Essays From West of 98: American Idol Finale
Embracing the positive aspects of the cowboy ideal
“The myth of the cowboy grew purer every year because there were so few actual cowboys left to contradict it.”
—Larry McMurtry, 1989 (Preface to “In a Narrow Grave: Essays on Texas”
Why did I spend the last month winding my way through the story of the cowboy in film and literature? This wasn’t a self-indulgent opportunity to talk about some of my favorite fiction. Well, it wasn’t JUST that.
As I consider the concept of community, I have thought deeply about the forces and influences that shape that concept, particularly within the rural context. For reasons fairly evident, the American cowboy is unquestionably a heavy influence on rural community, rural people, and how we perceive ourselves and one another. As the late great Larry McMurtry observes in the quote above, it is all but impossible to distinguish myth from reality in cowboy lore. The idea of the cowboy began in truth, but the fiction of the cowboy began to influence the truth. Early cowboys like Wyatt Earp influenced cowboy film stars and filmmakers like Tom Mix and John Ford and their movies subsequently influenced generations of cowboys henceforth, and so on.
I am grateful that the cowboy has influenced our culture, but I am also troubled. There is much positive in the cowboy story, but our society has taken some of the wrong lessons from the cowboy story or perverted the mythology altogether to serve other purposes.
I do not set out to author a comprehensive list of these problems, because I have neither the space nor the qualifications to do so, but let’s start with familiar territory. In the character of Ethan Edwards in “The Searchers,” we see the vision of the rugged individualist, tough and alone. The concept of toughness is all well and good, but it can also be actively toxic to our relationships and our mental and physical health. Sayings like “cowboy up” can be perfectly positive when used correctly. There’s a spirit of persevering through adversity that we all need and that we should all learn from our forefathers on the frontier. It is not okay to use this spirit to encourage people to disregard their physical health (injured? “rub some dirt on it”) or mental health (“feelings are for sissies”). There is a direct through line between this mentality and people who end up with lifelong injuries at an early age or the disturbing rate of substance abuse and suicide in rural America, particularly among males and particularly when times get hard. Sometimes, cowboying up is not enough.
There’s also an old saying “all hat and no cattle” that is meant to describe someone who is more show than substance. Weirdly, it feels like this has become a manner in which people gatekeep the western lifestyle or rural life in general. If you don’t look the part, then there are some who do not take you seriously. There are men and women who epitomize the positive qualities of the frontier and either do not own a cowboy hat or could not care less about what their hat looks like. On the flip side, more than a few people have gotten elected to political office based on little more than their ability to look good in a hat (I’ll not name names).
In the fall of 2022, my friend Ed Roberson hosted “Stories From Around the Campfire,” a conversation with some of the finest members of the Cowboy Artists of America (you can find it on his Mountain and Prairie podcast feed). In that discussion, the great cowboy poet Red Steagall observed that society periodically gets tired of tinsel and shiny objects and wants to feel leather and oak wood again. He’s right. To those of us who appreciate the cowboy, we should do the same and focus on the real, authentic aspects of cowboy culture and not the distracting shiny aspects like looking good in a hat or toxic toughness.
It doesn’t matter what the cowboy looks like. It doesn’t matter whether the hat is worn by man or woman, not at all, or (gasp!) if the wrong type of hat is worn in the wrong season. Our substance defines us as humans. The substance of the cowboy is one of hard work, resolve in the face of adversity, taking care of ourselves and one another, and being a positive contributor to home and community.
May we remember that. Long live the cowboy!
James Decker is the Mayor of Stamford, Texas and the creator of the West of 98 website and podcast. Contact James and subscribe to these essays at westof98.substack.com and subscribe to West of 98 wherever podcasts are found.
In 2003, I was an EMT-Intermediate working for a rural municipal EMS north of Austin. I worked as a rodeo medic when off duty and worked a lot of FFA and other youth events. There were too many instances of youth being seriously injured, including concussions, where the parents - usually dad - refused the ER visit, proclaiming "COWBOY UP." In one dramatic case, the young man was slammed into the arena wall by a bull and lost conciousness. Thankfully, at least, he was wearing a helmet.
We now live in Northern Minnesota, on the "Iron Range," where there is a mix of "Cowboy Culture" and mining culture, even though most people are neither. There was a active cattle culture up here from the 1920's through the 1970's, there was a lot of "pasture" once the lumber barons slicked off the pines and there was a demand for beef to feed the miners, as well as hay for the horses that did much of the logging work into the 30's.
Up here, it is buffalo plaid flannels and lace-up boots, snowmobiles, atvs and fishing boats towed behind your pickup (that does no other hard work) at all times in season. And the toxic results are the same.
It is sad that "rugged individuals" fail to realize that alone they can not thrive, that takes community.