Binderama60for60

I’d like to think that somewhere in the world, at an arena, under a tent or on some dusty ranch, someone is handing over their ticket and gushing with glee, “This is my first rodeo!” Man oh man, what an awesome thing: to have that kind of experience for the first time, with all the sights and smells and noise and so many things bucking and bronc’ing and getting roped and hogtied.

So why are so many of us so jaded as to scoff at any little thing, “This ain’t my first rodeo”? Been there, done that, got the award, you all bore me, I’m no sucker, don’t underestimate me, I know what I’m doing.

Those of you who know me know that I am indeed that jaded. Even if I haven’t done something, I tend to betray excitement and steel myself in emotional armor. Like when I went to one of those skydiving simulators for the first (and last) time. “So it’s like falling? I do that on the daily.”

That’s not a boast. It’s a fault. At any age, we should all seek out new experiences, throw ourselves in to learn new things and surprise ourselves, be scared, lost, exhilarated and even redeemed. But somewhere along the way, many of us lose that thirst for wonder. And maybe risk.

How did this idiom even become a thing?

This ain’t my first blog post. You need to respect that I have this under control, know the score, how all this works. So take one step back while I check in with ChatGPT to investigate.

According to Chat, the phrase originated in the movie, “Mommie Dearest,” so you know it’s badass. Faye Dunaway as Joan Crawford is something to see (and maybe watch every morning).

We’ve all had our first rodeos

Thinking back on some of my “first rodeos,” I’m seeing that some emboldened me, some thrilled me and some scared me so bad I never wanted to go to another damn rodeo. And with every one of them, I learned something.

• My first audition for high school theater, “Fiddler on the Roof.” When asked what song I’d be performing, I had nothing. So they played something, I tried to sing, I sucked and I skulked out. Lessons: my place is backstage and I cannot sing
• Losing my virginity at 16. Awkward, not in a good way. Lesson: Don’t give up, there will be more rodeos in your future
• The first day of just about every job. Lesson: The second day won’t be much different
• Going through a bad breakup. Lesson: It’s gonna sting for a while and there’s not much you can do about it
• My first live media interview as a publicist, with controversial Detroit legend Denny McLain. It was an hour long, and I was 24 with a modicum of training and a head of steam. Scary and humbling, but ultimately a game changer for me. Lesson: You can fake it til you make it, but you better make it fast
• My first heart episode. Lesson: dial 911 instead of driving to the ER, looking for parking and walking three blocks (btw, thankfully there hasn’t been a second one of these rodeos)
• My first marathon. Lesson: don’t believe everyone who says they ran a marathon
• I’ve only been married once, so technically I’m still on my first rodeo. Lesson: “I totally agree, honey”

While analogous first rodeos can be hard to remember (or better to forget), I actually do remember my first rodeo, thanks to my Mom’s diary and a blog series from a few years ago. It was August 3, 1969 near Gothenberg, Nebraska. I was four.

As for my next first rodeo, I don’t know how many I have left in me. It might be something meta like taking up rodeo fandom, traveling from place to place to see me some more bucking. Doesn’t sound like fun. Maybe I could do some bucking of my own, sign up to compete on the senior rodeo circuit. Ride and lasso and hogtie. How about being one of those clowns? I not too old to do that, right? Get some chaps.

I’ve gone off on a tangent here from which there is no return. Believe me, though: this is not my first rodeo.