Howdy, pardner!
A musical theme for this image is provided here, but minimize the window if you pull up the link, as the video portion of it has no connection whatsoever with the picture. :-)
I attended the Arabian horse show in Scottsdale, Arizona, along with my wife and kids. In a large tent on the site, various kinds of horse-related merchandise were displayed for sale by vendors, and at one such location I came across some cowboy hats. I tried several of them on and took some self-portraits in the mirror. Finally, one of the vendors offered to take a picture for me, and she got two shots after I gave her a brief lesson on the operation of the Nikon D50. She recommended that I try on a black hat, and I said that made sense to me, because in the B-grade westerns produced during the 1940s and 1950s, the bad guy nearly always wore a black hat, and -- well, in my case I just thought that sort of seemed appropriate. I struck this pose for her, and for a moment fantasized about being something other than the city-slicker I always have been, and always will be. Although I like cowboy hats, I know I look sort of ridiculous wearing them, so I don't, except on rare occasions such as this one.
My son Colin saw this on the LCD screen of my camera and said something about a nicotine-free version of the Marlboro man. :-)
Howdy, pardner!
A musical theme for this image is provided here, but minimize the window if you pull up the link, as the video portion of it has no connection whatsoever with the picture. :-)
I attended the Arabian horse show in Scottsdale, Arizona, along with my wife and kids. In a large tent on the site, various kinds of horse-related merchandise were displayed for sale by vendors, and at one such location I came across some cowboy hats. I tried several of them on and took some self-portraits in the mirror. Finally, one of the vendors offered to take a picture for me, and she got two shots after I gave her a brief lesson on the operation of the Nikon D50. She recommended that I try on a black hat, and I said that made sense to me, because in the B-grade westerns produced during the 1940s and 1950s, the bad guy nearly always wore a black hat, and -- well, in my case I just thought that sort of seemed appropriate. I struck this pose for her, and for a moment fantasized about being something other than the city-slicker I always have been, and always will be. Although I like cowboy hats, I know I look sort of ridiculous wearing them, so I don't, except on rare occasions such as this one.
My son Colin saw this on the LCD screen of my camera and said something about a nicotine-free version of the Marlboro man. :-)