A Cowboy Named Buck

     Buck wasn't like the other cowboys. Well, Buck wasn't like anyone I've met before. I first met Buck in a small town in the great state of Wyoming. South Pass, I think it was called. The annual circus event, which excited and mesmerized the town people on a yearly basis, had just left town. The place felt as empty as the town drunk's whiskey glass. I walked into the local saloon, and I saw Buck sitting at the bar by himself. We had stayed up late the night before, enjoying the festivities. Buck was looking real miserable, and he was laying his head on the never-cleaned counter. This was strange to me. It couldn't have been a hangover, for he  hadn't touched a drink the night before. I approached him cautiously, as you always did when dealing with Buck.

     "Heya, Buck," I said as I sat down in the chair next to him, "what's eating ya? You look like you lost your best friend."

     He lifted his head, and stared into my eyes the way only Buck could. "Well," he muttered, peering into his drink, "I did. They can't find my 'pa, he's been missing since last night. Probably deader than the dodo by now."

     I looked at Buck. For the first time in my life, I saw tears streaming down his face. Buck wasn't the one to cry, usually making other's cry instead. I knew this must've been hard on him.

Cell-Fishness

A recent survey by Retrevo found that “10 per cent of people under age 25 [don’t] see anything wrong with texting during sex.” While this may seem crazy and foreign to many of the older generation, statistics such as this have become the norm amongst younger people. “Public Display of Disaffection,” an etiquette article written by Anne Kingston and Anne Ballingall in Maclean’s Magazine, states that public cell phone use, or “cell-fishness,” is becoming much worse, “given how high awareness is.” Using both expert and anecdotal evidence throughout the story, the editorial critiques the ever-growing use of cell phones during conversations, dinners, and yes, even sex. Pamela Eyring, the director of the Protocol School of Washington, claims that there are “four stages of Blackberry abandonment.” When the person you are trying to converse with pulls out a mobile device and drifts into their own, apparently much more interesting, world, the other feels confused at first, then “discomfort[ed], irritat[ed], and then…outrage[d].” The article concludes with tales of restaurants, theatres, fast-food outlets, and pharmacies slamming down on cell phone use in their businesses. Although some just tell the customers to “turn their ringers off, it’s a start.”

            Whilst reading the article, I couldn’t help but to feel uncomfortable. After all, I have committed many of these acts of “cell-fishness.” In a world where technology is becoming evermore important, it becomes more and more difficult not to look at my cell phone to check my Facebook, texts, or whatever social media outlet is being used when  this is being read. But, with great power comes great responsibility. As kids, we haven’t quite realized how important face-to-face conversation is. The most important thing you can give someone, is your time. But, as the article explains, cell phones have ”upend[ed] traditional rules of etiquette…it connects far-flung virtual communities and irritates the person standing next to you.” All in all, Kingston and Ballingall hit the head on the nail in this article.

Synthesizers

     "Other princes have made it through my forest," Alice Major muses in her poem puce fairy book, in response to her boyfriends wish of "a lady...[with] no rings on her fingers...never been kissed." Jane Callwood, grandmother of three and author of Forget Prince Charming, agrees. "Successful mating has little to do with finding Prince Charming," she writes, "who in my experience frequently is a narcissistic dope." In both their writings, they discuss the notion of a "perfect mate" or a "one true prince" in a relationship.Although from two different backgrounds, and assessing the situation from two different points of views, they tend to agree on this topic, mostly.

     In Major's poem, she reflects on a past relationship, which fell apart due to her boyfriend's unrealistic expectations of her. In her eyes, he wanted "Rapunzel waiting in a tower," or "a lady sleeping in a garden...[who has] never been kissed." In the end, she rejects these fairy-tale designs of a relationship, stating that she "declines...the honor of cutting off my toe." This, of course, alludes to Cinderella, and her perfectly fitting glass slipper. She tried her best, metaphorically "piling up mattresses to cushion you," but alas, he is bruised by the "small nub...that is no fairytale." But it was all futile because, unlike Rapunzel, her "hair would never grow long enough."

    
     Callwood, whose three "granddaughters are of  marriageable age," tells them "that they cannot expect perfection" in their relationships. She speaks of compromise being "the same glue that holds our peculiar country together." She believes things such as humour, punctuality, integrity, and honesty are what's really important in long-term relationships.

      Generally speaking, it is safe to assume that Callwood and Major have the same beliefs when dealing with relationships. They both agree that a perfect relationship is not attainable. Each partner will have faults, and they will disagree on a lot of topics. Callwood states that "happily married couples make concessions to one another's peculiarities all the time." No man or woman should go into a relationship expecting perfection on every level, but rather compatibility and good character. Then maybe they will live happily ever after.