Distinctly Montana Magazine

36 D I S T I N C T LY M O N TA N A M A G A Z I N E • S P R I N G 2 0 2 4 dervish. Yes, it is true that there are lots of things I still want out of life: to be a millionaire, to then become a billionaire, then to subsequent- ly become the world's first trillionaire, and finally to own both an RV and a yacht or two. Personally, I don't think that's too much to ask. Yet, the older I get, the more I'm willing to settle for a baker's gross more of those special hugs. As for my wife, I'd settle for the admission that I'm not always an idiot. "Hey Buck," I said to him last night. "Which is better: a life of responsi- bility, or a life like yours, unencumbered by obligations?" Buck Bronco is too independent to render an answer, so I have to an- swer for him. If I allow myself to put myself in Buck's cowboy boots, the first thing I notice is not relief from familial duties. I imagine that Buck Bronco is actually a little sad. He has spent the last dozen years or so watching the Shelton family gather around the hearth, eat meals together, celebrate holidays and birthdays, get ready for church, come home exhausted from band recitals and wrestling matches and football games. He's wit- nessed all the stuff I've tried not to take for granted—moments when my little guys still allow themselves some affection for their old man. He's had to watch as my kids go from adorably snot-nosed little rugrats to fine young men of which anyone sane and equipped with a heart would be proud. Maybe that's what Buck Bronco wants, secretly, from his perch above the coffee table: a few ties to bind him. It could just be that Buck Bronco is jealous of me. "You want to trade, Buck?" I asked him last week, as I was chewing these thoughts over in my mind. Buck stayed silent, apparently unable to admit, even to himself, that being a fat, middle-aged (let's be honest, late middle-aged) husband and father might be more desirable than being an immovable metallic cowboy. That what is lacking from his rigid and static life is some of the warmth which, if I am honest with myself, suffuses mine. In moments like these I understand how lucky I really am. Though I might not have BUCK STAYED SILENT, APPARENTLY UNABLE TO ADMIT, EVEN TO HIMSELF, THAT BEING A FAT, MIDDLE-AGED (LET'S BE HONEST, LATE MIDDLE-AGED) HUSBAND AND FATHER MIGHT BE MORE DESIRABLE THAN BEING AN IMMOVABLE METALLIC COWBOY.

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