It's calf season!
Okay, I might mean something different here than you would think. I'm talking about guys wearing shorts, and thereby baring their calves. Hello, legs! Jokingly, I made this observation on Twitter and Facebook as well, and it triggered a comment from Dale Chase of how - for a brief moment - I almost sounded cowboy.
It reminded me of two things. One, when I was in Calgary once I was dared to wear the full cowboy outfit (even boots and chaps and hat and so forth) by a pal, and to both of our stunned surprise, I actually rocked that look. I'm tall and lanky and the layers and various bits of hide made me look wider and - laughably - tougher. At least until I spoke, then the illusion was shattered.
Still, it was fun to walk around and have people stare in a "not laugh at" way.
Two, I just read the tale from Dale Chase's cowboy erotica anthology that shares its name with the collection as a whole.
"Crack Shot," by Dale Chase
This is the title of both the story and the e-book anthology as a whole. The set-up is simple enough: a man who hooked up with the wrong sort of man on his way into town, and faces off against a lawman who is - by all counts - a crack shot. Anyone staring down his gun, the young man is told, is doomed.
So why did the lawman just graze his shoulder instead of taking him down?
The reasons - and the tangle of emotions tied between the two men, the law, and what might be justice - is a lovely and complicated mess set so seamlessly with the western setting that Chase does so damn well. That's something I keep saying (because it's true) but in this particular story, the idea of the lawman and this small frontier town is so integral to the story that it wouldn't have worked any other way. I love when the setting is so vital to the telling of the tale.
And, of course, who doesn't love a cowboy?