"You Know... Where The Buffaloes Roam And All That Stuff,"

The Famous Montana Hat...

I received a call yesterday morning from Larry Leonard. Well, that's what the phone told me who was calling, but I didn't recognize the voice and the only Larry I knew that might call me was my next door neighbor.

It didn't sound like him.

"Hi, Mr. Ben, this is Larry!"

"Hey there, Larry" I replied.

"Larry who?" I asked.

"Mr. Ben, this is Larry... Badass Larry," he said.

I could tell something was up. Badass has never called me. He got a new flip phone a few months ago and barely knew how to use it. I tried to "edjamacate" him, but he was too embarrassed to learn.

"Hey man, wassup?"

Sniffles in the background made me think about the worse. Larry carried a small 22 caliber pistol on a belt holster next to the belt holster that houses his seldom used flip phone.

Polite as ever, asking me how Therese and I were, he told me that his wife of sixty plus years had passed away earlier in the morning.

Disguising my real sigh of relief, I quickly attempted to share his grief at losing her.

Upon hearing that me Dad has passed away, I felt that same sigh of relief.

"Do you wanna meet at Giddy Up? Is there something I can do to help you out? Please let me help," I begged him.

"No, he said, I just come back from there!"

Talking a bit about arrangements for her funeral, I reminded him that I wanted to be a part of his grief and offered another visit at the coffeehouse if he wanted.

After hanging up the phone, I immediately thought of his beloved cowboy hat. Because I lusted after it, he promised to buy me one when he leaves this all behind and moves to Montana... if his wife passed away before he did.

Seems like every morning, Badass would sit alone with his cinnamon roll and coffee and complain about his life with his wife who suffered for years with Parkinsons. The entire scene is pretty sad, and I'd always do what I could to listen and put a smile on his face.

"Dude, you've got diabetes on top of your Mesothelioma, you cannot be drowning your dreams in cinnamon rolls," I'd say in a "sweet talking" admonishment.

"What about your Montana? You wanna return there, don't you?"

"You know... where the buffaloes roam and all that stuff," I'd say.

"Aw, Ben... it don't matter much, anymore!"

With a "nudge, nudge, wink wink," I'd remind him how I much I needed him to return to Montana to buy me that cowboy hat. Apparently, that's where the hat came from when he was younger and had once visited his newest faraway place.

Defending in a rather befuddled way, he'd tell me about the latest abuse his wife would bestow on him.

"It... it don't matter much. She doesn't know what she's doing!"

I guess we all have a need for that special place here on earth where things are bound to be better. Some dreams do come true. It will be interesting to see if indeed, Badass leaves it all behind and return to the "badlands of Montana"...

And, buy me that hat!

First cup

Copyright 2022/Ben Bensen III