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ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Red Cowboy Boots

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This week I am attending a one-week writer’s residency program at Dairy Hollow in Eureka Springs. During this time I will re-post some of my favorite blogs from the prior year. Maybe you missed one? 

originally published 02/09/12…


I could have lived in Nashville. I almost had a date with Buddy Jewell, Osceola’s current claim to fame -the FIRST ever Nashville Star winner! Seriously. I have a love note from Buddy Jewell. He passed it to me after my biology class at Arkansas State, the fall of 1980. He had a class in that same classroom immediately following mine. As I walked out, he was sitting there waiting to go inside, actually playing his guitar. Just kinda messing around on it. Clearly, he was meant to be in Nashville.

I didn’t know him that well – he graduated a couple of years before me – from rival high school Osceola. I was a Rivercrest Colt. Anytime we wanted to irritate “our” boys, or just get their attention, we dated a boy from Osceola… It worked pretty well.
The note was folded up very tightly into a little square. Why would Buddy Jewell be handing me a note? I stuck it in my jeans to save for later. In private. In my dorm room. I couldn’t imagine what it was about. Maybe he wanted to hook up with my roommate? After reading it, I was very surprised. Wow, the first Nashville Star! No, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself….
Apparently it was for real, but we never went out. Way too complicated – I was dating Mark Wooten and transferring to Baylor... he was headed to Nashville – someday. Even so, I stuck the note in my bedroom drawer with all my letters and cards and junk – treasures I had collected throughout my life to that point. Years later, my mother called me to tell me that someone from Osceola was on Nashville Star. Nashville Star? Never heard of it… 

She said, “I think his name is Jewell…?”

Buddy Jewell? Yeah, I know him! I have a love letter from him.

Later, after Buddy won, I dug it out of that drawer and flaunted it to all of my cousins who were duly impressed. (Always hold on to things like that – you just never know.)

Buddy was handsome – no doubt about it. He looked like Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing. And that guitar was hot. He carried it everywhere. Obviously he was headed for bigger things. And he was observant – he certainly recognized that I was a Nashville kinda girl. I could have been.

It was probably those Razorback Red Justin cowboy boots I wore – nearly every day – to classes. After I transferred to Baylor, I traded those in for more appropriate ‘Texas-looking’ boots, bought at The Western Fair in Lott – a quick side trip from Waco. All the Baylor freshmen saved their money to buy boots there – a necessity for the Cotton-Eye Joe which we practiced at the fraternal hall in West. The Western Fair smelled of leather and oil, and Lucchese boots were lined up for blocks and blocks. My new boots were brown – a bit more subdued. I couldn’t very well walk around the Baylor campus in Razorback red – the schools weren’t that chummy. I wish I still had those red Justins.

A couple of years ago, right before Christmas, my friend Becky and I, along with her daughter Christie, planned a girl’s trip to Nashville. This was my first trip to Nashville – very exciting for a girl brought up with Conway Twitty and George Jones. I couldn’t contain myself – all those historical sites – the Grand Ole Opry – wow! – Country Music Hall of Fame – I could cross another item off my bucket list. Becky and Christie, on the other hand, seemed to be a bit more interested in visiting all the Nashville malls. We went to at least 3 malls and purchased NOTHING. Only a week before Christmas, parking was horrendous and Christie was determined to park by the front door – very odd for someone with a dedicated workout practice who eats only paleo….

Unless it’s a bookstore or nursery, I don’t like to shop. Secondly, I live in Dallas, 5 minutes from the power of Northpark Mall, with 1.9 million square feet of gross leasable area. It’s probably one of the top 5 malls in the nation based on sales per square foot. Northpark has everything. It’s an incredible place, and I try my best to avoid it at all costs. Becky and Christie were understandably bored with Jonesboro’s retail options – the city only recently got its first escalator.

Becky’s primary goal on this trip was to spot Keith Urban, preferably without Nicole. Honestly, I thought our chances of spotting Keith lunching at Panera on baked potato soup were slim. But we looked. I’m not sure Becky even ate.

We did shop and sightsee – something for everyone… We even worked in a line dance lesson. The absolute highlight for me was seeing Porter Wagoner’s rhinestone jacket and Bocephus’ boots! Buddy Jewell’s college guitar wasn’t exhibited at the Hall of Fame yet, but maybe in time. I don’t remember if any Keith artifacts were there, but I’m sure Becky knows.

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Comments

  1. Ha…there were Keith artifacts there…remember I have my pic standing by it and pointing!! As you know, I am NOT a shopper either! I’m thinking on our mother/daughter trip to the Big D, we may just have to drop Christie off at the Northpark Mall and we can surely find somewhere to sit and have a marg. and people watch!! Maybe we’ll even get lucky enough to have a Keith sigting…with or w/o Nicolle and the girls!! (oh, and don’t forget the sighting of the MJ glove in Nashville mall parking lot!)

  2. Were those Ropers, T? If so, I had the much more conservative navy blue ones .. but today would LOVE to have a pair of red ones! In fact, the LH Wrangler girls do wear the red ones … 🙂

  6. Thank you sweet girl for making my day!!!! Two posts….yes mam!!!! I also hate shopping…with a passion but will do it online for Christmas presents. I do however love to people watch and had the most fun one year with my little sister Muffett as we sat in the sand at Laguna Beach, CA and watched Fabio do a nude photo shoot before the police shut him down. That was before the famous bird incident. He was however, having problems with squirrels on that day….I kid you not…haha.

  9. Even better with the musical accompaniment of Buddy Jewell. Twang of guilt just hit this southern baptist. I should be at Whitton Baptist singing the 5th verse of “Just as I Am”.

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