Grew up in a town of 1500 people in Eastern Wyoming (or, as I often referred to it, Nebraska West). Least populated county seat in the least populated county in the last populated state in the United States.
I'm reformed cowboy. Grew up around the rodeo, and spent a glorious summer working on a ranch before high school. Going to brandings was frequent, as well as random calls from some of my rancher friends asking to go out and help move cattle or fix fence. All stuff I miss now that I live in the concrete jungle. I miss the prairie, but I'll get back to it all in due time.
For a while before high school, I was training to be a bulldogger, learning from a family friend who has had some great success as a professional rodeo cowboy. I gave that up after my hazer went to have a cup of tea during a run one day, and the steer wasn't there when I got down. Tore myself up reasonably well, and decided girls and guitars were a better idea. Wish I'd stuck with it, though.
I don't spend much time with a gun in my hands or worrying about trucks. Most of that stuff winds up coming off as pretty cartoonish to me anymore. Guns, trucks, horses, etc are all tools to a way of life, albeit ones I know and can handle just fine. However, they're all external, and no matter where I go, what I drive, or how I dress, I'm thoroughly aware that I'm from the prairie. If someone doesn't believe me because I don't cotton to camo or engage in the Ford v. Chevy debate, that's their issue, not mine.
Waylon Jennings > your favorite country artist. :P
"Always Believe." -The Ultimate Warrior