In an email exchange, a friend who is attending the Cowboy Poetry Festival in Elko Nevada, mentioned that she is staying at the Stockman’s Hotel.
“I’m assuming that’s not a name that was decided on by a marketing agency, so I’m bracing myself for lots of weak coffee, overfluffed potatoes, and modern day stockmen,” she wrote.
Larry replied, “Times have changed. You might find that today’s stockmen drink green tea and go to morning yoga classes.”
On the same day, the NY Times headline read: Continue reading “Of stockmen and stock markets”