White Hatted Cowboys and Cowgirls

by Regis Boff

In the nineteen fifties and sixties, we were all very loyal to our ethnic and racial heritages, same as today. We believed we were the best because we were simply ignorant or indifferent about much of the outside world. The outside world believed in us too, so it became irresistibly contagious for us to push people around.
We were fierce patriots mostly ready to die for our country.
I was taught what children are always taught in America, revisionist convenient histories designed by the theories of the times. The plans for my peers and me were to dress us up as white-hatted cowboys and cowgirls of very few words. We were to protected the weak, and never hurt a fly unless that fly deserved it.
Unfortunately for us, someone upstairs figured the Vietnamese had it coming to them and thousands of our Stetsons wound up on gravestones, and millions of us spent the rest our lives trying on every new hat that we saw to find something to believe in again.