Heroes
October 18, 2000 My heroes haven’t always been cowboys. Growing up my heroine was Queen Elizabeth because my mother, not necessarily in a kindly way, would call me “Queen Elizabeth.” She was referring to my autocratic behavior but I, ever the optimist, took it as a compliment and marched on towards the throne I felt entitled to. One day I read that she (the queen, not my mom) trained herself to remain calm even if a gun went off behind her. This took imagination since my father didn’t hunt and there were no guns within miles of our Denver address. However, I pretended, fervently, and to this day, I think I’m pretty ready for an assassination attempt. My other hero was Roy Rogers. I have to say, not Dale. I liked Dale, I thought she was a good woman, but Roy, Roy was The Hero. I had that great Roy Rogers holster set with the leather fringe on the holsters. And the smell of fired caps! I LOVE the smell of fired caps! And horses—the golden Palomino Trigger. I agree with Roy about stuffin