I Like The Nightlife, Baby/Chapter 6

1980 was a very good time to be a cowboy. Urban Cowboy was playing in the movie theaters, along with Coalminer’s Daughter, and, the cowboy, as he related to popular culture, was Golden!! Cowboy bars abounded, and, cowboy attire was popular, even for those folks who didn’t know a splint boot from a skid boot. Country music had hit the mainstream, and, country songs were getting regular play on the radio stations. Along side hits from the Cars, Journey, Queen and Fleetwood Mac, you were likely to hear Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings coming from the speakers in your car. The spotlight had turned its fickle beam onto Tim Hoyt at precisely the right moment in time, apparently. Those that were there to see him, standing in that light, were exactly the right audience. Tim had arrived, and, in spectacular fashion. It was strange to see him, moving among the people of our small town, like a celebrity. Even those with no affiliation to the horse community knew of him, and, flocked to him. He was, after all, a, “real,” cowboy. He made his living from horses, his sport involved a horse, a rope and, a steer, he came from Texas, and, he walked with bowed legs, and, a strong Texas accent. He was the real deal in a time when phony kitsch abounded in the form of the mechanical bull, men wearing spurs who’d never been on a horse, and, folks taking two step lessons at the local nightclub.

After the show in Lincoln, JD, Tim and I returned to Omaha tired and dusty. Tim and JD dropped me and Zippy off at home, so that I could get cleaned up and work out my plans for the evening, which meant convincing my parents to let me leave again. I tried to take a nap, but, could not stop my pulse from racing, or, my heart from fluttering. I wondered just what my cowboy had in store for the evening! As I was doing my laundry, my private phone line rang(no cell phones in 1980), and, I ran to answer(as most teenagers do). It was Tim! While dropping my trailer back off at Kathy’s, he had run into my friend Frank. Frank was about ten years older than I, and, had served for many years as a friend and confidante to me, helping me through a difficult home life. I knew that Frank and Tim had met, but, wasn’t certain how well they knew each other. Apparently, Frank was having a little poolside get together, at his folk’s house, and, Tim, JD and myself were going to attend. Tim also mentioned that I would be, “officially,” spending the night at Frank’s, so that Tim and JD didn’t have to worry about getting me home sober, or, by curfew, that evening. I got the impression, from his tone, that I would likely not, “really,” be spending the night at Frank’s. As Tim relayed all of this to me, the butterflies were tearing around in my stomach, and, I was shaking. What did all of this mean? Frank was a longtime friend of my family, and, he and I were very close, often going out to gay clubs, or, to parties(Frank was openly gay), together. I very often spent the night at Frank’s parent’s home. His folks were very liberal, and, they had a gorgeous pool, complete with a fully functional Tiki bar, in their back yard. I couldn’t imagine what sort of conversation had taken place between Frank and Tim to initiate this event. Thus far, Tim had been almost infuriatingly respectful of my parents, and, as far as I knew, he and Frank barely knew each other. And, where did JD figure into these plans? I had assumed JD would be staying with Tim.

Seven thirty rolled around, and, I could hear the dogs barking, signaling to me that my date for the evening had arrived. I was in the bathroom, putting the finishing touches on my makeup. I had dressed with care for the evening, which was somewhat atypical for me, pulling on a pair of denim cut off short shorts over my swimsuit bottoms, and, buttoning a periwinkle colored shirt over my swimsuit top, and, tying it at the waist. On my feet I wore my most prized possession: a pair of wedge heeled sandals that tied around my ankles. It was difficult to get grown up shoes in my size, and, these sandals were a treasure! I had found them via mail order, and, I wore them with considerable pride. The house was empty, and, Tim and JD were just letting themselves in as I emerged from the bathroom. Tim asked, “Are you finished getting all dolled up?” I flushed with embarrassment. Then, he let out a nice, clear wolf whistle, as he looked me over. JD was silent, but, grinning. I felt magnificent!! Tim said softly, “Is all that for me, darlin’?” I asked, coolly, “All what?” He just laughed. Apparently, my cowboy was on to me. I grabbed my purse, bent over to place a kiss on my sheltie, Zippy’s little forehead, and, we left my home for our evening adventure into the warm, spring air.
As I climbed into Tim’s pickup, I got a little boost from behind…The evening was warm, however, it was early spring, and, I could feel an approaching chill in the wind. I shivered at the thought, as I sat next to Tim, and, he said dryly, “Don’t tell me yer cold already? Yer gonna freeze when you take them shorts off and git in the pool.” Looking straight ahead, I replied,” You’re going to be cold, too. It’s too early in the year for a pool party.” Like me, Tim had an intolerance for the cold. Too cold or not, I felt magnificent! I felt grown up, and, dangerous. I felt a sense of anticipation, and, a little fear. I dared a glance at Tim, who was looking down at my legs. “JD, look at them dainty little pasterns, “ he commented, and, reached down to encircle my ankle with his thumb and foreginger, resting his other three fingers on my foot. “Damn!” he exclaimed, softly. JD replied, “Yeah, she’s got a set of dogs on’er, for such a little thing!” What else was he poor JD supposed to say? I was a bit uncomfortable, at this. It was one thing to have Tim ogling me…I loved it! Quite another to have a stranger doing so. I sat between the two, with my feet resting on the hump in the middle. Tim had to brush against my bare thighs with his hands, every time he shifted…which was fine by me. Occasionally, he’d meet my eyes and smile, and, I would melt inside. He had, “The Cars,” playing on the eight track, and, the two of us sang along. JD didn’t join in the singing…Tim and I were accustomed to each other’s poor singing abilities, and, were unselfconscious about it. We sang all the time, to each other, with each other, to the colts we rode—we both loved to sing, and, the fact that neither of us was a good singer left us unfazed. Both Tim and I had spent a great deal of time alone, growing up, with the barn radio serving as our only companion. Often, one of us would burst into song, with the other singing the next line, loudly.