Protestin’ Rodeo Hos

Friday, my friends Lori, Karma and Casey and I went out and protested the rodeo for a few hours. Casey is like the Demo God (not demi, demo), as he is tireless in his outreach and effort for animals. He is what we wish we could be – completely immersed – yet still fully functioning in the workplace and society. It was just the four of us for a while and then a fifth showed up – Song – I believe her name was. We got called whores by a delightful older woman in a diesel spewing truck who felt it necessary to hang wildly out of her car and scream at the top of her lungs from four lanes away on the opposite side of the street.
Our response?
Ears cupped..what? What’s that you say, duckie? Can’t hear you.
Veins were protruding.
Very satisfying.
We got some thumbs up. We got some thumbs down. We got honks. We got jeers. We got the standard “get a life” or “get a job”.
I am always surprised by the general freaking out of usually older people mostly men. It upsets them deeply seeing me and my whore-ish, lifeless, jobless friends standing quietly with our signs of information. No chanting. No mutilated exaggerations. Just facts.
Go Rodeo! WOOOHOOO! The maniacal man in his Stetson screeches like a grouchy old woman.
We had one guy with eyes that were a bit crazy come up to us and say:
“You know they’re all gonna die anyway, right?”

What an odd statement. Aren’t we all? Does that warrant torture for personal entertainment? It’s kind of like the other one:
“They’re born and raised to be killed.”

Huh.

Well, again, aren’t we all born to die?
Does this somehow sanction torture? Because that’s what it is. These animals are tortured. They have no choice. It is not a competition if one of the competing parties doesn’t want to be there. Why do we insist on screwing around with herbivores? These are peaceful animals. Grass chewing non-carnivores. The only reason they get nuts is if they are being hurt or threatened. And that by definition is torture. What kind of people torture plant eating animals? How lame is that?

Lori said that the reaction we got repeatedly is the guilt. The voice in their heads that what they are doing is not a good thing, which in turn makes them feel guilty and strike out. That was the other thing. There were shuttle trolleys going back and forth. When one was incoming someone would yell – trolley! – and we would hold our signs while the passengers prayed for the light to change. Every single time the light was red they would stare at us and we at them. The light went green and the shuttle moved into the intersection and out came our brave little cowpokes!
"Nice leather shoes!" One guy yelled out to Casey - Mr. Vegan. They, of course, were leather look-alikes. Good comeback, bonehead.
“Eat more meat!”
"Ay luv beef!"
“Go rodeo!”
“I’m just going to the carnival.”
It really is staggering the magnitude of these kinds of businesses. It can leave you feeling so overwhelmed, almost like getting swept up in a tidal wave. It feels like you are trying to slow a supersonic train. But like my wise friend Lori says – change comes one person at a time.

The faces of the kids and younger people gave me hope. They were heading into the debacle, but with new information, looking through different eyes. Hopefully what they saw this year will have them standing on the sidewalk with us next year.