Last night, right there in the downtown skywalks, my husband 'slapped the bull' by singing out loud. And he was very proud of himself,too.
A few years ago a movie came out called Wild Hogs. One hilarious experience after another happens on this reclaiming-their-youth trip with John Travolta, Martin Lawrence, Tim Allen and William H. Macey as they traverse the pavement through the country.
At one stop, they are at a ranch standing at the corral. The rancher tells them that to prove their manly strength and prowess, they should go into the bull pen and slap the bull on the rear end and then try to high tail it out of the corral before the bull can trample them. Sounds like great fun, right?
The guys look at each other and shake their heads. No way are they going into the bull pen and slapping the bull on the behind! I won't give away the rest of the story, but lets just say that a couple of the guys try it with hilarious results. For them, slapping the bull symbolized doing something wild and crazy. Something that they wouldn't ordinarily do. Something that might be fun, but it also might be a bit risky. (for us, singing in the skywalks is a little risky...)
For some reason the term "slap the bull" has stuck with my husband and me since we watched that silly movie. Now, we are not huge risk takers. For some of you 'slapping the bull' might be rock climbing in the Rockies or jumping out of an airplane.
For my husband last night, slapping the bull was to sing the Iowa State fight song loud in the skywalks while we were on our walk. It was after hours when most people were home eating dinner so this wasn't too risky. Except for the one man who was walking towards us. After the guy passed us I chided my hubby for being loud in the skywalks. He quickly reminded me that he had just slapped the bull, and wasn't I impressed that he slapped the bull right there in the skywalks? In front of one guy? Okay, underneath my eye-rolling, I was secretly happy that he had slapped the bull in front of that one guy.
No matter the number on the level-of-risk meter, the point is we have this silly little thing. This kind of not-so-inside anymore inside joke between us.
It's really just an ordinary Tuesday, but tonight we're headed to a bluegrass musical Christmas show. That bull is really gonna be hurtin'.
A few years ago a movie came out called Wild Hogs. One hilarious experience after another happens on this reclaiming-their-youth trip with John Travolta, Martin Lawrence, Tim Allen and William H. Macey as they traverse the pavement through the country.
At one stop, they are at a ranch standing at the corral. The rancher tells them that to prove their manly strength and prowess, they should go into the bull pen and slap the bull on the rear end and then try to high tail it out of the corral before the bull can trample them. Sounds like great fun, right?
The guys look at each other and shake their heads. No way are they going into the bull pen and slapping the bull on the behind! I won't give away the rest of the story, but lets just say that a couple of the guys try it with hilarious results. For them, slapping the bull symbolized doing something wild and crazy. Something that they wouldn't ordinarily do. Something that might be fun, but it also might be a bit risky. (for us, singing in the skywalks is a little risky...)
 |
| Us on our Minnesota vacation |
For my husband last night, slapping the bull was to sing the Iowa State fight song loud in the skywalks while we were on our walk. It was after hours when most people were home eating dinner so this wasn't too risky. Except for the one man who was walking towards us. After the guy passed us I chided my hubby for being loud in the skywalks. He quickly reminded me that he had just slapped the bull, and wasn't I impressed that he slapped the bull right there in the skywalks? In front of one guy? Okay, underneath my eye-rolling, I was secretly happy that he had slapped the bull in front of that one guy.
No matter the number on the level-of-risk meter, the point is we have this silly little thing. This kind of not-so-inside anymore inside joke between us.
It's really just an ordinary Tuesday, but tonight we're headed to a bluegrass musical Christmas show. That bull is really gonna be hurtin'.
No comments:
Post a Comment