NB: How did you come to be at the park?
Hat: Oh, the community council rallied around, and got us moved here since we were such a big part of the neighborhood. It’s not as exciting as our gas station days, but it smells better. Except when we get a strong breeze from the South—that “Aroma of Tacoma”, you know.
Boots: Yeah, we get to watch the playground, and people garden in the P-patch over there. We get to watch our neighbors live their lives. It’s peaceful, not much traffic, although a bit boring sometimes.
NB: That does sound like a nice retirement. So you two are cowboys? Are you more John Wayne or Clint Eastwood? Sorry, do you know those actors?
Hat: I’m more into muscle cars than horses or cows, to be honest.
Boots: And I’m not a racist. We know who those actors are. People used to talk about them all the time. Cowboys. Ha! Real cowboys worked hard. And a lot of them were Native, Black, Mexican—there were white cowboys too, don’t get me wrong, but it was a hard job, and the ones who did it weren’t perfectly styled sons o’ guns like those movie guys. If either one of them had to do what real cowboys did, they’d last about five minutes. [kicks dirt]
NB: I see. Apologies for implying that you are a fictitious symbol of Manifest Destiny. Not my intention.
Hat: Ooooh. You had to get him started on Hollywood cowboy lore. He won’t stop talking about that for weeks now.
NB: Let’s change the subject. You two watched over the Old Pacific Highway for over 30 years. What are some of your favorite memories?
Hat: Well, like I said before. I really enjoy looking at those sweet little muscle cars. That 1970 Chevelle purred like a panther in heat, I’ll tell you. I love a Firebird Trans Am too. Those curves, the hood flames, the speed of those things—woo boy!
Boots: Oh great, he’s going to be pretending to drive, making different car noises for at least a week now. Thanks for that. [huffs in annoyance]
Hat: If I have to listen to you bloviate about “real” cowboys, then you can listen to my car impressions. You have to admit, I’m good at ‘em. I know all the great car sounds, and can still identify them from miles away.
Boots: Oh he can. And does, even when I tell him to cut it out. And by the way, Hat, it’s not like you couldn’t stand to learn a thing or two about history.
Hat: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know it all by now, don’t I? 70 years together and you repeat the same damn facts every chance you get. No one’s learning squat from you, you just like to hear yourself talk, Boots, and that’s the truth.
Boots: Well, I’m surprised that you’re a head accessory, since you’re such an ass—
