Cowboys In Montana
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Three strangers strike up a conversation in the airport lounge in Bozeman, Montana , awaiting *their flights. One is an American Indian, passing thru from Lame Deer.
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Another is a cowboy on his way to Billings for a livestock show.
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And the third is a fundamentalist Arab student from the Middle East, newly arrived at Montana *State University .
*
*Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon, the two Westerners learn that the Arab is a devout, radical Muslim and the conversation falls into an uneasy lull.
*
The cowboy leans back in his chair, crosses his boots on a magazine table and tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face. The wind outside is blowing tumbleweeds around and the old windsock is flapping, but still no plane comes.
*
Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly speaks. "At one time here, my people were *many, but sadly, now we are few."
*
The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward, "Once my people were few," he sneers, "and now we are many. Why do you suppose that is?"
*
The Montana cowboy shifts his toothpick to one side of his mouth, and from the darkness beneath his Stetson says in a drawl, "That's 'cause we ain't played Cowboys and Muslims yet, but I do believe it's a comin".
*
*
*
Three strangers strike up a conversation in the airport lounge in Bozeman, Montana , awaiting *their flights. One is an American Indian, passing thru from Lame Deer.
*
Another is a cowboy on his way to Billings for a livestock show.
*
And the third is a fundamentalist Arab student from the Middle East, newly arrived at Montana *State University .
*
*Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon, the two Westerners learn that the Arab is a devout, radical Muslim and the conversation falls into an uneasy lull.
*
The cowboy leans back in his chair, crosses his boots on a magazine table and tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face. The wind outside is blowing tumbleweeds around and the old windsock is flapping, but still no plane comes.
*
Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly speaks. "At one time here, my people were *many, but sadly, now we are few."
*
The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward, "Once my people were few," he sneers, "and now we are many. Why do you suppose that is?"
*
The Montana cowboy shifts his toothpick to one side of his mouth, and from the darkness beneath his Stetson says in a drawl, "That's 'cause we ain't played Cowboys and Muslims yet, but I do believe it's a comin".
*
*
