Enjoying Life’s Bumpy Ride

“Let me tell you a tale and a good one I hope,” Chris LeDoux sings in the background as I contemplate my past, present, and future.

Chris battled cancer and hearing him sing a version of my dad’s favorite song, “Strawberry Roan,” brings my memory back. I lost my dad to cancer a few years ago.

Though I don’t think the song was ever meant to be a metaphor for life, he says a lot about the ride we are all on.

“I was hangin’ ‘round town, just spendin’ my time,” when someone offered a challenge, a job, ride the horse called Old Strawberry.

We all have an Old Strawberry to ride. Dad had his and he rode it with honor. He was a hardworking, honest cowboy, United States Marine, a man of unquestionable integrity. His word was gold and he would give the shirt off his back if you were in need.

Whenever he got bucked off, he would brush off the dust, figure out what he did wrong and climb back into the saddle. He wasn’t afraid to admit when he was wrong, but he would never give up.

Characters I wish we could find in more people today.

For dad, an honest day’s work started before the sun came up and ended long after it had slipped behind that western horizon.

He didn’t have a Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter accounts on his ride. I don’t think he even knew what those were, nor did he care.

I remember every morning dad would come in for breakfast. He’d been up for a while and before coming in, he’d walk up to the mailbox, grab the paper and bring it in. I’d take the sports section or the comics first as he read the front section. Then he’d give me the front section.

That was my first taste of this newspaper world, the social media of the day. I loved seeing Rick Myers’ photography and there was always Bill Snocker’s challenging editorial cartoons. I don’t remember any of the reporters, but the editorial cartoons gave me a love for the editorial page and Rick’s great photos made me want to become a photojournalist.

There was no internet, videos or social media, just the printed paper.

Dad enjoyed reading it; the news, the sports and he passed that on to his oldest son. One of the many things he passed on during his ride.

He always loved reading anything I wrote, good, bad or indifferent. He didn’t always agree with my columns. He was the critic I most respected; the critic I miss the most today.

After he died, I was surprised to find so many clippings of his son’s writings he had cut out and kept.

As I write this column, I know his ride on that Strawberry Roan was not easy. He experienced good times and bad, lost a wife, fought day and night to keep the farm afloat and raise three, often times, rebellious sons.

I also know he wouldn’t have traded his ride aboard that old Strawberry Roan for anything.

That old Strawberry Roan is just as tough today as he was back then. He’s a horse we all slip down on and hold on for dear life every day. We can pack our bags and give up or like my dad, we can keep climbing aboard the old caballo.

He’ll turn on a nickel, hit on all fours and then go up on high. As for you, he’ll leave you spinnin’ up there in the sky, before you come down hard to give the earth a big kiss. But the ride is well worth the dirt we have to eat along the way.

He rode his Strawberry Roan, but in the end Old Strawberry was able to throw him. He had a great ride – a ride that touched this wannabe cowboy who is riding his own Strawberry Roan today. Like dad, I’ll hold my head high and if the old roan throws me to the ground, time and time again, I’ll cowboy up, climb back on and enjoy the ride.