VIP #8 – Monty Taylor

I have an unlimited pool of people to write about when I write about VIP’s. There’s been so many people throughout the course of my life that have had a profound effect on me in one way or another. I’m grateful for the things I’ve learned from all of them and grateful for the deposits they’ve made into my life.

Monty Taylor, or ‘Mont’ as I’ve called him since we were little kids, is my brother (there’s just the two of us) but he’s been my best friend since the day he was born 59 years ago. Oh, we had our differences when we were growing up like all siblings do but neither one of us ever tolerated anybody else mistreating the other one. We’ve been ‘partners in crime’, so to speak, all these 59 years. We’ve had about every kind of ‘wreck’ with horses, cattle and bulls that you could ever imagine……and some you just couldn’t imagine no matter how hard you tried. We’ve even had a couple of car wrecks; one when we were headed to school in little Allison, Texas and hit a patch of black ice and rolled my pickup up on the side. Another the night before I got married. We’d had way too much to drink and ran off a bridge on the Oklahoma line. It was a miracle that me or Mont….or Ken Henry weren’t killed. Then there was the time when I was about a 3rd grader and  Mont hadn’t started to school yet. Dad had gone to shoe horses at a neighboring ranch and he didn’t let us go. We weren’t happy about that so we got on a big ‘ol tractor. We somehow got it started….and it took off. I bailed out! (Sorry Mont!) But Mont rode ‘er on out…until it hit a cattle guard and spun out ’til it died. It could’ve easily killed us both! And, let’s just say that Cliff Taylor wasn’t too happy when he got back to the ranch and the tractor had run through the fence.

We had no choice but to be cowboys and we took to it full blast. We started our bull riding careers on the arm of the chairs and couches in a little one bedroom ranch house on the Washita River 35 miles SE of Canadian, Texas. We graduated from the chair arm to riding on the back of our dad on hardwood floors. They don’t call ’em hardwood floors for nothin’! You learn early on to try as hard as you can to not get bucked off and bang your head off the hardwood. We went to our first rodeo when I was 8 and Mont was 5. We were determined to practice riding but we had no bucking chute….but we made do! When we’d see the dust from Dad’s pickup go over that last hill….we’d gather every cow, calf and bull we had and ride every single one of them. We’d run ’em in a big pen, rope ’em, snub ’em to a post, put our rope on ’em….and the rodeo was on!! Dad started gettin’ kinda suspicious when the cow herd wouldn’t even come in when he fed….and when he noticed how bad we were bruised and skinned up!! Rodeo was a pretty important part of our lives for the next 20-25 years. We rode in every major rodeo throughout the United States and Canada…..and won money at most of ’em! We were both inducted into the Texas Rodeo Cowboy Hall of Fame in 2008.

Mont Taylor is a ‘Man’s Man’! He’s a man of his word, treats every single person with dignity, hard worker, great husband and Daddy, has a thousand really good friends and I doubt if he has an enemy on the whole planet. He’ll ‘loosen up’ with the best of ’em….but wouldn’t ever cause anybody any harm. We live 300 miles apart but I talk to him a couple of times a week. I have a ton of respect and admiration for him. His impact on my life has been immeasurable…..Mont Taylor is definitely a VIP!!

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Check out some more VIP’s:

VIP #1 – Booger Bryant

VIP #2 – Sarge Cook

VIP #3 – Ronnie Chadwick

VIP #4 Paul Luchsinger

VIP #5  & 6 – Edith Yowell & Nellie Millar

VIP #7 – Rick Hudson

Gem City, Texas…….and the Prayer That Should’ve Never Been!

Prayer is an important ingredient of the Christian life. It’s at least one way that we’re able to communicate with the Father. I pray a lot these days. It’s probably not prayer like you might classify it, but it’s prayer, nonetheless. It’s mostly (but not limited to) just a one liner here and there. A lot of times I’ll just say, “Help me Lord”, or I’ll just speak a healing prayer over someone that comes to mind. I pray for Julie every morning when I put my wedding ring on, have for years. Anyway, my point is, prayer is a priority for me and I try to simply follow the lead of the Holy Spirit in doing it.

But there was a time in my life that I didn’t pray much. I mean, I prayed back during my rodeo career…..and daily, when I was getting on bulls every day. There’s just something about climbing down on an 1800 lb bull that makes you want to pray….if you know what I mean. But other than that prayer wasn’t a huge priority in my life. Should’ve been…..just wasn’t.

Life on the ranch was good. One of the yearly events was a little Christmas get-together at Gem City. Now, Gem City ain’t no ‘city’ at all. Matter of fact, all that Gem City consisted of was one house….and a little one room church house that had no regular services. Our nearest neighbors lived in that house. Homer and Georgia Thomas, an elderly….and very sweet couple, lived there. Every Christmas, a few days before, a lot of the ranch families would meet at the little church, sing a few Christmas carols, hear a little Christmas story preachin; and have a little something for the kids. There might be 40-50 people there and it was always a pleasant time.

Well, one year, and long before I’d started going to church, we went to the little program at Gem City. The carols had been sung, the preachin’ about Baby Jesus had happened and it was about time to wind it all up with a prayer when the preacher started lookin’ around the room. Everyone else had their head bowed and eyes closed but me and he made eye contact with me. I immediately thought, “This can’t be good!”. …..and get this!! Out of his mouth he says, “Andy Taylor….would you please lead us in prayer.” I ’bout gagged!! My blood pressure spiked! I broke out in a cold sweat! My whole life flashed in front of me! My hands got ‘clammy’! My mouth went dry! Julie and I looked at each other at exactly the same time….and as scared as I was…..she was scared – er!!! Neither one of us had any idea what I might say!

I have no idea what I prayed that night; maybe something like, “Lord, four-score and seven years ago” or “I pledge allegiance, Lord”  ….Who knows what I might’ve said? I somehow made it through some kind of prayer….and without cussin too’!

We got in the car and let out a huge sigh of relief. We had a good laugh (I bet the Lord even laughed on that one!)….but I was secretly planning what I could be doing next year on that night instead of going to the Christmas program in Gem City!

PS- I’ll bet, if you can find those church pews, you can still find mine and Julie’s ‘claw marks’ on ’em!!

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August 12…..A Day That Lives in Infamy……*at least for me!

Well, maybe that’s a little overstated…Ok it’s way overstated. But it was kinda devastating for me in it’s own little way. It was 34 years ago today at about four o’clock in the afternoon in Sydney, Iowa. For those unfamiliar with professional rodeo Sydney, Iowa is a great rodeo. It’s one that all the cowboys like and about everybody on the trail tries to get to Sydney if at all possible. It’s a small farming town but several thousand spectators come from miles around to see the great rodeo there. The local, between performances, hotspot was Russ’s. A little, nothing special of a bar except during the rodeo you can get all the homegrown tomatoes, cucumbers and corn that you can possibly eat….and of course the beer was cold.

This was going to be my last year of rodeo. I had decided that before the season ever started. Clint was three years old and there were several times during the season that I’d leave the ranch knowing that I wasn’t going to see Julie and him for 3 or 4 weeks. I could hardly take that. When I’d be leaving on one of those month long trips there’d be all kinds of bawlin’ and squawlin’……and every now and then they’d cry too!

I was having a good year despite not drawing great for several stretches. It had been a dream since I was a kid to go to the National Finals Rodeo. (For the non-rodeo people….it’s like the World Series of rodeo) The previous two years I had been on track to make the NFR only to be derailed by injuries that kept me out of competition, once for a month and another for nearly two months. But this year was going to be different. I was drawing good and riding good and was about to be on a good roll. In the most recent PRCA Press Release I was ranked 10th in the world; I’d just won the bull riding at Yuma, Colorado the day before. I had a decent bull at Sydney that day and then I had about 5 or 6 good ones in a row. It’s a time of the season that you can compete at two rodeos a day for nearly a month. So everything was shaping up for me to make my move…and who knows maybe end up among the top 5 in the world…and pretty much a guarantee to make the NFR.

My bull that day wasn’t one of the best ones but one that I might be able to place on. He was definitely one that I should ride considering the confidence that I was riding with at the time. Well, anyone that knows rodeo knows that ‘what ought to happen’…..rarely does! Lots of variables to deal with, to say the least. The bull bucked me off extremely awkward and I landed hard on my left shoulder, dislocating it. Game over! Season over! Career over! (I laid off for a month and entered a couple of rodeos but the shoulder was far from being stable enough for me to be competitive) Interestingly enough, exactly 5 years before…on August 12, at the same rodeo a bull had hit me in the right shoulder, tore the main ligament, requiring surgery and ending my season.

It sounds strange and probably doesn’t make sense to most but I had a tremendous sense of relief as I boarded my plane in Omaha the next day. An unfulfilled dream was hard to reconcile but the reality of knowing that I was going home to Julie and Clint, for good, sure did feel good. It has bothered me some down through the years that I didn’t make the NFR. It does feel good to have the respect of the guys I rode with and against….but I never regretted coming home to be a Husband and a Dad! 

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No Country For Old Men

That was a great movie in my opinion. I like about everything Tommy Lee Jones does, and Javier Bardem does a stellar job as the bad guy. If you haven’t seen it, you should. This blog is not about the movie. But “No Country For Old Men” seemed to be a great blog title to me after enduring about 6 minutes of the CMA Music Festival recently. Actually 6 minutes was about 4 more than I could take. I stayed hooked for 6 thinking it might get better. It didn’t.

I’m a music lover. I like all kinds of music. My iPod playlist includes a broad variety of everything from Blues, Soul, Rock, Tex-Mex, Jazz, Country, some Christian, very few Rap…. and even a little Classical. I can appreciate and artist’s craft no matter what kind of music they’re laying down. I don’t particularly like it all but I can appreciate it. I cut my teeth on Country. I was listening to it….and liking it since I was a little kid. In my folks vehicle the radio was always tuned to a Country station. When I started driving I bought an 8-track tape deck for $20 and mounted in the glove box of my dad’s pickup. My first 8-tracks were Hank Thompson, Johnny Cash, Charlie Walker and Waylon Jennings. Those are still to this day some of my all-time favorites. And if you want to get started on Country Music…those 4, any or all, would be a great place to start.

Nashville, in my opinion, has sold out. I wouldn’t argue that the stuff they’re putting out there today does sell. They’ve done a good job of marketing to younger and, in my opinion, less sophisticated listeners….and have ignored the ‘purists’…..the ‘real’ Country Music lovers. There are a few out there today who hold fast to the genuine. Jamey Johnson stands out, newcomer Chris Stapleton looks good out of the box. Dale Watson, who you’ve probably never heard of does the real thing. There’s a handful of artists still around who’ve got the goods. Alan Jackson and Dwight can still get ‘er done; No more George, Jones or Strait, Buck and Waylon are gone, but Willie and Merle are still out there gettin’ it done.

I guess my gripe is this; I can appreciate the talent of some of these young guys…although none of them are near as cool as they think they are. I can deal with their skinny, girly jeans (although I ain’t wearin’ em!) and I can tolerate their bad hats. I can even ignore the fact that they buy an acre or two, turn out a cow or a pig and call it a ranch. I do, however, think someone ought to tell ’em that pickups……ain’t trucks!

All I’m saying is this…..don’t call it Country Music…..when it ain’t!!

You don’t have to agree….it’s just my opinion….and you have a right to your own. And don’t waste your time trying to ‘set me straight’. It’s sad for the entire, so called, Country genre that there ain’t no more Hank’s, Lefty’s. ET’s, Faron Young’s, Webb Pierce’s or Ray Price’s coming up. Those guys songs will still be being played long after we’re all gone. The stuff you’re hearing today….listen up ’cause ain’t nobody gonna be playing it a year from now!

There’s No Country For Old Men!

**(Click on highlighted links to listen)

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25,000; Twenty-Five Thousand; 25K; 25 Large!

That’s how many “Views” I’ve received on my blog, “The Way I See It”, since January 1 (25,145 as of this post!). I’ve posted 130 times. Whoever you are, where ever you are….I appreciate you taking the time to read the blogs! It’s my deepest desire that the blog has blessed you in some way. Give me some feedback! What are your favorite blogs? Mention two or three that have helped you in some way. Hit the “Share” button on FaceBook so your FB friends can access the blog.

Listed below are the Top-Ten Blog Posts ranked by how many times they’ve been read. If you haven’t read them….do it now! If you have….you might want to read them again. I’ve also included a few that are some of my very favorite. *By clicking on the red link you can go straight to that blog. I’d like to grow the, “The Way I See It”, family so I’m asking you to “Share” when you like a post and recommend that your friends become “Followers”.

Lady Gaga, Little Monsters & Jesus!

All I Know is God Loved John Very, Very Much!

VIP #4 – Paul Luchsinger

VIP #1 – Booger Bryant

Quit Telling Me What the Problem Is!

Bless the Lloyd!

“Keith” – It Was a Short Friendship….But a Good One!

Branson to Cherokee – The Longest Night I Ever Spent

Maybe You Should Quit Whippin’ Your Own A#$!

You’re Not Welcome Here!

………..and a few of my very favorite ones.

“Obviously, I’m God’s Favorite”!

You May Not Know This, But I’m Kind of a Big Deal!

It Ain’t Grace’s Fault!

Tee-Ball…..The #1, Undisputed, Very Best Team Sport of ‘Em All!!

How Gunnar Payne Changed the World!

……….or if you just need a good laugh!

The ‘Baddest’ Dang Turkey in Arkansas!

That Whole, “Greet the Brethren With a Holy Kiss” Thing, is Waaay Overrated!!

Just Some Friendly Advice: Always Approach a Possum With Extreme Caution!!

Thanks again for reading the blogs!! Weigh in on your favorites and spread the word!!

THANKS!!   

AT

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Just Some Friendly Advice: Always Approach a Possum With Extreme Caution!!

About a year after we had moved from the ranch in Texas we were living in a nice place just 10 miles south of Cheyenne, Oklahoma. We had a big ‘ol Chow dog named “Buddy”. He wasn’t much count for anything except for barking non-stop if he heard or saw anything during the night. It had become pretty common for the possums to come up during the night and try to steal some of his dog food. He killed a couple of them and I imagine a couple dozen or more got some of his food and made their escape. That happened at least once a week. The big house we lived in had a nice, wrap-around porch all across the front and around one side. On the front porch we had a long church pew; it was about a 12 footer. His favorite thing was to get one of those possums hemmed up and bark at them until the fight happened or they, by chance, got away.

It was the middle of the summer and the yearly rodeo was going on in Cheyenne so we thought we ought to take in a night of it. We got home about 11 pm and got the kids put down and were just about to ‘hit the sack’ when ‘ol Buddy went to barking. It doesn’t take much of that to start wearing on my patience, you understand. I’m barefooted and in my underwear, (tighty-whiteys in those days…..I have since upgraded!). I grabbed a broom on the way out the door and it was just as I thought. He had him a possum down the porch at the end of the long church pew. Now, nobody likes possums; I guess they’re harmless but they’re just nasty if you ask me. My plan was to spook him off the porch with the broom and then let nature take it’s course.

I’m ticked off and yelling at ‘ol Buddy, who’s still barking furiously, as I neared the end of the church pew. Well…..when I got to the end of the pew and reared back to smack the varmint with my broom…..I finally got a good look at the possum. But, it wasn’t a possum!

Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a BADGER at point-blank range with all his teeth showing (it looked like a few dozen of ’em), slobberin’, hissin’….and ready to attack……with nothing but your underwear on or not! It was a first for me!! My whole life flashed in front of me! Instantaneously I had a vision of me being ripped to shreds by this maniac of an animal! He was On. The. Hook.!! I mean….have you ever heard a ‘good’ story about a badger?? Right! That’s ’cause there ain’t no good stories about ’em!! Every outrageous, horrifying thing I’d ever heard before about badgers somehow, at that moment, seemed really legit!

I bet you could still see my toe prints in the concrete on that porch where I skidded to a stop! In my mind I said, “If you’ll just give me one tenth of a second….I’ll be out of your life forever!” Well, fate happened to be on my side that night….thank the Lord! I have no idea what happened to the badger; don’t even care! I was just glad to get out of there with my life!

That was the last time I ever rambled down the porch with a broom! (I’m a quick learner!) And, just between you and me, I can’t remember if I ever wore those underwear again or not!

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