by Ben Lewis

Created on: June 27, 2008

TEX

It was a Saturday afternoon early when I got to town and my mission was to pick up the wife from the hair styling salon across the street. I was driving the motor home because the Corvette was still at the dealer awaiting parts. Oh, I guess I could have driven the station wagon but it doesn't have an air conditioner and the weather is typically warm in April here in Kissimmee, Florida.

This entire experience might never have occurred if it hadn't been for two parking spaces, end-to-end, smack in front of The Cow Palace Pool Room & Pub.

Time was that Kissimmee was the leading cow town in Florida, the hub, as it were of the cattle industry which is much more prominent here than most people realize. Kissimmee is (pronounced ka SEM me. Not KISS uh me, as the tourists say.) It's a Seminole Indian word and I'd like to tell you what it means but frankly, I don't know. I doubt though that it has anything to do with kissing.

To most tourists, the city of Kissimmee is significant primarily because of its proximity to Disney World. That is abrasive to some of us long-time residents who believe that our town has its own reasons for being which antedate that theme park. It's nothing new to native Floridians to have our topography, economy, and values changed by the arrival of some tourist trap. Feelings are mixed and so are the two cultures, which have nevertheless coexisted for generations here.

The first time I saw the man, he was sitting on a bench in front of The Cow Palace, smoking Camels and honing his pocketknife on his "rough out" western boots. I was captivated by the look of him. He had to be well into his sixties and he was dressed head to foot in western garb. He wore those khaki trousers with pocket flaps fitted with mother of pearl snaps and of course a wide belt with a heavy buckle and a long sleeve shirt with shoulder yoke of a different color and the same flaps and snaps. He also wore a western hat but it was not the big "ten-gallon" type, rather it was a smallish model, meticulously shaped in that characteristic way that says, "western".

While waiting for my wife to emerge from the hair salon I had ample time to study him. I had a newspaper draped across the steering wheel and this served as a sort of blind, and my sunglasses further equipped me with the means of surveilling without the appearance of rudeness.

He sat with his narrow butt resting on the edge of the bench and his shoulders against the backrest and his rawhide booted feet were crossed on the

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