Last night when hubby got home, he mentioned that our new 21-year-old was going to a place called The 8 Seconds Saloon. He thought it would be humorous if we showed up and crashed the party.
So the cowgirl in me rose up and hollered "YES!"
I also warned him that I planned to ride the mechanical bull. In return, he tried to warn me that, well, I'm not as young as I used to be, and I could break a hip or something.
But I ain't skeered. I even rode before my 21-year-old did, presumably because he wanted me to wear the bull out before he got on.
I rode that bull, yessiree. For at least 8 seconds, but it's hard to count seconds when adrenaline is rushing through your body, you can't breathe, and you are focused on not falling off of a moving object. Determined not to be thrown, I was also focused on my dismount, and during a quiet moment from the bull, I seized my opportunity, dismounting on the right the way you're supposed to, so your left hand won't get caught up in the rigging. I stuck that dismount without even a bobble. Almost threw my hands up like a 13-year-old gymnast, but figured I'd already made enough of a fool of myself.
Fortunately for you, there are no photos. I did a search on youtube for "old lady riding mechanical bull" and I wasn't there. But through the magic that is youtube, I give you what I would have looked like if I had ridden a mechanical bull 29 years ago: