cyberdan (SoCA)
New member
Three strangers strike up a conversation in the passenger lounge in Bozeman Montana , while waiting for their respective flights...
[attachment 130559 1.JPG]
One is an American Indian passing through from Lame Deer, another is a Cowboy on his way to Billings for a livestock show and the third passenger is a fundamentalist Arab student, newly arrived at Montana State University from the Middle East .
Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon, the two Westerners learn that the Arab is a devout, radical Muslim and the conversation falls into an uneasy lull.
The cowboy leans back in his chair, crosses his boots on a magazine table, tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face, and lights a cigarette. The wind outside is blowing tumbleweeds around, and the old windsock is flapping; but still no plane comes.
Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly he speaks, 'At one time here... my people were many... but sadly, now we are few.'
[attachment 130560 2.JPG]
The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward,'Once my people were few,' he sneers, 'and now we are many. Why do you suppose that is?'
[attachment 130561 3.JPG]
The cowboy removes his cigarette from his mouth and from the darkness beneath his Stetson says in a smooth drawl . .. .
[attachment 130562 4.JPG]
'I reckon that's 'cause we ain't played Cowboys and Muslims yet,
But I do believe it's a-comin'.'
[attachment 130559 1.JPG]
One is an American Indian passing through from Lame Deer, another is a Cowboy on his way to Billings for a livestock show and the third passenger is a fundamentalist Arab student, newly arrived at Montana State University from the Middle East .
Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon, the two Westerners learn that the Arab is a devout, radical Muslim and the conversation falls into an uneasy lull.
The cowboy leans back in his chair, crosses his boots on a magazine table, tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face, and lights a cigarette. The wind outside is blowing tumbleweeds around, and the old windsock is flapping; but still no plane comes.
Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly he speaks, 'At one time here... my people were many... but sadly, now we are few.'
[attachment 130560 2.JPG]
The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward,'Once my people were few,' he sneers, 'and now we are many. Why do you suppose that is?'
[attachment 130561 3.JPG]
The cowboy removes his cigarette from his mouth and from the darkness beneath his Stetson says in a smooth drawl . .. .
[attachment 130562 4.JPG]
'I reckon that's 'cause we ain't played Cowboys and Muslims yet,
But I do believe it's a-comin'.'