Ask the Hat

Howdy friends and neighbors.  Yep, I took last week off.  I don’t know why other than it was a time change thing…  So, let’s get after it!

 I can’t believe that I am coming up on my fourth year of writing this weekly mess!  Time flies when you are talking cows and politicians.  It is amazing to me how far the little dare has gone.  My column runs in many newspapers and I have an e-mail list that keeps growing.  I have had a few speaking engagements, had a couple of featured stories written in magazines about me, and have been a guest on a couple of radio talk shows.  Fun, fun, lots of fun.  It seems that common sense and rural humor is still in demand.  So, I have decided to give something back to my readers.

 A friend recommended a while back that I consider a new venture in my  writing and after many sleepless nights (well, a good thirty minutes anyway) and consulting with my cow dog; I think I will give it a trial run.  What is it, you ask?  Well I am going to start an “Ask the Hat” section where you the reader can ask the really tough questions about proper boot scraping etiquette,  just how far below the engine oil mark on a dip stick can the oil be and a twenty year-old truck still run, how best to retrieve a lariat rope that is snug on a wild cow who is in the middle of a pond,  how barn cats multiply and subtract,  how long should one let a frost-free faucet drip before attempting repair, the best low-cost electric fence removal technique and what is the ideal cup in which to dip Oreo cookies.  From curing foot rot on an alpaca to blindness in pigeons to how to make an ugly boar attractive, it’s a reader’s choice.  Ask the hat questions like “what moon phase is best for scooping out grain bins?”  Feel free to ask about the weather, the markets, politics, Einstein’s theory on relativity or how to keep ALL your trailer lights working.  I’ll give you an answer, it’s up to you if you like it or not. My hat and I will do this for a while and see where it leads.  Disclaimer— If you actually take my hat’s (an inanimate object) advice or opinion, don’t plan on a lawsuit, the hat is as broke as I am.  If you do decide to sue, I will just give you the Hat, and its lawyer!  This section is for pure entertainment, just like congress.

 The questions above are simply examples.  Send in anything you wish to ask the hat.  Ask away.  Just e-mail your most perplexing or simple questions to monte@whatsundermyhat.com and I will select one or more to answer in my next article.  Please keep your questions brief and to the point.

 So send in those questions, my hat is hanging by.

 I’m Monte Tucker, getting desperate for something to write about.

Backwards

Howdy friends and neighbors.  I’m going to be quick this time; my two wild cows are due in from Las Cowages on the next 27 passenger Travelong goose-neck trailer.

 

Last weekend a friend of mine caught on camera what I consider to be wrong with politics as a whole.  He caught some really great shots.   These photos represent exactly what career politicians are all about.  Appearance; telling us what they think we want to hear, and as authentic as a shovel full of the stuff stuck to the bottom of the livestock trailer mentioned above.

“Cowport”

Howdy friends and neighbors.  Have you ever been to an airport?  I have noticed that a common thread among all who travel like a bird is that they must inquire as soon as possible what kind of plane they are getting on.  You know, is it a Boeing 777 or a crop duster?  Like the size of the plane is going to make the whole travel experience any better.  I have no clue where this thought came from because I haven’t been to an airport lately nor am I planning on going anywhere.  It just popped into my head the other day as I was loading out a set of heifers.

 I wonder, (forgive me for wasting a few minutes of your time by going here…) if cattle do the same thing when they go to or from a sale barn, pasture, feedlot, or beyond.  I can just hear them saying as they follow the rancher’s feed bucket into the corral:

 “Gee Marge, I wonder if we are getting a 52 foot, punch side Barrett Gold Series aluminum pot?”  

 “No, Tess.  Tight-wad farmer Brown is over there hooking up that ‘68 year model open-top, 16 foot, FFA shop-built sardine can puddle-jumper.” 

“Well, doesn’t that just put knots in your tail?” 

 “Oh, but look at these tickets, we have a connection at Elk Livestock.  There is a good chance we will get a double-decker out of there.” 

 “Oh, goody Tess!”  

 “Or, there is good chance we could get one of those super-fast 24 by 8’s with full top and running lights.” 

 “You’re right! Oh, I hope it’s a quick-connecting ride!” 

“Yeah, I hope we don’t get dusted in and have to spend the night in the cross alley.”

 Of course, the big time, big shots get the private trailers.  The pure-bred elite get the Gulf Stream equivalent as they travel in enclosed, air-ride private trailers with plush wood shavings and a place to lie down.  They travel complete with three-coarse meals and the finest of waters. 

 The pee-ons are literally pee-ons as they travel coach where it is crowded, noisy and there’s only one big open bathroom.  There are the three bawler calves across the divider gate that just keep bawling and carrying on.  There is a fat bull with his tail on your rail and 6-year old silage on his breath.  Then there are two old cows that should really keep their stories about roaming the bucking bull pastures to themselves.  “What goes on in Las Cowages, stays in Las Cowages!”  They’ve even got tattoos!  A big 1+ on their hip.

 I’m Monte Tucker, wondering how all that got under my hat???  You just never know! 

 Another random thought, if I ever buy a sale barn, I’m going to name it “Cowport.”

Nobel Peace Prize???????

Howdy friends and neighbors.  The Nobel Peace Prize?????????????   Ha, haaa, hhhhaaaa, ha, ha, haaaa!  Oh, Ha, ha, ha, haa.  No quit it! Ha, haahaaa, ha.  Oh my, that is just too funny!  What’s next?  Are they going to give me the Pulitzer Prize?  Ahhh, HA, HA, HA, HA!  No, wait!  They are going to give Dick Chaney the Eddie Eagle Gun Safety Award….   Oh, I got another one.  Mothers Against Drunk Driving are going to make the late Ted Kennedy an honorary member.  Oh, no how about this one?  Nancy Pelosi wins Miss America.  HA, ha, ha…..Barney Frank is a front runner for the Heisman Trophy!!!

Cash Cattle

Howdy friends and neighbors, and howdy fall!  Where is that coat that I took off last spring???  Is the heat lamp working in the well house?  Who has the best price on anti-freeze?  Oh well, I’ll worry about all that stuff the night before it really gets cold.  I figure I still have a month or so left.

 

Let’s talk cattle markets for a spell.  Now I don’t want to loose my readers that could care less about cattle markets but I made an executive decision to go there instead of offending some folks by writing about our self-appointed messiah president that proved last week that he his no Greek god.  He and the first gripper had to hop back on that carbon belching Air Force One and warm the planet as they headed back state-side with their excuses for not getting their rich buddies big paying Olympic jobs.  Oh well, back to screwing up health care beyond what it is now.

Skunk Whisperer

 Howdy friends and neighbors.  Oh man, we have been busy sowing wheat, weaning calves and praying for rain.  What??  Praying for rain?  Yeah, we’re dry as usual while the rest of the state gripes about being too wet.  That’s life out here next to the one-hundredth meridian.

 Someone needs to contact the Animal Planet TV network.  I have discovered that I’m a skunk whisperer.  The other day while I was having one of those days; I had a small gas engine quit on the grain cart I use to transfer wheat from the bin to my grain drill.  So, my options were to get a bucket and a scoop shovel or rob another 6 horse power engine off of a small cattle sprayer I had.  So, I looked at the scoop, started to dial my wife on my “more bars, more places hip phone,” and decided to rob the other engine instead.  It was in my Grandmothers barn so off I went with a 9/16 and a ½ inch wrench to avoid having to ask my wife to scoop wheat seed thus saving my marriage while decommissioning my sprayer.  There is probably a Proverb that says something like “unwise man should not ask loving wife to scoop wheat.”  That would be the western Oklahoma farmer/rancher translation.  

 Anyhow, I was fully concentrating on a ½ inch nut that was at that point where it was too loose for a ratchet but too tight for fingers.  You gear heads know what I’m talking about.  It’s some kind of bolt and nut utopia where they get to laugh while we go back and forth from wrench to fingers to pliers and then back to the wrench.  Plus, they always occur in tight, hard to reach places.

 So there I was, bent over in a semi-dark barn hallway, swatting mosquitoes and telling this bolt how much I didn’t like it when I came face to face with ole Pepé Le Pew.  This skunk snuck up behind me while I was totally involved with the Briggs and Stratton.  As I turned, our eyes met.  He was about six feet from me.  I just started whispering “don’t you spray, don’t you dare spray!”  That little stinker looked at me for about half a day, or 4 to 5 seconds, nodded his head up and down and then went on his way!  I was literally just feet from needing a bath in tomato juice when that varmint decided he better go one his way.  When Pepé was at a safe distance I made a dash for the truck to search for a gun.  I was in my dad’s work pickup so after I dug and pulled out from behind the seat three coats, four old Penny News papers, a roll of paper towels, an electric fence tester that doesn’t work, 30 feet of nylon lariat rope, a wore out Feist Area Wide phone book, a roll of toilet paper (I kept that close because I needed it next) an Ivomec injection syringe with rubber hose, and something my four year old picked up somewhere, I found the .22 rifle.  But no bullets!  Oh well, by now my grandmother had come down to the barn to tell me Pepé was long gone.

 I’m guessing he sensed that I had been in a thirty-minute battle with a ½ inch stubborn bolt and nut, mosquitoes, a rancher’s aft cab collection, and he decided to leave out in a hurry.  I knew animals could sense fear, but I didn’t know they could sense and avoid an on-coming tool-throwing fit!

 I just thank the good Lord that I was in my dad’s truck.  If I had been in mine, chances are I would have had a few cow dogs with me. Then chances would have been really good that the cow dogs and I would have smelled like we just got back from Washington D.C.!

 I’m Monte Tucker, and that is what’s under my skunk whispering hat!

Rainy Day

Howdy friends and neighbors. This is absolutely my favorite time of the year, summer going into the fall.  The days are starting to get shorter, the temperature has started to cool and vary, and it is time to plant the next wheat crop.  The hay season is winding down, the summer crops are about ready to harvest and spring born claves are almost ready to wean.  Soon you will need a coat in the morning and the AC in the afternoon.  And then there is football.

 Sunday morning, as I was getting ready to go to church, my gut started to churn and I decided I better stay put at the house.  You know, we all have the Swine Flu out here in Western Oklahoma, according to the Daily Misinformation anyway; the same paper that is too broke to deliver their rag this far west.  So I thought I’d stay close to the house.  My ailment was probably a case of laziness because after a little breakfast and a nap, I felt fine.

Windfarm

Howdy friends and neighbors.  Here it is Sunday evening once again, as I sit down to write this, and what a gorgeous day!  Absolutely beautiful!  Cool and calm with some moisture in the air and a little in the ground.  We sure could use another rain though.  Of course, the only time I’m not wishing for a rain at Sunny Point, Oklahoma is when it is raining.  Then, I’m hoping it doesn’t stop for a while.  I’m doing my part to make it rain.  I’ve got the lid open on the grain bin, I’ve got the windows down and cattle mineral on the back of ol’ tan, but this is the clincher, I’ve got some of the best hay down I’ve had in a long time!  And if that doesn’t stir up a good storm, well I might have a shot at that Governor’s chair and Pepper “the wonder dog” could be the next Attorney General.

Guest Columnist

Howdy friends and neighbors.  Mark your calendars!  Dad and I spotted frost flowers this past week; so, in 60 days we should see our first frost.  That puts it here on…. October 17^th.  A frost flower, according to Sunny Point urban legend blooms around 60 days prior to the first frost of the fall.  If you want to look for some they stand about two feet tall out in pastures, light green with a white flower like thing-a-ma-bob at the top.  Sorry, I don’t know the scientific name for this plant.  But as far as my prediction goes… it was two days off last year and hey, my guess is as good as anybody else’s.

 

What’s that noise from outside?  What are those dogs barking at???  Oh I’ve got cattle out!  See ya next week!

 

 

GuEsT LeTtER tO the eDitoR:

 

This is Pepper “the wonder dog,” Tucker’s top cow hand.  Anyhow, the rumor around the barn yard here is that the old wind bag thinks he’s going to make a run for the governor’s seat here in this state.  Well, he’s as full of it as that young pup the other day that got into a fifty pound sack of high protein baby calf milk replacer.  Yep, Tucker thought it was me until the rookie couldn’t go fifty feet the other day gathering steers without stopping with the gut pain.  Ha, ha, ha.  Oh he had a bad case of the squirts.  I took notes though cuz I ain’t no fresh hound anymore and when nature needs a helping hand, I’ll go to the milk sack! 

Tucker to run for governor of Oklahoma!

 Howdy friends and neighbors.  Once again here I sit with nothing to write about.  Not watching the news anymore makes it hard to come up with stuff to write about.  I can’t put my Sunny Point twist to the current mess of politics.  So here is what I have decided to do.  Are you ready for this bomb shell?  

I am officially announcing my candidacy for Governor of the great state of Oklahoma!  Yep, I’m going to throw my hat (that went through the combine) in the ring and challenge the professional politicians for the top seat in the state! Ok, would someone get my wife some oxygen or maybe a paper sack?