Personal Narrative: My Long And Green Cattle Truck

are "I'm coming at you like a dark horse." The figurative language in this song is

because they were the cows I herded and without them I wouldn’t have a job

In the opening scene of Jane Martin’s “Rodeo,” there are many stereotypical props used to portray the beer-drinking, hard-working, cowboy image with the characteristic country music playing as an added touch. Most people are familiar with this type of scene in their minds, with a man as the character, but not this time – we find a tough, smart, opinionated woman with a distinctively country name of Lurlene, and the typical cowboy kind of nickname, Big Eight. The reader will dive deeper into the true character of this unusual woman and realize that she is no different from the average woman in today’s workforce. She is feeling the frustration of discrimination and the push out of the only lifestyle that she knows, by “Them” (1667).

In Flaming Iguanas the road is presented as a means of escape and reassertion. Tomato escapes domestication, common societal beliefs that are placed on women. As a bisexual, chicano woman on the road she is transgressing heteronormativity. In previous road novels the road is a place for white hetero-men having an adventure. Tomato exercises her new found identity when she consummates with the Canadian John, challenging double standards that are placed on women. She writes “if you’re a woman traveling alone people will instantly want to kill you”, she is not scared to challenge these myths and exercise her freedom, as a woman on the road (111). As a pioneer in heteronormativity, she has set a path in which she does not conform to society 's ideals, ultimately mending gender norms for others. The road novels are usually dominated by men and their adventures, causing havoc on everywhere they set foot. As a

On my way to one of the greatest concerts, thoughts were swirling around my head. How good will this really be? Will I make it out alive tonight? Was it worth the wait? The thought that the next highly anticipated song that plays may cause a riot so large it ends my life. I soon found out after I entered the House of Blues, or rather, as I prepared to enter The Rodeo.

HONK! HONK! HONK! WEE WOO WEE WOO WEE WOO! VROOM VROOM! These are all of the sounds I heard during my experience at the Touch-A-Truck across from Columbus East. Other than the constant noises of sirens, honking and revving of vehicles, the day was pretty great. Working with the kids was awesome, getting to see them in a nontraditional classroom setting and seeing there more wild and fun sides. The kids that I worked with included, William, Brian, Jamieelyn and NAME. William was the more quiet type, but also needed lots of attention to stay alert and willing to participate. Brian did not like to walk at the same pace as us and also just wanted to play in the dirt or whatever he could find on the ground. Both of the boys acted very tired and

It all started on one hot summer day riding in the Jeep with the whole family, windows were down and laughter was floating freely through the air. I can still remember it like it was yesterday; the temperature was about 87 degrees and the humidity wasn’t bad at all. As we were driving down the road, the top down on the Jeep and the radio playing as loud as it could go, my favorite song came on the radio, “Ride the Wind” by Poison. It is so amazing and it always helps when that right songs comes on the radio which sets the mood for the rest of the day. We even had our 6 year old dog with us. He’s always content with his head sticking out the back glass and his ears flopping in the warm breeze.

I fired up the old Dodge. After a few turns of the key she coughed and sputtered then RRROOOMMM - she rumbled to life. It was a two and a half hour drive to Houston where the march against the government’s ‘mandatory acquisition’ of property to build an oil pipeline was being held...but my eyesight isn’t what it used to be, so it took me over

“You’ve lost your mind. That meek little thing can’t be the warrior princess the song speaks of. And didn’t you notice, little brother, her eyes are brown. I’m sure she has dark hair, too, just like all the southwest Zoner’s do. Not like you can ever tell with the way the girls all cover their head.”

She only found the sign funny because of the circumstances. They had been driving for what felt like days, occasionally stopping at a few crowded fast food restaurants when the hunger grew unbearable. Their car rolled through small town after small town, but Jazz had not seen any signs of humanity since they left a gas station a while ago. Seas of corn stretched beyond the vehicle,

After receiving a signal from the driver of a scorching red pickup truck, I crossed the street. This vehicle stood out as it leisurely passed the speed bumps on its colossal tires.

It must have hurt her to see me day after day walking in the heat and looking very much like a dirty Mexican to the many minds that didn't know what it meant to work at hard labor. That woman knew. Her eyes met mine as she opened the car door, and there was tenderness that was surprisingly true--one for which you wait for years but when it comes it doesn't help. Nothing changes. You continue on in rags, with the sun still above you (93).

In the opening scene of Jane Martin's "Rodeo," there are many stereotypical props used to portray the beer-drinking, hard-working, cowboy image with the characteristic country music playing as an added touch. Most people are familiar with this type of scene in their minds, with a man as the character, but not this time – we find a tough, smart, opinionated woman with a distinctively country name of Lurlene, and the typical cowboy kind of nickname, Big Eight. The reader will dive deeper into the true character of this unusual woman and realize that she is no different from the average woman in today's workforce. She is feeling the frustration of discrimination and the push out of the only lifestyle that she knows, by "Them" (1667).

I would walk behind her, that road every Saturday afternoon with a smell in my nostrils from my father business of fresh gasoline and the sound of motorcycle rumbling in the street like some kind of fairy beast, I looked at the sky, blue with such a pure color of white clouds reminded me of cotton candy, I thanked God for another beautiful day.

It all looked the same to her. The muddy people, the dirt roads and the sea of green. A cow passed by on the dirt road, it’s tail swishes back and forth like the orange glow of a cigarette. He didn’t know how to tell her that he didn’t know, letting pride sit in place of false memories.