Dear Cowboy, Valentine’s Day is coming up soon and I don’t know what to get for my guy. What do cowboys want for Valentine’s Day? I have limited funds.

Dear Confused and Broke,

When it comes to gifts on this romantic holiday, you ought to just throw all the typical stuff — candy, flowers, fancy cards, guilt — out the window. Safe to say that anything you see advertised on the TV as perfect for Valentines, your guy won’t like it. I know for a fact that cowboys are pretty hard to buy for but, at least for the guys I know, it’s not impossible. So to help dispel some of the mystery, here’s a list of the top ten things a cowboy might like for Valentine’s Day:

1) A tool of almost any kind. Doesn’t matter if you know what it’s for, or whether he already has one, or even if he’ll ever use it; he’ll appreciate the effort and you can have too many of anything that fits in the tool chest.

2) A pocket knife or a knife of any kind — again, you can’t really have too many.

3) A bottle of whiskey.

4) Two bottles of whiskey. I know you indicated lack of funds might be an issue, so feel free to get the cheap stuff; he can just mix it with coke if it’s not the sipping kind.

5) A book. Seriously. I know what you’re thinking, but guys do like to read. You have to be a little careful with this one — no self help books or how to rekindle the fire in the bedroom books. I’m talking about something, anything, by Louis L’Amour, Zane Grey or Mickey Spillane.

6) Lottery tickets. Sure, the odds are low but the opportunity to dream big, together, is kind of fun and it will only set you back a few bucks. And who knows, if it’s a winner, he can get you a little something too. Like a new house.

7) A gift subscription to Guns and Ammo or Western Horseman. They’re pretty cheap these days and a magazine will give him something to look forward in the mailbox, partially offsetting the dread of more usual contents — bills.

8) A nice home cooked meal. Or, if he normally does the cooking, a nice meal out. Either way, make sure it involves steak and at least one cocktail.

9) A massage. A romantic one is fine, but I’m actually talking about the real deal. Chances are, he’s been working hard. Help work some of that tension out, and don’t be using none of that scented oil that’ll stink him up. If it’s a good massage, chances are he’ll fall asleep and after a nap, maybe try the romantic massage.

10) The number one gift you can get your guy for Valentine’s Day is a free pass for Valentine’s Day. Let him know that you don’t want no gifts nor romantic gestures from him this Valentine’s Day. You’ll need to give him this well in advance in order for him to truly appreciate it, but I guarantee you that the peace of mind and overwhelming sense of relief is truly priceless.

One quick caveat. If you do give him a pass on Valentine’s Day, the perfect gift, and he actually takes you up on it, find yourself a new cowboy. Because the one you’re with ain’t worth a damn.

Dear Cowboy, My third year anniversary is coming up in two weeks and its my turn to cook. What should I make my cowboy. Please help; all I’m good at making is cakes.

Thanks for writing anniversary cook, and let me first say congratulations on three years. In Hollywood time, three years is practically a lifelong commitment.

As for the meal, the way I see it, you’ve basically got two options. The first is what I call “the classic.” It’s a meal that’s bound to appeal to the hearts and stomachs of cowboys everywhere. Start with a nice cocktail — whiskey, light rocks — then add a steak, maybe a nice New York cut, and grill it medium rare. Pair that up with a baked potato with all the fixings (butter, sour cream and chives … and another potato), a vegetable to fill the plate up, maybe some green beans if you got them, and some homemade dinner rolls. For dessert, since you already said you are a pretty good hand at the cakes, maybe try something a little different like a red velvet cake with white chocolate frosting.

That’s option one and, since my stomach is growling, it’s a pretty good one. Option two is what I’ll call the Southern fried anniversary. Start with a cocktail — whiskey, light rocks — and then add some crispy fried chicken, milk gravy made with the pan drippings, mashed potatoes, fried green tomatoes (if you can find some), corn on the cob and some homemade dinner rolls. For dessert, hot cherry cobbler with vanilla ice cream.

Wow, I don’t think anything says I love you and here’s to the next three years better than that spread.

I guess there is one more option. The traditional gift for three years is leather so you could come up with a new tradition and go to one of them upscale restaurants with the fancy, fake leather menu covers and let someone else do all the cooking. Since you take turns, it’s a gift you can both enjoy for years to come.

The red velvet cake is still a good idea. So’s the cobbler. Or really surprise him and make both!

Dear Cowboy, What are you cooking for Thanksgiving? What are you thankful for this year?

Thanks for writing in turkey-lover. This year, I’m thinking about cooking up a roast turkey with fresh sage stuffing and an apple cider-pomegranate glaze. I’ll pair that with creamy mashed turnips topped with crispy bacon crumbles and zucchini boats stuffed with the caramelized onions and bleu cheese.

Naw, I’m just pulling your leg.

My list of recipes is pretty small. If I really want to go all out, put a roast in the slow cooker and bake some potatoes, or maybe make a pot of pinto beans and a pan of cornbread. From a mix.

Thanksgiving is a time to be thankful and I’m thankful for a lot of things, like the fact that I don’t have to cook up a bunch of food.

I’m also thankful my kinfolks live far enough away I only have to see them for weddings and funerals.

I’m really thankful that I live in a beautiful part of the country and it don’t take a fancy meal to appreciate that. Eating spray cheese on them chicken-flavored crackers washed down with truck-stop coffee tastes pretty good when you’re watching the sun come up over snow-capped mountain peaks.

Of course, I’m also thankful for people who like to cook fancy food, like my lady friend. This Thanksgiving she’s putting on a pretty good spread featuring the menu I described above and a whole lot more. Of course, that means sitting down at the table with a bunch of people I don’t know all that well, but no one expects me to be a sparkling conversationalist. In fact, they’d probably prefer it if I kept my mouth shut. Alls I have to do is show up hungry and wear loose pants.

So I guess what I’m really thankful for this year is love.

And pumpkin pie with caramel pecan sauce and fresh whipped cream.

Happy Thanksgiving everybody.

Dear Cowboy,

I recently started seeing a cowboy, and I am a city girl. He is the kindest man I have ever known and he always takes care of me in every way. Lately he has been introducing me to the country life, and I love it. My question is, how do you know when a cowboy loves you?

Hey there, City Girl, thanks for writing. It’s nice to know cross-cultural relationships are alive and well. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that if your fellow is taking care of you in every way, it’s a pretty safe bet he’s in love with you. The thing about cowboys is that they are kind of simple, in the good way; uncomplicated, you might say. The cowboys I know, and I know a lot, aren’t into playing games … unless of course it’s low-stakes poker like for matches or pennies.

If he wasn’t in love with you, he’d probably just be nice to you and then ride off into the sunset at the first opportunity.

Just sticking around, of course, ain’t reason enough assume love might be occurring.

Here are a few absolutely foolproof signs that a cowboy truly loves you:

• He shines his boots or at least puts on fresh duct tape
• He takes you out to a real sit down dinner in which the food ain’t wrapped in paper and served with fries
• He wears his “going to town” hat instead of his “going hunting hat”
• He introduces you to his mom
• He brings you wildflowers
• He missed poker night with his  buddies (see above) for movie night with you, and let you pick the movie
• He bathes his dog before movie night
• He listens to your music instead of just country
• He lets you drive his truck (that’s one step away from an engagement, by the way)

Most importantly, the single biggest sign that your cowboy — or anyone, really — is in love with you is that he listens. I mean truly listens. Once you strip away all the other stuff, love is about caring enough to listen — all the time, on any topic and not just the ass-covering kind of “recording for playback later” listening. Listening means taking in information, thinking about it and then acting upon it if necessary. If your guy is doing that, and doing at least one of the other examples from above, he’s in love. I hope you enjoy the country life because chances are, you’re gonna be getting your fill of it.

Dear Cowboy,

Will Lizzie ever find her true love or be stuck in her hometown? It’s very interesting about how a cowboy is in love with a Vampire.

Hey there, Hometown Hopeful, it is an interesting situation Lizzie finds herself in. And your question is kind of interesting, too. Wondering if she’ll be “stuck” in her hometown suggests you’re not overly fond of your hometown. That’s often for good reason. Nature has a pretty clear tendency to kick young ‘uns out of the nest so they can go off and find their own way. Most people, myself included, try to get away from their hometowns as soon as possible and then many spend the rest of their lives wondering how to get back.

I grew up in a very small town in Montana, population 2,000, with more bars than churches — and there was a lot of churches. The ink was barely dry on my high school diploma before I high-tailed it to a nearby metropolis of more than 50,000 people. I been all over since then, enough places to realize 50,000 is still pretty small, but I have to admit the day I learned the ranch house I grew up in had been turned into a bed and breakfast for rich yuppies wanting to play cowboy, well, part of me wished I’d never left.

Usually the reason hometowns light a fire under people’s behinds is on account of how small they are and the limited opportunities to do anything different than what’s expected. Makes sense. People who watched you grow up may have some preconceptions about what you’ll amount to, and some folks find that limiting.

Lizzie comes from New York City which don’t suffer from them problems. New York is pretty damn big, bigger than most states, and you can do or be almost anything or anyone you want to be. Within reason, of course. There’s plenty of drawback too. You can’t see the stars, for example, nor go to the mountains. Or go hunting right outside your front door, or know every single one of your neighbors (not saying that’s necessarily a good thing).

Big city living isn’t bad or good, it’s just different, which is probably why Lizzie found something special in the exact opposite of LonePine. It’s completely different than what was she was used to — all the hustle and bustle of New York — and the people there, though few, didn’t have no expectations of her.

Getting away from your hometown without losing the part of you that’s special is kind of tricky. Falling in love, and staying in love, is even trickier. I have this theory that the love is a semi-permanent derangement of the senses. ‘Cause really, it don’t make much sense to spend your life with another person. But I think you’re the happiest when you’re with someone who smoothes out your rough edges and vice versa. It’s like how jig saw puzzle pieces make something special when all them jaggedy edges line up.

I know Lizzie and Tucker and they got a lot of jaggedy edges. But together, they’re something special. Pretty sure neither of ‘em is gonna let that go, no matter what town they come from.

Dear Cowboy,

I love him, but he’s slow to pick up my dropped hints. So how do I tell him we need a puppy running around our house?

Dear Pet Lover, I have ridden a lot of pretty rough trails and found there’s a big difference between “want” and “need.” You say you need a puppy, but is it possible you might just want one? Sometimes it’s hard to keep the two straight.

I’m reminded of the time I got my first car. When I was a young buckaroo, I wanted a muscle car. I spent a lot of time and energy not only doing my regular chores — which some would call a full day’s work to begin with — but also stacking hay for a neighbor. After three summers of that, I saved up enough money to buy a beat up old 1972 Camaro much to the dismay of mom and dad. I spent even more time and money getting it fixed up and repainted so that it looked and ran like a dream. About the second week I’d been tooling around in it, I was driving home from school feeling pretty good about myself when I seen a couple of coyotes harassing a newborn calf out in the pasture. Without really thinking it through, I wheeled my car right out across the sagebrush and drove up onto a rock about the size of dining table. The good news was that all the noise and excitement and sparks and cussing scared them coyotes clean to the next county. The bad news was I knocked a hole in the oil pan, punctured the radiator, cracked the axle, bent the frame and popped the two front tires.

I learned an important lesson: I wanted a muscle car, but I needed a pickup.

I guess what I’m trying to say is there’s lots of reasons people think they need a puppy, not the least of which is they want something more significant in their relationship. In fact, I have heard from some folks that the desire to have a puppy is sometimes an as yet unrealized desire to have a baby. Not that there’s anything wrong with babies, or puppies, it’s just that both of them tend to grow up into a whole passel of responsibilities that last for a long time. Before you start thinking about things that can keep your relationship all glued together, make sure you’re with the person you want to be stuck to for a while.

If it all works out and you both decide to get a puppy, please get it from the pound — preferably a Blue Heeler. Just don’t be writing back for advice when you want to stay asleep in bed but you need to get up at 2 a.m. so someone can go do their business.

Dear Cowboy,

I’ve met this girl I like a lot but I don’t know how to get her attention. I’m pretty sure she’s not an actual vampire, but she dresses like one and hangs around with a bunch of Goths. I’m just a regular guy, I’m not a cowboy or anything, but I like her and I thought maybe you could give me some ideas on how to let her know it.

Dear Hot-to-Trot for Vampire Gals, I had to look up Goth on the internet to figure out exactly what you were talking about and I learned a lot in the process. I think I understand your predicament. If you are a regular guy, next to all them folks dressed like they’re a hundred years too late to the party with their pierced this and that, you’re going to stand out like a Texas Longhorn at a goat roping contest. But that may not be a bad thing.

Near as I can tell, them Goths are trying mighty hard to be different from everyone else — and judging by the way some of us look, that’s not necessarily a bad idea — and making themselves all kinds of the same in the process. If the gal you’re sweet on is really interested in finding things that are different, and all the guys she hangs out with are a little on the moody and depressed side of things, a fellow like you might be just what she’s looking for — it’s just that she just may not know it yet. It’s all too easy to overlook what you actually need even when you’re looking right at it.

I’m reminded of the time I was working on the automatic garage door in the shop when I accidentally closed it pinched the fingers on my left hand in one of the sections. It hurt pretty bad and as I was standing there on top of the ladder with my fingers all mashed up unable to move, I kept thinking the only way out of it was to use the claw hammer within my reach to pry the door off the track. I wasn’t thinking too clearly because I actually had to move the automatic door opener to the side so I could reach the hammer. Long story short, I knocked a hole in a new door and ended up having to replace the whole darn thing when I could have just opened it.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that if she’s surrounded by claw hammers, you need to show her you’re a garage door opener. The thing about these Goth folks is they seem mighty sensitive and complicated, so I suggest you try something straightforward and confident. Next time you see her, just walk right up and say something like “I like you. Not sure why yet, but how about we go have a cup of coffee and let me try to figure it out.”

If she says, yes, I think you got a real shot at making something good happen. You will have to be on your best behavior and maybe read some poetry or listen to some music you don’t understand at first, but that’s okay because the things that make us different from one another eventually are the things that keep us together.

I’m no psychiatrist, but I’ve always thought that what makes couples work for the long haul is when the jagged edges of ourselves match up in a way that makes for one smooth whole. We’re all of us anxious to find the person who matches up their positives to our negatives but if you’re always looking for someone too much like you, you’re going to overlook something special. And eventually all them places where you don’t fit are going to cause problems.

Dear Cowboy,

I’m surrounded by a generation of oversexed young men who prefer video games over a walk in the park. Where can I locate love? Where have all the cowboys gone?

Dear Distressed Youth, I don’t know where all the cowboys have gone, especially the young ones, but I hope they come back soon. Cowboys seem to be on the endangered species list and I think the world would be a lot worse off without them.

I know one thing for sure, you won’t find real cowboys playing any game … except maybe poker. Or pool. In fact, you’re more likely to find them already at the park when you get there. And you don’t need to look for someone wearing a Stetson and pair of boots (although it is a good clue). Being a cowboy is a state of mind and I think you can still find men ­— even young men — who are honest and hardworking, who don’t play games (video or emotional), who respect you and who always have your back — always — anywhere in the country. Any state, any city, any town … there’s even cowboys in other countries.

For example, buckaroo comes from the Spanish word vaquero, honoring the country where the whole cowboy thing got started. I guess all I’m saying is “cowboy” is more a collection of qualities than an upbringing. And more than likely, a real cowboy will be looking for someone just like you, someone who aint afraid to do her own thing, someone who wants more out of life than a high score.

As for you fellows, if you’ve got any interest at all in becoming a man, moving out of your mom’s basement and meeting a woman like DY, put down the joystick and cowboy up a little. If you’re not sure what do, Gene Autry jotted down some of what it takes to be a cowboy more than 60 years ago. It’s a good place to get started:

The Cowboy Code

1. The Cowboy must never shoot first, hit a smaller man or take unfair advantage.

2. He must never go back on his word or a trust confided in him.

3. He must always tell the truth.

4. He must be gentle with children, the elderly and animals.

5. He must not advocate or possess racially or religiously intolerant ideas.

6. He must help people in distress.

7. He must be a good worker.

8. He must keep himself clean in thought, speech, action and personal habits.

9. He must respect women, parents and his nation’s laws.

10. The Cowboy is a patriot.

Good luck and keep me posted!

Dear Cowboy,

How do you get a guy to propose to you without telling him to?

Dear Ready 2 Pop (btw, I don’t give out folks’ real names, they deserve their privacy)… it’s a simple three-step process. First, you need to get yourself a PhD in theoretical physics from one of them fancy colleges back east, then you need to build yourself a time machine and lastly you need to go back to the distant beginning of time and tinker with evolution so that men and women end up completely different than they are today. There may be other ways, but that strikes me as the easiest.

If that all sounds like too much trouble, you could try the classic strategy of dropping hints like leaving copies of “Modern Bride” magazine laying around or maybe walking around in a wedding dress and saying, “What do you think about this one?”

And while that has occasionally worked, the heart of the matter is that if the guy you’re with doesn’t want to propose, are you sure you’re with the right guy? If you have to trick him or pressure him into proposing, it makes me wonder if he’s really the guy you want to spend the rest of your life with.

I’m reminded of the time I was trying to get my dog to load up for a trip to the vet. Somehow, he always seems to know the difference between a vet visit and any other kind of driving. To avoid the usual begging and pleading and arguing and debating and chasing and, ultimately, scuffling and hurt feelings as I throw him through the open window into the front seat, I decided to outsmart him, to trick him. I cooked off some hamburger patties, let them cool and just tossed them on the floorboard of the truck and left the door open. Then I set about doing some busy work, sharpening an axe and whatnot, and waiting. Eventually, his appetite got the better of his good judgment — I know how to cook burgers just the way he likes them — and when he thought I wasn’t looking, he hopped up in the truck to investigate. I slammed the door shut and he got a trip to the vet, a rabies shot in the ass and his teeth cleaned.

I was feeling pretty proud of myself and how I’d tricked him, but looking back it only made him resent me and distrustful. Here it is four years later and he’s practically a vegetarian.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that if you have to plot and plan and scheme to get what you want out of a relationship, you might need to ask yourself if you’re in the right relationship. Because happy, long-lasting relationships — though few and far between — are built on trust and nurtured with communication. You ought to be someone who wants to make you as happy and knows how to accomplish that, and vice versa. If them two things are lined up, then the proposal will happen naturally enough. If it’s not, well, there’s always the time machine.

Dear Cowboy,

Where’s a middle-aged maven able to find herself a clean, handsome, and rowdy middle-aged cowboy?

Tess Trueheart, try Wyoming. Or possibly Alaska. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of cowboys there who will meet at least two … err, one … of your criteria.

But I think what you’re really asking is how do you find yourself the right cowboy — the Roy Rogers to your Dale Evans. It comes down to two things: numbers and expectations. And luck. Ok, that’s three things. And I reckon they are pretty much the same three things for men and women of any age.

The numbers are easy and in our favor. According to reliable sources (the Internets) there are about 6.8 billion people crowding up the planet which means meeting someone is pretty easy — just walk out your door. Most people don’t want to just meet just anybody, however, they want to meet someone special, someone who makes their heart simultaneously ache and sing. That’s a whole different critter.

To meet the right person, first you got to figure out what sort of person that is, and then you need to be somewhere folks like that tend to congregate. If you like cowboys, for example, you should go to rodeos and bring beer. If you like outdoorsy types, try hiking. And if you like artists, go to fast food restaurants where they are likely taking your order … or maybe some poetry readings at your local coffee shops.

The trick is to know exactly what you’re looking for in a person and then not let those preconceptions blinder you, because life is never gonna give you exactly what you want. I’m reminded of this fellow I knew a few years back. He moved out here from back east planning on striking it rich prospecting for gold. He bought him some claims and spent a few years scrabbling around in the dirt looking for nuggets. He never found any and ended up flat busted and headed home to Baltimore with his tail between his legs. A few months later, a friend of mine bought them claims on the cheap and be damned if he didn’t find the tailings all full of fire opal that the other fellow had been tossing away as useless rocks.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that no matter your age, if you want to find the right someone, first you need to be out in the world where that person is likely to be (they won’t be stopping by your house out of the blue) and then you’ve got to keep your eyes open because you never know what you may overlook along the way. The world is full of pretty good partners that, with a little time and effort, could turn out to be fire opals or maybe even gold nuggets.

Remember, the numbers are on your side but taking advantage of them is up to you. All you need is a little luck and, if you’re truly interested in catching a real cowboy, don’t forget that six pack of beer.

Dear Cowboy,


Do cowboys drive stakes or steaks into the hearts of vampires?

Thanks for the question, Scott. Based on my own experiences, I think it’s safe to say I’ve staked a claim on the heart of my vampire. And we have been known to enjoy a few steaks together, though she likes hers a might on the rare side for my taste. However, I’ve met my share of vampires I’m not particularly fond of and I’d drive a freight train full of pointy wooden stakes right through the middle of ‘em if I could.

Dear Cowboy,

I’ve been dating my own “cowboy” for awhile and we’ve fallen in love. I always knew he was a man of few words, but as it gets more serious, I find myself prying for expressions of love in ways that often lead to his frustration with me. He says, “How can you not know how much I love you?” But there are no adoring letters, no long conversations into the night, and no grand expressions of love. I guess my question is – is he telling me things through his being there that I can’t hear because I’m looking for poetry?

Dear Over-analyzing City Girl Dating a Cowboy: I can see how getting only silence when you are expecting love sonnets could be disappointing. Expectations can be slippery and unpredictable little critters.

I’m reminded of the time I rode up to investigate a cow carcass way up in the most remote part of the ranch. I wanted to find out what had done her in, so I kept nudging my horse, Coffee, up closer and closer figuring I’d take a quick look and then be on my way back home and expecting my fool of a horse to oblige. You may not know this about horses, but they aint overly fond of dead things and apparently Coffee was expecting a much different outcome. Just about the time I kicked and prodded and cussed him up close enough I could see things, this big old turkey buzzard hopped out from under the rib cage, spread its wings out wide and kind of croaked at us.

Needless to say, we were both considerably surprised. That damn old horse took off up the side of the canyon and lost me after no more than two hundred yards. I went tumbling ass over tea kettle through a patch of prickly pear cactus while he thundered off into the distance. I ended up limping home with more needles in me than a pincushion. Along the way, I had plenty of time to think about how my expectations had betrayed me. The horse, on the other hand, expected something bad and knew exactly what to do when it happened. That’s why I found him eating contentedly next to the barn by the time I got home.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that there’s nothing wrong with having expectations, everybody has them, but they aren’t always mutually beneficial. The only way to make sure your significant other knows you need something a little different now and again is to tell them. Otherwise, you’ve got two sets of thinking working independently of each other and just waiting for the vultures to show up. Communicating is the only way to make sure your expectations and your partners expectations can meet in the middle.

In the example I mentioned, Coffee did a pretty good job telling me what his expectations were … I just didn’t listen very well. Now, if you’re doing your part to share what you need with your guy, and he’s hearing you and doing his part to try and meet your needs, even if he’s only able to come part of the way, well, that sounds like true love to me. If he aint listening at all, or he aint trying at all, well that’s another story and it don’t have a happy ending. But my suspicion is that if your fellow was the kind of guy capable of bringing the poetry and glib declarations of love on a regular basis, well, he probably wouldn’t be the person you fell for in the first place.

Dear Cowboy,

Does your hat ever come off?

Thanks for your question, Alan. Broadly speaking, my hat comes off in one of four situations:

1) In church which, these days, is limited pretty much to weddings and funerals. I’ve never been much on believing in higher powers nor ghosts of any kind, but I do believe it’s fitting to pay respect to another man’s beliefs. I’d take my hat my hat off just the same whether it’s for the pope or the Buddha.

2) In the shower – for obvious reasons.

3) To show proper respect for old glory.

4) In bed. That can be for sleeping, of course, or hopefully for other things, but lately that second scenario is pretty rare.

I don’t want you thinking I wear the hat because I’m losing my hair either. It’s slipping a little for sure, but every one of those hairs was lost in the pursuit of some worry or another, or from hard work — and I aint ashamed of either. I started wearing a hat when I was eleven and it’s such a part of me now, I reckon I’d feel naked without it.

And don’t even get me started on how to figure out which one to wear. I’ve got dress hats and work hats and summer and winter models – plus there’s a whole ranking system. It’s complicated. You’ve heard folks say that so and so wears a lot of hats? Well, I reckon they were speaking about a cowboy.

Hankering for more Cowboy wisdom? Check out my round-up aka the archives.