“Death was never far from a cowboy. He may have submerged the possibility in the youthful bluster of supposed invincibility, but every time a cowhand dug his boot into the stirrup, the ride could carry him to trail’s very end.” – Patrick Dearen
Sitting across from me at the table overlooking Braddock Park in Boston, my nephew opens the envelope I’d just handed to him – the envelope that contains the very first promotional items for this very website’s fall theme – a selection of pictures scented with ‘Purple Suede’ by Goldfield & Banks. (A few days later, my niece Emi will play ‘Cowboys and Angels’ by George Michael – the universe conspiring as it does to confirm themes and ideas and the overall trajectory and story arc for life.)
When your heart’s in someone else’s hands
Monkey see and monkey do, their wish is your command
You’re not to blame, everyone’s the same
All you do is love and love is all you do
I should know by now the way I fought for you
You’re not to blame, everyone’s the same
I know you think that you’re safe, mister
Harmless deception that keeps love at bay
It’s the ones who resist that we most want to kiss
Wouldn’t you say?
Cowboys and angels, they all have the time for you
Why should I imagine that I’d be a find for you?
Why should I imagine that I’d have something to say?
But that scar on your face, that beautiful face of yours
In your heart, there’s a trace of someone before
Back to the table in Boston, where Noah is pulling out the pictures – the fragrance of leather and spices surrounding him like a lasso. At first his face is blank, which is generally the resting state of my nephew’s face. He’s not going to put up a front or a pose or even a smile unless you offer some inspiration first. As he peruses the promo items, his expression runs quickly through a succession of tells – a bit of a scoff, a slight confusion, a puzzled and quizzical query – before landing incontrovertibly on one of absolute amusement – the slightest slant of a reluctant smile and a glint in the eye that means his crazy Uncle managed to surprise him yet again.
When your heart’s in someone else’s plans
Things you say and things you do, that they don’t understand
It’s such a shame, always ends the same
You can call it love but I don’t think it’s true
You should know by now, I’m not the boy for you
You’re not to blame, always ends the same
I know you think that you’re safe, sister
Harmless affection that keeps things this way
It’s the ones who persist for the sake of a kiss who will pay
Despite my nephew’s eventual amusement, he remained wisely suspicious and wary of the pictures before him, because I’ve taught him well.
“Do you think you’re a cowboy?” he asked doubtfully. (This is also the guy who would ask, “Are you really too dainty to pick up a sandwich?” when he eyed me cutting up a breakfast wrap the next morning.)
We both laughed a little.
Choosing my words carefully, I took my time trying to get the explanation just right.
“I think… I share the same basic tenets of what makes a cowboy a cowboy: a ferocious independence, a tendency to buck against mainstream society, and the unwavering determination to march to my own drum – in the crazy things I wear, in how I act, in what I say and do. And I hope that’s one thing you and Emi have learned from me over all these years.”
My nephew thought about this for a bit, then said something that confirmed everything I’d been wondering and worrying about for this fall’s theme, setting me immediately at ease, and impressing me with his ability to cut through to the heart of the matter: “You’re like… a disguised cowboy.”
In that one sentence, I was genuinely moved – that my nephew had seen me, and that my nephew had understood.
Cowboys and angels, they all take a shine to you
Why should I imagine that I was designed for you?
Why should I believe that you would stay?
That scar on your face, that beautiful face of yours
Don’t you think that I’d know they’ve hurt you, before?
Take this man to your bed
Maybe his hands will help you forget
Please be stronger than your past
The future may still give you a chance.
Welcome to the autumn of 2026, and remember:
There is no more sensitive creature than a boy, especially a cowboy.
