Have you ever noticed how bad luck always travels in threes? I’m warning you, if the cows get out on the road and then the water well goes dry, I’d stay in the house, pull your shades and not answer the phone if I were you. Be very, very careful.

I’ve learned a few things from cows and cowboys over the years, such as good veterinarians are hardly ever on time.

Ranch brandings in the future will take on an all-new look thanks to squeamish animal rightists who get ill just thinking about all the despicable things we do to our animals to keep them healthy and safe. PETA and their ilk want you to treat your cattle like humans.

The soundtrack of my life has been the chant of an auctioneer. In the past 43 years, I have attended thousands of auctions and have seen auctions from every angle as a consignor, buyer, ring man, clerk, auctioneer, gate man and announcer of a video auction company for 20 years that sold nearly half-a-million head per year.

“Why are you walking with a limp?” I asked my friend ReRide. “It’s a long story. Basically, it’s because Honey Bunch and Archibald came for their annual visit.” “That’s your sister-in-law and her wimpy third husband, isn’t it?”

Every year, my in-laws make it a point to invite someone to Christmas dinner who is poor, downtrodden and an outcast from society. Usually it’s me, so it’s no surprise when I receive a polite request every year to drive five hours one way to attend their annual Christmas feast.

I was sifting through the rubbish and rubble of our lives because my wife said I had to start throwing away some of my valuable junk. It’s pretty depressing when you look back on your life and realize it can be summed up in 23 apple boxes.

I love art, and the walls of my home are covered with it. I’m talking real art, not that abstract/impressionism garbage like the stuff shown at a modern art show in New York years ago where the judges accidentally gave “Best In Show” to an air conditioning vent that wasn’t even entered in the competition.

I don’t do meetings because once you’ve been to an FFA meeting, everything else is amateur hour. Attend any meeting today, and you’ll see folks holding a discussion without a motion on the floor, no flag salute and no knowledge whatsoever of Robert’s Rules of Order.

It seems like if you are anyone of significance these days, you simply must have your very own personal assistant. You know, someone to organize your closet, wrap your packages, run your errands, manage your life, pay your bills and offer lifestyle advice.