Welcome to Following the Whispers blog
Thank you so much for taking the time to visit. Hope you enjoy your stay. I blog here whenever I feel the need. This blog was created at the time my memoir came out, in February, 2009. Its motto was: creating a life of inner peace and self-acceptance from the depths of despair. Now, my focus is sharing this journey we call life.
“Only one thing is more frightening than speaking your truth, and that is not speaking it.” Naomi Wolf
“We are called human beings, not human doings.” Wes Nisker, Buddhist teacher
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs…(And) if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.” Theodore Roosevelt
Monday, September 22, 2014
Monday Musings: "I might as well be in India"
Well, two weeks ago my hubby informed me she was going to sing at our State Fair and asked if I wanted to go. I did. He came home the next day with tickets. What I didn't know is that her concert was after the rodeo. I am a city girl. Grew up in NY. I've never been to a rodeo.
Friday night we went to the Fair early so we could walk around before the rodeo began at 7 pm. The highlight for me was getting to pet a 2-week-old duck and a big ole steer. There was a great band playing near the food court, covering songs like "Play That Funky Music White Boy." It got me out of my funk.
We arrive at the rodeo arena. Everyone is dressed in western clothes, except us. Well, we both wore jeans and blue shirts, but I don't think jeans are considered western. I've never seen so many cowboy hats in one place. And the cowgirls wore sparkly shirts and tons of make up. There was hee-hawing and words and language I did not know.
I didn't mind the events - although I think riding a bucking bronco or a bucking bull is insane and I don't know how the cowboy's backs don't get broken. The one event I couldn't watch was the rope tie. It seems like when the rope went around the cow's neck and it is jerked down to the ground, well, that's gotta hurt. I was rooting for the cows.
I turned to hubby at one point and said, "I might as well be in India, this is so culturally different from anything I've experienced." Hubby laughed.
The saddest part was not being able to stay for Danielle's concert. The music was so loud - and listen people, I'm a child of the 60s. I grew up with loud rock 'n roll and love it. This was so loud it hurt my ears. I couldn't enjoy the music. After two songs, we left. Am I just getting too old?