Wasting my life one day at a time...

Yeee Haw! If you're a fan of turquoise Wranglers and big pink cowboy hats, then you're in luck. The rodeo opened last night and runs until the 24th of July, where a new Miss Rodeo Utah will be crowned right here in Ogden. If you're into tacky sequined blouses, Vaseline-coated friction-free smiles, and tight Wrangler bums, don't miss the pageant.

But for you real men out there who think picking on helpless animals in public is courageous, don't miss "the greatest show on dirt," the actual rodeo itself. Since my parents have volunteered on the rodeo commission for years, I've been privileged to soak up the subtleties of this most American of sports. For you rodeo rookies, here's a list of what to expect in no particular order:

• Mutton bustin' - Where young children attempt to ride wild sheep and usually end up in tears. The kids, not the sheep.
• Bronc' ridin' - Where cowboys attempt to ride wild bronocs, with and without saddles, for eight seconds. Basically, it's bullriding for pussies.
• Steer wrasslin' - Also called bulldoggin', where a cowboy leaps off a running horse and with any luck is impaled by a steer's horns trying to wrestle the animal to the ground.
• Barrel racin' - The only rodeo event for women, which basically means it sucks because no one gets trampled or gored.
• Calf ropin' - Where a cowboy lassos a baby cow at full run, causing the animal to flip painfully into the air and land in a heap, meanwhile, the heroic cowboy jumps off his horse and ties up at least three of its skinny legs. Six seconds is a good time.
• Team ropin' - Basically the same event as calf ropin' (see above) but with two cowboys, one trying to lasso the animal's head, the other aiming for the back legs. When done successfully, the cow will be rendered painfully immobile, much to the delight of the three tobacco spitting hicks who actually stick around long enough to watch this event.
• Bull ridin' - Where a cowboy tries to avoid breaking his jaw or sustaining massive internal bleeding while being thrown from 1,200 pounds of human-induced fury. You'd buck too if you had a leather belt tightened around your balls. Seeing the bullfighting clowns get gored while trying to save the cowboys is an entertaining side event.

As you can guess, PETA goes nuts every time the rodeo comes to town. The rodeo folks attempted (unsuccessfully) to dodge the PETA assault a few years ago by respectfully referring to their stock animals as "animal athletes." Thanks to PETA, the animals are treated better now, making rodeos much different from the ones I remember watching as a kid. The ropin' cows have to wear gay little neck protectors so they don't get rope burns, and you'll occasionally see a bull or bronc with a taped-up hoof or leg, just like real athletes. With the new neck protectors, I can just imagine the conversations that take place in the holding pens:

Cow 1: "Oh Walter, that new neck protector you're wearing is smashing! You must give me the designer's name before my next noonfall tea."

Cow 2: "Why thank you Gertrude, but the color is all wrong for my pasty complexion and stubby horns. I'd gladly trade it for the one Madeline is wearing."

Cow 3: "Pish posh Walter. You look devastating in that dashing frock. Why, my debutante daughter would go mad for a foppish dandy like yourself."

I know what you're thinking. Why do the cows in my imagination act and talk like Victorian-era English elitists? The answer to that is simple, yet profound. Cows don't talk, so it's not really an issue.