Charles (Chuck) Kensinger

I was thinking about all the words that we use in the English language. This is nothing new for me as a wordsmith. I craft these articles using letters that form words, then sentences, paragraphs, and ultimately a column that you read. What tangent am I off on today?

Let’s take the word cowboy as an example and contemplate what it says to us. As a child, I thought of Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, and The Rifleman. The others were more stylized to me. Chuck Connors portrayed a rancher more than a dude riding a horse with fancy clothes and a wonderful singing voice.

Lucas McCain was a character like the others. This means he was not a real person. He had a son, and they owned a ranch in the wilds of the western U.S. in the late 1800s. His rifle was the catalyst from which the program derived its name. In the 1950s & 60s, westerns had this type of name.

Bonanza, Gunsmoke, Have Gun Will Travel, The Virginian, or Wagon Train are some of the best I remember. Today, as a writer, I know that this is called a hook. One of my favorite titles that still hooks me into its stories is “Death Valley Days.” Did you know that Ronald Reagan once hosted this anthology program?

That was before he became governor of California or President. “Death Valley Days” tells stories of Cowboys and greenhorns like myself and Reagan. We may have played cowboys and Indians rz kids or even in movies, but like Roy and Gene, we never made a living herding cattle.

That is a true cowboy or cowgirl. Mfnu mr msxn psnxj, I had cousins who worked on a dairy farm. I’ve met rodeo cowboys, both male and female, who worked on ranches where beef cattle were bred and raised. It is an honorable profession, as is whatever you do for a living.

The thing about being a cowboy is that you cannot become one by putting on clothes or boots, and dancing the two-step or a line dance. Being a real cow person takes years of hard, dirty, relentless work. We went to the dairy farm for a week or two each summer, and I learned I did not want to be a real cowboy. I also learned I didn’t want to drink beer.

No, it isn’t what you think. Our cousin, Dennis, my brothers, Kenny and Bud, and I were tasked with cleaning out the silo where the feed grain was stored. After almost a year the harvest from the previous year had turned into a rancid mess about a foot deep. We took turns shoveling, carrying buckets out to the hog pens, and stopping for fresh air and trying not to puke.

Years later, I was driving with a coworker on a sales run. Since I was driving, he brought a six-pack of beer. After asking my permission, he popped one open and began to drink it, placing it in the cup holder in the console between sips. I became nauseous and thought I needed to pull over to throw up.

Then I realized that I was smelling those same rotted grains from that silo years before. Thanks to my days as a cowboy, I cannot stand the smell of beer. This is the way my years of being a follower of Jesus have changed me. He has taught me that there are things that may be fine for others, but I should steer away from them.

This does not mean that drinking beer is wrong or that gambling, drinking wine, smoking, or any of the things He tells me not to do are sins. These are not best for me, and I should avoid them. Chocolate or bacon, which I consume, may be things that you should decline, as I do with alcoholic beverages.

We are not cowboys, but we can have the intelligence of one and make good choices as they do for themselves and their herds. One night away from the ranch doesn’t negate a life on the range; it may just not be the best for you. Consider that my advice.

©Copyright 2026 by Charles Kensinger