Independence day has decended upon Steamboat and the invasion has left the town smothered in a red, white and blue gravy. Some of the tastier chunks in this stew include overhead explosions, rodeos and the occasional cowboy wearing an American Flag with pearl snaps for buttons. Wrapped like a patriotic Chipotle burrito, these cowboys have started to gather in numbers, and I wonder if there is going to be a second wave to this invasion? Are they coming to wrap me up in Old Glory?

There was one Patriotic trooper last night checking himself out in a window as we both waited in line for some late night sustenance. I love catching people in this vulnerable moment. His shirt was tight and bulgy like a tarp around a motorcycle; quick pointy in parts. The stars and stripes had been disassembled and fabricated into what appeared to be a stylish shirt for such occasions in such places. Wranglers created the foundation to this masterful ensemble and his lady friend smelled of diesel exhaust. The pair fit together like beer and rodeos, but at that particular moment, when my voyeuristic tendencies kicked in, he was alone in an assailable moment. He started near the top of his reflection looking for anything out of place. Hat straight, Check. Collar down, check.  Belt buckle big and shinny, check. Wranglers too tight, check. Boots pointy, check. Everything was in its right place as his eyes began to drift towards the menu. There was a line that appeared to interest him, extra bacon-two dollars. I pegged him as a carnivore but you don’t want to jump to conclusions in this day and age. I didn’t see any remnants of an omnivore’s life style in his handle bar mustache, but then again he could just be hygienic. “Bacon Cheeseburger, extra bacon . . . honey what you want?” His wife was standing behind me at this point and his honey comment caught me off guard as his gaze was sent in my general direction. She wanted more of the same. I finally had my chance to order and my scrumptious salad wrap probably matched my artsy glasses just as his bacon cheesburger paired well with tight wranglers. We were stereotypes dancing for a moment.

I am off to a bar-b-q and a fireworks display. I have already eaten two hotdogs, red white and blue pancakes, a root beer float and all the other edible treats you might find around the fourth of July. I particularly enjoyed the deviled eggs, but who doesn’t.

Drew

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