SPRINGER FARMS MURRAY GRE
Well-known member
Subject: cowboys and ???
Three strangers strike up a conversation in the airport passenger
lounge in Tucson, AZ awaiting their flights.
One is an American Indian passing through from Cochise County.
Another is a Cowboy on his way to Casper for a livestock show and the third
passenger is a fundamentalist Arab student, newly arrived at Arizona
University from the Middle East.
Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon, the two
Westerners learn that the Arab is a devout, radical Muslim and the
conversation falls into an uneasy lull.
The cowboy leans back in his chair, crosses his boots on a
magazine table and tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face. The
wind outside is blowing tumbleweeds around, and the old windsock is
flapping, but still no plane comes.
Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly he
speaks, "At one time here, my people were many, but sadly, now we are f! ew."
The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward, "Once my
people were few," he sneers, "and now we are many. Why do you suppose that
is?"
The Arkansas cowboy shifts his toothpick to one side of his mouth
and from the darkness beneath his Stetson says in a drawl, "That's 'cause
we ain't played Cowboys and Muslims yet, but I do believe it's a-comin'".
Three strangers strike up a conversation in the airport passenger
lounge in Tucson, AZ awaiting their flights.
One is an American Indian passing through from Cochise County.
Another is a Cowboy on his way to Casper for a livestock show and the third
passenger is a fundamentalist Arab student, newly arrived at Arizona
University from the Middle East.
Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon, the two
Westerners learn that the Arab is a devout, radical Muslim and the
conversation falls into an uneasy lull.
The cowboy leans back in his chair, crosses his boots on a
magazine table and tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face. The
wind outside is blowing tumbleweeds around, and the old windsock is
flapping, but still no plane comes.
Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly he
speaks, "At one time here, my people were many, but sadly, now we are f! ew."
The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward, "Once my
people were few," he sneers, "and now we are many. Why do you suppose that
is?"
The Arkansas cowboy shifts his toothpick to one side of his mouth
and from the darkness beneath his Stetson says in a drawl, "That's 'cause
we ain't played Cowboys and Muslims yet, but I do believe it's a-comin'".