We Always Wanted to be Cowboys
This photo of me reminds me of all the fun we had playing cowboys and Indians when we were kids. Primed by all those Roy Rogers and Gene Autry movies, we played for hours riding our imaginary horses.
For the little ones, there were rocking horses, but for outside, we had stick horses with a sock head. If there was no stick horse, it was sufficient to hold one hand in front as though holding imaginary reins. Then we galloped about the yard urging our sure-footed horse faster and faster to escape the Indians or to capture the bad guys.
Back in the fifties, most kids had some cowboy attire to wear. Here’s my brother in his vest and chaps. Quite the little cowpoke, isn’t he. Years later when he returned from the Vietnam War, we saw the movie “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.” The grown up Owen looked a lot like Robert Redford in that movie.
I also had a cowboy hat. Add to that my holster and toy six-gun, I was the image of Annie Oakley or Dale Evans, at least in my mind. Of course, those heroines of western movies would have worn boots instead of white sandals with anklets.
You might think we are standing on an old-style television, but it must be a bedside table. We didn’t have a television until I was 13-years-old.
Here’s one more photo.