I know it’s driving Stew crazy that I don’t make some definitive statement regarding the The Devout Order of the Kamikaze Cowboy. I don’t know why I don’t, Stew. I think about it every day…no kidding. It always feels too big. I wonder whether I’ll do it justice–capture the essence, the proper proportions of wry humor and deep profundity and sage wisdom.
Truth is, my Kamikaze Cowboy brother, it was never about the book or the Cylons or the Richard Hatch jokes, it was all about being a Kamikaze Cowboy with you. In the face of the various dragons that their huffed flames upon us, in the belly of the beast with seemingly no way out…it was never about the external concept, not about the light we made of the whole thing that eventually (and appropriately) transformed itself and us by the treasure trove we found hidden within the context we created around the whole Dirk Benedict/Richard Hatch business. It was about the two guys on the phone and the context they created. This is what made it special…this is what has countless times saved me.
I can only tell you this: everyday I wear my clothes and chew my rice. And because I do this, and largely because of two guys yucking it up on the phone one day and (courtesy of Madame h2oMan) decided life could be largely encapsulated in a little mantra, “a little more Dirk and a little less Dick” I continue to function and to even move forward–albeit a little slower–during these difficult days when I often don’t feel like dragging me sorry ass out of bed much less taking up my sword. And as I do, I keep repeating these words over and over as a litany.
Someday, my friend, I will tell the whole story. Someday. People will laugh; people will cry. People will re-evaulate their lives. It’s too funny, it’s too touching, and it’s too cool to let die a quiet death. For now, I must let it rest–no, I must let it percolate a little more. For the implications of being a chosen as a member of this great order is something I wrestle with on a daily basis. I feel yet honored and scared to death all at the same time, for honesty, zen-like discipline, and those pesky Cylons are weighty things. Such as they are, they can never be taken lightly. And yet, they can never be taken too lightly.
In the meantime, one and all, might I suggest reading the venerable Mr. Benedict’s book.
BILL: What did you think, man?
STEW (over phone): Thanks! It’s great.
BILL: Yeah. I thought it would be a great gag gift for you.
STEW: No, man…I mean I started reading this book last night and…I finished it. Do you know when the last time I did that was?
BILL: Really?
STEW: Yeah, man. You really need to read this book.
BILL: Really? We’re talking about Dirk Benedict’s book, right?
STEW: One and the same, my Kamikaze Cowboy friend.
True Life 