A few days ago I made a blog post about my musing over a Cowboy Valkyrie, deciding that Nancy Callahan from Sin City fit the bill. Minutes after making the post I mentioned the topic to my wife, who said “Oh, you picked Salma Hayek, right?” Despite my cogent arguments that Jessica Alba’s turn as Nancy Callahan has certain operatic majesty that fits the bill, my lovely wife was certain that I had made the wrong choice. What do you think?
A few weeks ago I made a post about the Lives of the Cowboys radio show on National Public Radio’s Prairie Home Companion. The episode that I listened to that day involved Lefty and Dusty on their way to renew their cowboy licenses, leading to Lefty testing his bar fighting skillz against a genuine Valkyrie. Since I started this blog, I have spent some time considering the shared roots of both the modern western novel and the modern fantasy novel in Germanic folklore. In time, I will dedicate a series of lofty and intellectual posts to that very topic. For now, though, the notion of a Cowboy Valkyrie and a Wild West Valhalla have captured my mind, particularly coming on the heels of my own recent brush with mortality.
So when cowboy meets his maker, is thrown from his horse, meets the wrong end of a noose, is snake bit, scalped, shot in a range war, stabbed in a saloon brawl, freezes in Blue Norther, succumbs to a case of gentleman’s complaint after engaging the wrong soiled dove, or any of the other honorable ways that a cowpoke can pass, who descends from the heavens to measure his worth?
Clearly, the only answer is Nancy Callahan from Sin City. Not surprising to find the Valkyrie here, as Viking references are spread throughout all the original comics. Normally I would choose the visual of the comics versions over film versions, but Jessica Alba really defines Nancy Callahan. If I lay dying, breathing my last breath out on the prairie, let’s hope its Nancy Callahan who ropes me and guides me to Valhalla.
National Public Radio is a constant in my home on the weekends, and once Car Talk and Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me play, the radio just stays on through Prairie Home Companion. It’s a show that I find annoying as often as I find it interesting, but one recurring sketch that always gets me is Lives of the Cowboys.
Lives of the Cowboys is about two middles aged, English major cowboys, Lefty and Dusty, who ride across the wide open prairie ruminating on love, life, and the difficulty of being liberal cowboys. In a recent episode, the two cowboys were riding into Texas to renew their cowboy license, which apparently modern cowboys must do every ten years.
“What are you worried about, Dusty?” asked Lefty.
“I’m worried about riding into to Texas with a guy named Lefty carrying an ACLU card!” said Dusty.
“Don’t worry, Dusty, ACLU is my Arizona Cowboy Life Underwriting policy card.”
Once in Texas, the two line up for their cowboy tests, consisting of the "Six S"es- Sweat, Spit, Saunter, Squat, Stand Your Ground, and Saloon Fight. All goes well until Lefty hits Saloon Fight, at which point he comes face to face with an honest to god Valkyrie, complete with a winged helmet, breast plate, and mad mezzo soprano opera skillz. Mayhem and lust ensue, as it often does, leaving Lefty with a broken heart.
There is something great about introspective, literate, hetero life mate cowboys riding the range, talking philosophy, and getting into adventures. In fact, gather round the fire, younker, and let me tell you about the time that Thomas Jefferson and me invaded England…
