Jan
27
2010
I Love Black Cowboy Hats And Adam Cartwright
Author: Deb Trotter
Adam Cartwright has left the Ponderosa – and another cool cowboy hangs his hat (his BLACK hat) on a cloud …
Pernell Roberts, I loved you.
And I loved Bonanza.
When I was nine years old I was convinced we would meet. You would marry me and take me away to the Ponderosa where I would become a cowgirl. I would wear a hat, boots, and pants (pants on a girl were a ‘big’ thing back then – If Barbara Stanwyck could do it, why not me?) I would have a Pinto Pony – an even prettier and faster one than Little Joe’s. Hop-Sing would cook dinner. Afterwards the whole family (including me!) would build a campfire in front of that big house where we would sit and tell stories.
All of my little cousins and friends loved Little Joe. They liked him because he was the cutest … and he was often ‘clueless.’ He had that curly hair and that sweet smile.
But you?
I loved you because you were intense. Smart. Handsome. And I was crazy about your eyes. I could get lost in those eyes and never want to come back. I asked my cousin, Susie, one day, “Don’t you think Adam Cartwright has the best eyes in the whole Cartwright family?’
“Are you kiddin’? They aren’t near as good as Little Joe’s.”
But they were. Especially when you wore black.
I wasn’t old enough then to know that black was symbolic of your brooding nature. I just felt power there, and I liked it. (In ‘grown up woman’ terms, I reckon I was drawn to your ‘bad boy’ side that was overshadowed by those winks you shared with the camera.) Even a kid recognizes star quality when she sees it.
You came into my living room every week, and I fell in love all over again.
I told my mom that I didn’t care how much older than me you were. I was going to marry you anyway.
Mom replied, “You mean you’d rather marry HIM than Little Joe?” Talk about betrayal! Even my own mother couldn’t see that as cowboys go (or were supposed to go back then) YOU were the special one.
Or in the words of a 9 year old kid in 50’s, you were so DREAMY!
So here I am, Adam. 50 years later. I probably wouldn’t look so great in Barbara Stanwyck’s tight pants, but I’d go riding with you anyway.
I still love you.
Say Howdy to Ben, Hoss, and Little Joe. And float a kiss down my way.
And by they way, I still love me a cowboy in a black hat!
Signed …
“Deb Trotter, Cowboy’s Sweetheart Artist”
