Tag Archives: horse

Goes To War

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Goes To War is a photograph taken at a parade at one of the Powwows held throughout the year. The original version of this image was filled with extraneous detail, people, vehicles, downtown street scene detail, everything that goes into creating an image you just want to delete that made the picture just another snapshot taken at a parade.

One of the things a photographer tries to do is see inside an image like that and look for the story or reason for taking the image in the first place. There needs to be a story, at least for this photographer. In this case the shot of a parade participant already past the point where you would normally take the photo suggested that this could be a warrior who is headed off to war. He has his bow, his quiver filled with arrows, his coup stick, his horse is fitted out for battle, he’s ready for whatever fate presents him. The only difference between this image and the original shot is about a hundred and fifty years. And some imagination.

After over four plus hours of editing in various photo editing software a new image appeared. Now he makes sense. There’s a reason for him being presented with his back to the viewer. Not all photography and the pictures taken have to be unflinchingly reality oriented. It’s up to the photographer to decide how he wants to present the information concealed in all those pixels. Some call it art but that’s for you to decide.

For me it’s another reality, one that could have happened. Does it matter whether it did or not. Not to me. Your mileage may vary.

Considerin’ Slitherin’

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EbeneezerSqueezer1919

If snakes were people this one would be a combination of Leon Redbone and Tom Waits. Cool, but in a mean, slick kind of way. Somebody you’d like to watch do his thing, but from way across the bar. And the waitresses, the ones that will serve him anyway, they all call him Tongue. Just because. This guy exudes menace like a cheap cologne.

If snakes wore shirts he’d have a straight razor hanging down inside his collar, and you’d want to watch close if he put his hand up to the back of his neck. He isn’t scratching, he’s reaching. Somebody’s going to get cut.

Here in New Orleans, just outside the 9th ward, there’s a bar, the one just off St Claude Ave. The one with the sign that hasn’t had working neon since 1946. The one with the broken juke box they don’t need to fix because there’s a kid there that will sing every blues tune you know for a quarter a throw. The one where if anyone got bit or squeezed real bad no one would say a word, because no one saw a thing. It has a spot at the end of the mahogany that no one will sit at whether he’s there or not. Even the most foolhardy tourist instinctively knows that’s no man’s land. That’s his bar and everybody is ok with that. They don’t go there if they aren’t, it’s bad joss and he can smell that on you.

Lots of snakes have chosen garish multi-colored skins, neon colored, they’d flash Vegas style if they could. But Big Billy Coils, that’s his given name, William Coils, but everyone who knew him by that is pretty much gone now. Victims of fights, booze, unpaid debts, horse, neglect and poor judgment. He’s found the colors that work for him. He’s leaving all the rainbow stuff to the wannabees, this look gets done whatever he wants done. He just stopped in tonight to check out the crowd. He hasn’t eaten in about 3½ weeks and he’s hungry. He’s off towards Algiers to see what might be hanging around the docks so he’s considerin’ slitherin’. I’d put off any late night strolls along the river tonight. Best you stick to the brightly lit streets.

Back To The Classics

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This post has been moved to OpenChutes.com. All future postings of Powwows, Indian Relay Races, Rodeos and Rendezvous will be posted there from now on exclusively. So if you’re looking for new images and posts for all those events attended this year, plus all the old posts posted on BigShotsNow.com check out OpenChutes.com. See you there!

SaddleBronc4790

Saddle bronc riding. This is the event that started rodeos.  Back in the old days which is anything before 1950, before Volkswagen Jetta’s and Prius’, the only way a cowboy could get to work was to either, A: Walk, or B: Ride a horse. ‘A’ was simply not an option as cowboys don’t walk. They can’t. They wear special footwear called Cowboy boots with a tall heel that make it almost physically impossible to walk more than 50′ before they fall down on the ground grabbing their legs yelling “OMG, I can’t walk! My legs! My legs!. Somebody help me, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” That’s where option ‘B’ comes in. Ride a horse.

Back then that was problematic because horses didn’t like to be ridden. They still don’t for the most part. Ask any horse that’s been out on grass for a month or two if it would really like to ridden and they will almost always answer “No, thanks, I’m good.” You can’t blame them really, it’s hot out usually, and where you got to go to work is way out there in the toolies where Haysoose lost his Ray-Bans, the saddle blanket is itchy, the saddle is heavy, not counting the cowboy that wants to sit on it, they stick a big old metal bit in your mouth so they can yank you all over the place, they want you to run around chasing after things, you got to work everyday, all day, with never a day off, so the horse usually just said “No” when asked to cooperate.

Cowboys hate to hear “No” so right away there was a problem. Faced with having to walk, and the resulting rolling around on the ground yelling and the embarrassment and all, they decided that they were going to convince the horse to help out, to do its part willingly. And there it was, the birth of the rodeo event, Saddle bronc riding.

You can see everything there is to know about Saddle bronc riding by looking at the image above. They put a saddle on the horse, no small feat in itself when the horse doesn’t want you to, they climb on and they ask the horse politely to cooperate. The horse usually declines and the resulting melee is what you see here. Sometimes the cowboy convinces the horse, other times the horse convinces the cowboy that he should ask another horse. Eventually though a compromise is reached.

This entire learning to cooperate with each other was so entertaining to bystanders, especially those who didn’t have to convince the horse it should be ridden, that soon cowboys and the spectators were getting together on a Sunday afternoon and doing this whole process for fun. The enjoyment spread and soon cowboy and horse were doing this all over the place. Out in the corrals, inside barns so they could get out of the sun, traveling around to different cities where some folks would pay money to see the process at work. They named these events rodeos and the rest is history. It became hugely successful and drew folks from every walk of life to watch Saddle bronc riding and other western activities, drink beer from paper cups, tell each other that they could do that if they had to, and watch cowgirls in tight jeans walk around the grandstands.

Now some of these cowboys and their horses don’t even do a job of work any more. They just drive from rodeo to rodeo in great big dually trucks pulling a 3 axle horse trailer behind them winning huge amounts of cash money for staying on their respective horses for 8 seconds. It ‘s become big business with all the resulting industries, like tight western jeans makers, silver belt buckle construction, cowboy boot makers, sno-cone machine builders, beer brewers, horse whisperers, cowboy whisperers, judges who never make mistakes like football referees do, great big humongous Jumbotron TV screen builders to see instant replays and scores, the list is endless.

Yeah the bull riding is exciting and all the other events show you the skills cowboys need to get their work done but at the heart of it all is the classic event, the one that made all this hoopla possible, Saddle Bronc riding. If you get a chance go see it at a rodeo near you. It’s worth the price of a ticket.