Over the next 2 days, we spent our time in Fort Worth, gaping at the Kimbell art museum and the Fort Worth Modern Museum of Art, paying homage to their architects- Lois Kahn and Tadao Ando. Although both buildings are wonderful, Ando’s ‘museum on the water,’ was no match for the Kimbell. The Kimbell possessed such refined details in its design, its simple parti, legible rhythms, and most strikingly, its modest sale. Perhaps the most interesting thing I found there aside from the building was the original- The Torment of Saint Anthony, believed to be the first known painting from Michelangelo dating back to 1487-88. The content of the painting seemed to differ so wildly from the early portraits and landscapes that told the story of Europe so many many years ago. It's colors and detail left a lasting impression on me even though the painting itself wasn't much bigger than a sheet of printer paper. 
In stark contrast to the intimate corridors at the Kimbell, the size of the Modern seemed almost excessive and vault-like. Modern art has always pushed its boundaries, leaving most people arguing that an entire canvas painted white is not art. In such a place, keeping an open mind is key and I still feel that- like in design- the value lies in the impact it has on the viewer. The building itself was an impressive mass of concrete, glass, and steel that all seemed to float on its pond; an oasis in the bustling urban center of Fort Worth.That night we stayed with some distant relatives of mine- my Great Aunt Mildred and Great Uncle Frank and their children and grandchildren whom I had never met. Excited to see us, we were welcomed with an unusual dish known as "Eggs Aspic" and some welcome time to relax before the big family dinner.
On the second day in town, we chanced into a tourist information center with a very outgoing clerk who managed to point us to a place in downtown Fort Worth where the main drag had maintained its wild west legacy to a theme park degree. We parked and changed into our cowboy/cowgirl finest (hiking boots and straw hats had to suffice, and ogled all of the beautifully wrought leather cowboy boots. Unfortunately all of which were well out of our price range- ($150 to $10,000.) Although the daily cattle drive through the streets was cancelled due to a wild thunderstorm, we had tickets to see the Friday night rodeo at the Stockyards, the oldest indoor rodeo in the world!
The rodeo was relatively small, but we didn’t know the difference, as it was our first one. Sam had seen barrel racing before, but the bull riding and roping competitions were new to both of us. The horses were beautiful in their purpose; strong, smart, and sturdy-not like the thoroughbred racing horses that we see on TV. The bulls were enormous and powerful, not to mention angry and confused. The combined smells of dirt, beer, and shit were a potent reminder that we were on the edge of cattle country. The rodeo was informal, loud, and clearly a community-based event. It was easy to imagine many high school teens taking their girlfriends to the rodeo as tickets were cheap and there was one held every Friday and Saturday night. Along with the bull riding, barrel racing, and roping, intermission events invited young children in the crowd to enter the arena for some friendly competition. A small calf was released into the arena with a ribbon tied to its tail when the screaming herd of children was unleashed on the terrified animal, trying to capture its ribbon.
As if that wasn’t funny enough, during the next break, the invitation came for ladies 18 and over to volunteer for some unknown competition. Thankfully, I was able to convince Sam to volunteer by force, and she was quickly chosen to join the festivities in front of a few hundred strangers. Having no idea what the competition involved, I was confident that she would out compete anybody else in the arena as she usually did. This was the beginning of trouble, but I didn’t know just how much. When she entered the arena, the announcer told the ladies that there was to be a dance off. At this point, I could feel the hole being burned into my head from my seat in the front row. When the music started, she danced to win-playing air guitar with her leg and doing the sprinkler all the while tripping over dirt clods. Then, claiming that the girls were all being too self-conscious, they blindfolded them and had them dance again. As she danced, they pulled the other girls out of the arena one by one until she was the only one left. Then, a “tie” was announced between her and another girl. Blindfolded and unaware that she was the only one left, she proceeded to dance through the tie breaker round AND the “sudden-death” tie breaker round that followed. When it was announced that she had won and she pulled the blindfold off to realize that she was the only one, I received a polite tap on the shoulder and the friendly advice that I had better start running. While she made her way back to her seat, I was halfway to the door trying to think of what I could bring her back to make up for the prize she didn’t receive for the dance-off. The giant beer I bought her managed to reduce my sentence to a swiftly bruised shoulder- but the fact remains that as in all things, my baby has no business in second place and I have the video to prove it!
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