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Ahmad: A new resident learns the ropes of Beef Empire Days
Published 6/8/2009 in Beef Empire Days : Columns
I can't wait until next year when I get to say, "Remember last year, when..." and "Is this your first Beef Empire Days?"
Instead, some serious flubs over the last few weeks have got me laughing lightheartedly. I hope imparting some of these mistakes will absolve me of any sins.
Mistake No. 1: While chatting up lunch-goers at the Roto-Mix Cattlemen's Steak Cookout (I was reporting on the event), I couldn't hide the fact that I didn't have a plate.
"Why don't you try the steak for yourself? Go get a plate," some of the cowboys and cattle producers I was seated with at the fairgrounds requested.
"Oh, actually, no, I don't eat meat anymore. I became a vegetarian about a year ago," I sheepishly replied -- sheepish because instantly I knew the information wouldn't go down as well as the meat. After a few hearty laughs at my expense, my tablemates tried to help out.
"Uh, maybe you should just tell people you're feeling sick," they advised.
Mistake No. 2: During the night of the ranch rodeo, I found myself still at work in the evening and headed to the fairgrounds in a pencil skirt and ballet flats.
If the weird looks weren't enough while I tried to talk to feedyard cowboys on horseback, I even got a reprimand from a coworker.
"You should probably think about dressing down next time," one the Telegram's photographers said and laughed.
I didn't need the cue: The horse manure on my bare ankles taunted me all the way home.
Mistake No. 3: For what it's worth, I did try: In an effort to fit in, I raided the shoe aisle at a local department store. (Mistake No. 4: I should have shopped at Baker Boot Co.) Instead of helping me dress down, the clean fringe on my new kicks made me feel more like a "dressed-up" fool than one of the crowd.
"Hey, you can call them your rodeo queen boots," a colleague said with the best of intentions.
So in between asking cowboys silly questions and going hungry at every event I've covered Beef Empire Days has had its ups and downs.
Despite my ways, I can't help but admit that there's a growing soft spot in my heart in being a part of this grand adventure and the beef heritage my neighbors and friends take pride in.
In addition, after this weekend's parade, I had the opportunity to take an intimate tour inside the Windsor Hotel.
Grainy black and white photos I picked up from a tourist brochure were replaced on Saturday by winding staircases, beautiful mahogany doors and a sky-lit atrium which houses much of the Garden City's history, rooted in the cattle industry.
"The men would sit in this grand lobby, doing what men do best: gambling and making cattle deals," my tour guide explained, adding that women were excluded from these business matters and hidden away in the hotel's parlor.
The hotel parlor? I thought. My majestic surrounding began to drift my thoughts back to a time when I'd find myself embroidering away the day. But then historical accuracy caught up with me: I'd probably be lucky to be in the laundry room!
Next year, things will be different. I'll ride with the cowboys and grade the cattle with stunning foresight and accuracy. But until then, only friends from out of state -- far removed from the this cattle corner of the world -- can comfort me.
They've got some more comforting to do because here's mistake No. 5: publicly mentioning my vegetarian pursuits in mistake No. 1.
Staff writer Shajia Ahmad can be e-mailed at sahmad@gctelegram.com.
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