When I washed up the old Tundra last week I noticed a black sooty like residue coating the right front hub cap..., so I picked up a set of brake pads at the parts store in Forks on my weekly dump/grocery/mail/apple run. I probably should have picked up new rotors as well..., but I didn't want to make another run to town when I got around to replacing the pads..., and discovered how bad the rotor was damaged. I surmised that they probably only sell them in pairs..., and the drivers side was still as good as new..., so I figured that no more than I drive the old V-8 gas hog that I would be too damn old to do the job and would take it to a real auto repair shop when the time came to make the necessary repairs. Charlie Horse..., as usual..., was providing over the shoulder supervisory duties..., just like he did last week while I washed the old gal up. He was pretty disgusted with me regarding my thought process in that regard to installing new brake pads on a roughed up rotor..., and was even more disgusted when I couldn't figure out how to reinstall the spring clip thingy-maboby..., and he sent me back to the computer and YouTube..., and told me to pay close attention this time..., while he stood guard. The drivers side went a lot smoother..., and I expected some "good job" comments from Charlie..., but he just moseyed off without a word.
I wish my dear old departed Dad was still around to share my horse stories with..., especially Charlie Horse stories. Charlie is really my first horse. Oh..., we had a borrowed Welsh pony from Tuff Smolinski (whose name will come to me after I publish this 🥲)..., and our neighbors had a little pinto colored pony they let me name Shadow..., in our shared pasture for a couple of years..., that all us kids rode the snot out of. Then I got Scout..., a full size white horse for my birthday when I was 12 or 13 years old..., that looked a lot like the one Al-Boy is pictured on..., and I even won a few ribbons on him at the local gymkhana. The first place Pole Bending and the second place Barrel Racing were Scout and mine alone..., while the other two were team efforts..., one in a four horse Baton Race and one with my partner..., cousin Debbie Chapman (Smith now). She "rescued" me in the Rescue Race.
But after I got a driver's license and a motorcycle my horse days were pretty much over..., until Julie and I got together over in Forks. Her ex-husband gave her a couple of horses and our farrier gave her another horse..., but they really weren't mine..., like Charlie is. He is the first horse that I picked out and chose for myself..., so he is very special.
Just like my Dad..., That Good Lookin' Al Spence..., he has been gone now 17 years. It sure doesn't seem like that long ago. Here is a link to his obituary that I wrote back at the time...,
lhttps://scottrthequillayutecowboy.blogspot.com/2010/05/that-good-lookin-al-spence.html
His birthday would be a couple days away on the 23rd..., so I will dedicate this Friday Nite Music Video by Jackson Browne to the old cowboy...,
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