Word: pickup
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...Federal Government--a distant imperial power to many locals. Ranching and mining are major industries, and both are feeling persecuted lately by certain cosmopolitan outsiders. In Eureka the taverns sell a T shirt bearing the words WRANGLERS: WESTERN RANCHER AGAINST NO GOOD LIBERAL ENVIRONMENTALIST S___HEADS. The pickup trucks sport a proud, defensive bumper sticker: IF IT WASN'T GROWN, IT HAD TO BE MINED. In a region where people's lives are dominated by forces beyond their power to influence--the swings of the metals market, the grazing policies of the Bureau of Land Management, the caprices...
...Here a gawky newborn nuzzles its mother; there a fetal head and two hooves peek from the hindquarters of a cow that's ambling, wholly unconcerned, through the field. Sage grouse--a preposterously showy endangered species--strut and preen on the hillside. While Duane tours the scene in his pickup, his son Brad works from the saddle of a quarter horse. They stop to watch as a cow lies down, her calf beginning to emerge. Finally, with perfect timing and great effort, the cow clambers to her feet and lets gravity deliver the newborn. It is motionless. Duane watches closely...
...have envisioned--had they had the imagination to conceive that a rodent the size of a can of tennis balls could embroil Hutchinson in its most explosive animal-rights debate since last summer. (That was when a dog was accidentally dragged down Main Street from the back of a pickup truck.) The ruckus erupted earlier this year when the city decided that a patch of grass at the back of the fairgrounds was perfect for building two new practice baseball diamonds. Perfect, at least, until Bill Moyer, Hutchinson's parks superintendent, spotted about 75 squirrelly brown mammals popping...
...widely accepted. But later generations, at least those come of age after the unavoidable 1964 Surgeon General's report, found a different reason: because it was cool and widely reviled. Smoking today fits perfectly into the honored tradition of American individualism, a tradition as endemic as baseball or pickup trucks. We smokers like to think that when that paradigmatic American Huck Finn lit out for the territory...
Every son wants such a father, every father such a son. Dad in this case is tall, good-looking Clyde Latham, 87, who lives in the dried-up little West Texas town of Spur (pop. 1,300), where the tumbleweed can outnumber the pickup trucks and the restaurant of choice is the local Dairy Queen. The son is Aaron Latham, 53, a Manhattan-based novelist and screenwriter (Urban Cowboy) and, child of Texas that he is, a splendid raconteur...