Embrace and assert your inner non-cowboy

Not “Cowboying Up”

By A.R. Hudson
Gazette Columnist

(The Gazette Blog is pleased to introduce a brand new columnist, A.R. Hudson. His column Not "Cowboying Up" will appear on a regular basis as the muse strikes. As always, we welcome opposing viewpoints in the form of letters to the editor, rants, or comments posted in our BY THE PEOPLE section.  Just click BY THE PEOPLE in the right hand column.)

What exactly is it to “Cowboy up?” Recently, I saw a bumper sticker that demanded that I do so. Since I wasn't sure that would be a good idea, I decided to ferret out what exactly it was. I admit that I had my suspicions. Was I capable of “cowboying up” on anything?

What I have come to believe is that it's part of the whole anti-intellectual vibe that's encroaching into politics. It manifests in statements like: “Sarah Palin is a breath of fresh air. I would vote for her for president. She would be much better than Barack Obama.” It is obvious to some, that there is a hidden “high-intelligence” in people who appear otherwise. They have the “common man's” wisdom.

I think that it is important to respond to these kinds of statements in this manner: “When you choose a doctor, do you want a 'breath of fresh air?' Would you want a cowboy to repair your aortic aneurysm?” Just as a medical degree increases the odds that we will get a good doctor, wouldn't a Harvard law degree (we are a nation of laws) bode well for a presidential candidate?

I don't have any problem with cowboys; I just think that people with law degrees and, dare I say, a reasonable command of the English language, are more likely to make good presidents. I don't “light-up” when I see a president clearing brush or drinking beer. Perhaps Presidents shouldn't be doing those things at all. Let the cowboys “Cowboy up!”

It seems like the only “virtue” that many of us seek from our elected representatives is that they are independent spirits: cowboys. It's why the word “maverick” entered the political lexicon.

Smart people can be quite helpful. They don't intimidate me at all, unless they are sociopaths. A sociopath who pretended to be a cowboy might be a disastrous president.

To say someone is smart is not to say that someone else is dumb. We learn different things at Harvard Law School than we do on the “open range.” And those Harvard things are not part of a “fancy pants” education at all: they are good, and we should respect that. “My daddy told me” wisdom is nifty, but has a short range.

I agree that cowboys are, in a physical sense, manly. But intellectual “manliness” means something quite different to this non-cowboy. And this leads to a short examination of the three Rs of “cowboying up”: Religion, Republican and Rodeo--none of which I care to have anything to do with.

Bumper stickers are enlightening clues to unlocking the secrets of the “All I need to know is what my daddy told me” crowd. One sticker insisted that, “Real men love Jesus” and another demanded that I “Cowboy up for Jesus.” While the apparent compassion of Christ is appealing; true intellectual manliness would not, I think, involve accepting unsubstantiated claims about the universe or that any sort of moral high ground belongs to any particular religion. Clearly, both those who make ridiculous claims about the universe and those who don't, have moral failings.

Since, during the last presidential election, I didn't see any bumper stickers that read, “Cowboys for Obama” I am going to assume that “cowboying up” often means being a Republican. This doesn't seem like a stretch. The cold, sterile, clinical, free market extremism of the modern Republican party is akin to a gigantic capitalist rodeo--no compassion. And since compassion is the highest and most manly virtue, supporting free market extremism is something that I ain't gonna do. Markets are completely indifferent to human suffering. This is self-evident. And laissez faire is all one has out on the open range. Hey cowboys, how does that work when you are sick?

While Payson's annual rodeo “ropes in” lots of revenue for our struggling local economy, with the exception of barrel racing, it is a rather ugly affair. The athleticism is remarkable but it comes at the expense of the animals. Is anyone actually willing to suggest that these poor beasts don't dread every single minute of these little red neck circuses? These are events devoid of natural compassion and are often accompanied by a stifling breed of blind, empty, low-brow, conformist patriotism. Nothing, in fact, could be more unmanly.

Let's face it: Payson is a cowboy town, however; many of us don't care to “do the cowboy thing.” This blog, therefore, is for closet non-cowboys. It's about life as a non-cowboy in a cowboy culture. Do not, under any circumstance, “cowboy up” on anything. Embrace and assert your inner non-cowboy by proudly proclaiming, “I am not a cowboy.”