COWBOYS & SATURDAYS..Yeah, I was eating my Sugar-Frosted Flakes with the shades drawn, staring straight up the barrels of Roy Rogers' twin six-shooters aiming at me out of the TV tube in our living room in black-and-white..preparing to die. When suddenly it occurred to me, Hey it's Saturday! and what am I doing sitting looking at TV when I can go strolling in the sunshine instead? So I pulled on my red cowboy-boots and said "Mom I'm going to the park," and she said,"which one?" and I said, "Hart's Park", --she said, "Okay, here's a sandwich to take with you. And be back in time for lunch. And no funny business." I said Okay. So I walked down the hill not taking the usual short-cuts to the main street past the Rexall Drugstore and all the other businesses, and businessmen, and passed the Sheriff's office; and said 'Hi' to the post-man in his official U.S. Post Office uniform shorts and pith-helmet, walking his cart carrying its leather mail-pouch along his route to William S. Hart Park, where the famous cowboy star once lived and breathed. And where soldiers from the Newhall area who died fighting in the World Wars are buried, beneath bright white crosses spread evenly over hills covered by a blanket of thick, fresh-cut grass; and where, also, the Easter sunrise services are held under the big cross, reflecting...

---

Support Canada Free Press

---