Posts Tagged ‘Brokeback Mountain

22
Jan
08

We Lost Jack. Now We’ve Lost Ennis.

jackandennis.jpg

My Mom just told me he was gone, and then I had to go to a meeting. I was in the hallway, and some brainless, soulless girl I work with approached, a spring in her step and a smile broad as a jack-o-lantern’s, saying, “Did you hear the news?”

I was hoping she’d heard something happy to offset what I’d heard. “Heath Ledger’s dead,” she said, breezing past.

And I just stood there, dazed, never having been a fan, and not needing any other reason to love him, and now to mourn him, than the fact that he was, and always will be Ennis del Mar – not to mention I’m fresh from the rodeo with Sam, my very own Ennis del Mar. The first time we saw the film, I saw Sam in Ennis right off, and he saw me in Jack; he even does a dead-on impression of Ennis. That film put the west into our psyche, was a big part of the earliest days of our relationship, and was (and is) a cinematic representation of the true and legendary love Sam and I have for each other. It always will be.

I’ve seen Brokeback Mountain all the way through only twice, because losing Jack was practically unbearable the first time. God knows when I’ll ever watch it again.

05
Jan
08

Cowboys on the Road

Sam and I are going to rodeo school in Chandler, AZ in two weeks, to learn chute dogging. We’re going with the clothes on our backs, our rough stock gear, and some supplies in a duffel bag. We need boots. Size 13 for Sam, and 11 for me. Ropers, which means a lower heel and a more rounded toe. We’ll be trying to find those this week. I’ll probably just roll the dice on some cheap, used boots from eBay. Once we’re in Phoenix, we’ve got a car rented – for $10 – some econo-box Kia or something, because there wasn’t any place to rent old pickups. If it weren’t illegal to hitchhike (the 11 miles from the airport to the center of Chandler), we would, just for the fantasy of jumping into the back of some old man’s blue F250 and gettin’ a ride into town. We asked the rodeo school coordinator, Chuck, if there were any bunks in some stable loft or anything for us to crash in, but alack, there were none. So, in the absence of a bunkhouse, we’re hoping to find some old neon cowboy hotel right out of Thelma & Louise or Brokeback Mountain, and check in for sway-backed mattresses, snowy TV, and some good ol’ fashioned cowboy sex.

Continue reading ‘Cowboys on the Road’




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