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We arrived in Jackson at night, so it was hard to appreciate the beauty of the Grand Tetons we were driving through. Instead, I got to experience a curvy mountain road while working on a computer with Ben behind the wheel. The darkness made it impossible to ‘concentrate on objects in the distance’ and prepare myself for the hard turns we were taking. It took me until well after dinner in Jackson to feel like I was back on solid ground.

The night brought us to the Midnight Cowboy, a local Jackson hotspot that made us feel like out-of-towners not because we were in the minority without cowboy hats, but because we did not aggressively seek out dance partners from the crowd. Since it’s the offseason, the 18-25 year old ski bum demographic had not yet arrived, so the locals ran the show. Ben, Matt, and I watched in awe as the local cowboys dominated the dance floor.

My favorite cowboy looked to be about 55, had a full beard, a nice black cowboy hat, and a red plaid flannel shirt. Classic cowboy image. He also had no shame. For a span of five songs, I observed his routine. He’d ask a girl (typically half his age) to dance to the live band, then as a song ended, he’d invite her to the bar for a drink. Then she’d leave him hanging and he’d restart the cycle with another unassuming woman. On his third round (of the rounds I’d seen), he plucked a 22-year old girl* from our table and took her onto the dance floor. They danced for two songs and went to the bar for a drink before she returned to our table. This guy’s matured confidence was impressive, despite the latent intentions.

(*Ben saw this girl, Katie, near the entrance of the saloon and immediately recognized her from elementary school back east. She had been on the road for two months exploring the southern deserts with her friend Casey. Small world.)

In a way, he had an approach that reminded me of the older men I’ve seen swarming around girls my age in the New York or Boston night scene. Only those guys perfectly grease their hair, often wear sunglasses even though it’s dark, have jeans distressed by the manufacturer, and Gucci loafers. Surprisingly, their female attraction process is the similar.

So what does this similarity say or mean? Probably nothing. And as my friend Morgan says, ‘when all is said and done, sometimes you can search too hard. Sometimes there’s not a deep meaning to everything. Sometimes Sex and the City can just be watched for entertainment value, and other times you can just want to date someone because he lights you up; sometimes there aren’t answers to the questions…things just exist as truth and you delve into them as needed and not because you need to question everything. If you question everything in life you take away the mystery of it all…and isn’t the mystery want keeps us ticking?

Well said, and I can’t agree with her more, but I’m on a trip where we’re seeing different communities, cultures, and people in a short amount of time, so it’s hard not to make comparisons and contrasts in an effort to find a theme. As mundane as the similarity seems to be between the Jackson cowboy and the city guy – maybe we can call them ‘urban cowboys’, it still serves as evidence of a connection between two very different types of people, which is interesting to me. Maybe there are some common themes we’ll see around the country - regardless of where we are or who we’re with? I guess time will tell.

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