and remarked, “That was close!”
And the awful, judgmental, nit-picky and easily-annoyed part of me (a very large part of me, let’s be frank – larger than I’d like and yes I’m working on it) thought that this is the sort of banal moronic talk that always makes me question whether some people just want to fill silence, no matter how stupid and pointless the words are.
“That was close!”
Are you kidding me? Like, why? Why bother even saying such a ridiculous thing?
Before you come for me and attack me for not being open-minded to whatever challenges or circumstances he might have, he was talking in a very adult and intelligent way before and after the whole ‘That was close!’ comment – and really, it’s probably just one of those things that people simply say without even realizing they’re saying it. Like ‘Whoopsie Daisy!’
A Southern Spectacle in just about every way, singer-songwriter Adam Mac completes The Cowgays triumvirate (see also Brooke Eden and Chris Housman) and deservedly is crowned Dazzler of the Day thanks to a musical prowess and a powerful queer voice that is beautifully pushing the boundaries of what some of us think of as country music. That challenge is apparent both in who is singing the songs and how his brand of country-funk-pop defies the categorization too many want to place on our musical artists. Check out his website here for further evidence of his sparkle and spectacle.
This will very likely be the final clematis flower of the season – it caught my eye as I returned home on a Sunday morning. Andy was mowing the lawn, and I saw this piece of purple, royally resplendent in the sunlight so I pulled the car into the garage and quickly grabbed this shot. It was the only one I got, as a friendly neighbor stopped to chat just at that moment. We had a nice talk, then I headed inside and forgot to get another pic. Happily, this one is enough – one last gasp of the prettiness that happens when the sun conspires to grant us a little more warmth. We’ll take it for as long as she gives it.
This post should have a meatier bit of prose to it, but I can’t provide that at the moment. Work and other obligations have me behind the eight ball, and I do not do well when I find myself behind an eight ball. Bear with me – this cowboy is spent, but he only needs a little recharge. He’ll be riding back, and riding high, in just a bit…
Born in Japan and raised in Oklahoma, singer-songwriter Zach Bryan has released several country music albums and EPs, including his most recent #1 smash ‘With Heaven On Top’, which he is currently performing on tour. For his voice, his music, and his courage to never stand down, Bryan easily earns this Dazzler of the Day crowning. Check out his website here for upcoming tour dates, music and merchandise.
