My friend Terra and I went to a place in Cave Creek tonight called … dang it, I can’t remember.  But it is a cowboy bar that has real professional bull riding and live country bands on Friday nights.  Not my normal type of place to hang out.  It was Terra’s suggestion.  Smart girl…:-)

The place was filled with tight Wrangler jeans (we decided that this was not a good idea for ANY man) and cowboy hats.   We both probably looked a little out of place, but we discovered something tonight.  The people here were the real deal.  Genuine and authentic.  They were just here to have fun together.  No pretense.  No pressure.  There was no sense of competition or need to impress.  It was refreshing. I had this silly grin on my face, just  watching other people’s fun – the place where they could truly be themselves.  All just being who they really were. 

I don’t have cowboy boots or a hat.  My jeans aren’t Wranglers and I don’t own a huge belt buckle.  I have no idea how to line dance and can barely ride a horse. But as I sat eating  my bbq beef and baked beans on my paper plate with my plastic fork, I realized that I  felt completely at home there.  It was the REAL factor.  My passion played out. 

Terra and I left with smiles on our faces as we headed back to the “real” world.   Or more accurately,  the “not so real” world.  We had just left a place with its own type of magic.  Where real was the entire atmosphere.  And it felt good.

So, I will still probably choose flip flops over boots, Levi’s over Wranglers and tank tops over cowboy shirts.  But I will always feel at home in a place down the street, whose name I still can’t remember.  Where you can dance whether you know how to or not.  Where you can eat under the stars while watching bull riding.  Where the smell of manure permeates the air and is somehow refreshing.  Yeehaw!