(THEME)
SS: The Lives of the Cowboys... (HOOVES, SLOW WALK) brought to you by the Road Apple iPod for Horses -- if your mount is dragging his feet these days, just hook these headphones to his bridle and see if music doesn't perk him up. (WHINNY OF DELIGHT, TROTS) . Road Apple iPod. And now...the Lives of the Cowboys. (THEME OUT, HORSE WHINNIES, WIND, DISTANT COYOTE)
GK: What you thinking about, Dusty?
TR: Who said I was thinking--
GK: I can hear you thinking--
TR: Haven't had a thought in days--
GK: C'mon. Out with it.
TR: What day is today anyway?
GK: What does it matter? Gotta wait until March and then pick up some cattle for the drive north.
TR: I'm expecting mail. In Yellow Gulch. Mail train comes through on Wednesdays.
GK: Well, it's not Wednesday. What mail you expecting?
TR: Don't want to say.
GK: It's about retirement, isn't it.
TR: How'd you know?
GK: You talk in your sleep. You sent for a brochure at that Paradise Valley retirement village in El Paso.
TR: I was gonna talk to you about it.
GK: Nothing to talk about. Just go. It's your life.
TR: Don't you ever think about retirement?
GK: Let me tell you something. The use of the word paradise in connection with El Paso is purely speculative. The more accurate term would be inferno.
TR: I hear it's a beautiful place. They've got a swimming pool, a health club, an 18-hole golf course.
GK: Golf! You never golfed in your life!
TR: I could learn.
TK (OFF): I could teach him.
GK: Who's that-- what-- (FOOTSTEPS APPROACH) Big Messer-- what you doing here?
TK: I come and brought Dusty his mail.
GK: Never saw you in a green plaid jacket and yellow pants before, Big Messer. Used to seeing you in a filthy shirt with blood and gore on it from rassling people and biting and kicking them and gouging their eyes out.
TK: I'm a different man now, Lefty. I retired and suddenly I started to enjoy life and I felt no need to shoot people.
GK: Well, how nice...
TR: Big Messer bought a condo at Paradise Valley and he's looking for a roommate.
GK: You want to go, go-- don't let me stop you.
TK: It's a three bedroom condo, so I could take the both of you if you want to come.
TR: Why don't you come take a look at it?
GK: Don't need to take a look at it.
TR: Shuffleboard, a crafts area, two meals a day, lots of
social activities, 48-inch flat screen TV.
GK: You want to go, go.
TR: I can't go and leave you all alone out here on the godforsaken plains and have to face the rattlesnakes and grizzlies and the flash floods and the lightning strikes and the rockslides and the ever-present danger of Unitarian missionaries--
GK: I'll be just fine.
TR: You want me to go?
GK: Do what you want to do.
TR: If you want me to go, just say the word, I'll go.
GK: It's up to you.
TR: I'm sure you could find a better pardner. Someone more your type.
GK: If you're going, just go -- you don't have to explain it.
TR: I know I've been a burden to you. You want to be shut of me-- I'll just mosey along.
TK: You two sound like some old married couple.
GK: Shut up, Big Messer. Get your nose out of it.
TR: Why don't you come with, Lefty? Just have a look.
TK: Awww, he isn't going to come, Dusty. Nothing you can say. Just leave him here to sit in the dirt and drink bad coffee and think about his hemmorhoids.
TR: Listen to me, Lefty. They got no use for cowboys anymore. Cattle are raised in feed lots. No need for a cattle drive. They got air freight now. You can go online and order beef and they'll fly it to your door in 24 hours. The world doesn't need us.
GK: The world doesn't know it needs us but we know. We stand for freedom. Us and the hobo, the gambler, the trucker, the sailor. America is the land of people who don't fit in. The exceptions. I'm proud to be one of them. I don't care if there aren't many more. That ain't the point. (STRUMS)
I ride down the trail though there's no reason to
It doesn't make sense but I do what I do
Cause I am who I am and I don't know why
But I'll go on as me til the day that I die
WHOOPITIYIYO GIT ALONG LITTLE DOGIES
I am a cowboy a cowboy I am
I refuse to fit in or follow directions
I do not network for social connections
I sit in the saddle and am quite solitary
Am I stubborn? I guess so and some would say very
The old world is passing, books and newspapers,
Jukeboxes, radio, talking to neighbors,
The hobo, the rebel, Woody Guthrie, James Dean,
Replaced by the network, the Web, the machine.
(FOOTSTEPS)
SS: Excuse me.
GK: What?
SS: There is no whooping in this area. We've posted this as a no-whooping area. You are within 500 yards of a school. So there is no whooping. Hello, Mr. Messer.
TK: Howdy. -- This is Miss Pendergast from Paradise Valley retirement village.
TR: Oh. Pleased to meet you, ma'am.
SS: You must be Dusty.
TR: That I am. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.
SS: We're looking forward to having you join us at Paradise Valley and I just came over with some forms to sign. This includes a no-whooping, no-spitting, no-shouting, and no telling jokes that tend to demean another person provision.
TR: I have to promise not to do any of those?
TK: (ASIDE) It's only a piece of paper. Sign it.
TR: What do you mean by "jokes that tend to demean"?
TK (ASIDE): Just sign it.
SS: I mean jokes that make people feel bad. We don't allow those.
TR: Why don't you ever need to buy a woman a watch? There's a clock on the oven.
SS: That's a joke? I don't get it.
TR: Did you hear about Playboy Magazine for married men? It's the same centerfold every month.
SS: That's not funny.
TR: What's the definition of a married man? A man who gets out of the shower to pee.
SS: Of course you'd get out of the shower to pee.
TR: So a woman asks her husband, "Will you love me when I'm old and fat and ugly?" and he says, "Yes, I do."
SS: You know, I don't have a lot of time here.
TR: Lemme see your agreement-- no whooping, no spitting, no loud talk--
TK (ASIDE): Just sign it, doggone it.
TR: (HAWKS AND SPITS)
GK: WHOOP. Let's go, pardner. Mount up.
(HORSE WHINNIES)
SS: You are not going to be part of our community! Most assuredly not.
GK: Let's ride. (GIDDYUPS, HORSES GALLOP)
(THEME)
SS: THE LIVES OF THE COWBOYS...brought to you by Road Apple iPods...for your horse (WHINNY).