alternately titled: Is the Rodeo in Town, or Did You Lose a Bet?
Never let it be said that Missoula is a town without culture.
This morning, a man in his late 50s got on my bus, and I gotta tell ya, I about lost my breath. He was sporting a mullet. It wasn't overly long in the back - it just touched his collar. But it was a definitely a mullet.
Hey, I liked the mullet on David Bowie. But Achybreaky Heart-Throb
ruined it for me. (Country singers are always a decade behind the trends ) So you gotta understand, when I see The Mullet pop up over the partition on that bus, I'm already smiling to myself.
Next, his shirt comes into view...red-white-and-blue, and very Garth Brooky. But it isn't till he steps fully into the bus that I get the Big Picture.
His first three buttons are undone alá Saturday Night Fever. And naturally, he has accessorized with a gold necklace, and (god help me) matching gold bracelet.
His shirt is tucked over a round tummy into a pair of classic orange Carhartt jeans that are two sizes too small. (Camel Joe Toe??) And to bottom it all out, he has on a pair of Pat Boone's white leather shoes and no socks!
I'm not making this up! It is as though Wicked Fairy Godmothers from 3 decades have visited upon him Embarrassing Clichés of Seasons Past.
As he walks by the only other passenger on the bus, she looks over at me with eyes round as saucers, and brimming with tears, and I know, I'm going to laugh. To save myself, I quickly look out the window, and try to think about the traffic. But when he pivots around into the seat right in front of me, I look back around!
And I'm focused right. there. - right smack dap in the center of the top of his mulleted head - to a patch, perfectly round, shiny and tanned...of baldness.