With a belt buckle as big as a dinner plate, wide-brimmed hat, and boots that obviously weren’t worn for show, the guy who greeted me in Ros-well, N.M.’s, tiny airport terminal was the real deal, not a drugstore cowboy.
“How are you, sir,” he asked, before we fell into a conversation about the weather — always a good starting point with anyone who has spent a lifetime outdoors. “Where do you live?” Iola, in southeast Kansas, I said. Kansas clicked: “How’s the wheat this year?” Looks good, I replied. “Kansas is the wheat state,” he added.
I didn’t have the heart to admit North Dakota for several years has pushed Kansas to second place for production of the cool-weather crop, or that Montana is third. Apparently, all those years of boasting on our license plates — The Wheat State — have had a lasting impact.
From that point we talked about New Mexico, known for being in the Democrats’ corner. Maybe, he allowed, but when I said Hillary Clinton was next to assured of being the Democrat candidate, Trump for the GOP. He mused: “Is there a third choice?”
I got that a lot when I’d casually mention presidential politics when visiting with several people during time in Roswell for grandson Hudson’s high school graduation, outdoors and concluded with a brilliant fireworks display.
At a party for the new grad on Saturday — daughter Brenda spent a month planning and putting it together, in amazing fashion, I might add — I asked the same question. One fellow, whom I judged to have strong opinions gave me a blank look for a few seconds, and then said: “If I have to pick one, it isn’t going to be Hillary, but I’m sure not fond of Trump.”
Only a handful of people answered quickly and decisively, for one or the other. On basis of that, Hillary held the lead.
The most introspective was an older fellow sipping coffee in Hastings book store, a favorite haunt of mine anytime I am in Roswell. He settled back, stuffed tobacco into his pipe — you can smoke in public there — and drifted into thought. Finally, with a smirk, he asked: “What are the choices again?”
Campaign signs haven’t shown up much along highways leading through Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas and into New Mexico. The only one that caught my eye was in Portales, N.M. In two-foot-high letters it proclaimed: “We don’t believe you, Hillary.”
