Melissa Broughton, who lived with her family on ranches in south central Wyoming and northern Colorado, including Gingerquill Ranch east of Encampment, recently self published a book about alcoholism and the cowboy lifestyle, "Cowboy Dad." Her father, Randy Broughton, died six years ago of alcohol related causes. Though the book is self-published, Broughton worked hard to maintain a professional product, which she largely credits to the help of a professional editor.
Broughton, who lives and teaches writing in Santa Barbara, Calif., feels a close relationship to ranching and the cowboy lifestyle because of her father. "A lot of people, especially here in California, they'll see a picture of my dad and they're like, 'Oh, he's like a real cowboy!' and I'm like, as opposed to a fake one?" Broughton says of her father. "I forget that to me it's a normal thing. That's what he wore and that's what he looked like. But people are curious about the ranches that we lived on."
"Cowboy Dad" explores the drinking that Broughton considers to be common within the cowboy and ranching cultures. While she was finishing the book, Broughton lived in Cody, Wyo., in order to be in the creative space that surrounded the subject matter of the book. "It makes sense, you know? It is the cowboy culture," Broughton said. "When you have small towns, there's not a lot going on, there's not a lot to do, it's more accepted. The bad thing is, it's not really seen as a disease."
Toward the end of his life, Broughton connected with her dad by calling the bar where he drank in Laramie. "The bartender would say 'Make sure you call before 2 p.m. because after if you call after that, he's going to be wasted," Broughton said.
"Of course I don't want to generalize and stereotype and say that every cowboy is an alcoholic because obviously, we know that that's not true," Broughton said. "But I think when you have places like Wyoming that are so amazing for its small towns and simple life and countryside. And the cowboy culture which is such an amazing thing, too. Winter months come and it gets cold and there's not a lot to do, and alcohol is legal-it's accepted. And I've heard this from other people that Wyoming has a pretty bad problem with alcoholism."
An excerpt from "Cowboy Dad:"
When Dad finally pulled up to the front of the high school in the ranch truck, his arm hung out the window, thumb and finger grasping a dead cigarette. His sunglasses and hat were cock-eyed. Slivers of hair stuck to his sweaty forehead.
I knew what drunk smelled like-a mix of cotton mouth, stale beer, and body odor from being passed out in the hot, musty truck.
No biggie, I thought, and with that I asked the Cowboy to scoot over so I could practice my driving. He refused. Okay, he was a bit stubborn and there was no need to upset anyone-I would just be on alert, with my seat belt on, while we made the short five mile ride home to the ranch, a drive that he could probably have done it with his eyes closed anyway. He tried to play it cool-always thinking I didn't know when he was drinking and asking me questions about school.
"You and Kiley have cheerlead this weekend?" he said red-nosed, chewing peppermint gum to mask his slur.
He had the window rolled down and his arm resting on the ledge. He re-lit his cigarette and balanced his drags with shifting and steering.
I was impressed, yet slightly annoyed. I still liked talking with him and telling him about my day; I knew he was truly interested-tipsy or not.
"Yep, we have cheerleading," I said, sarcastically.
"Whoa!" he said as if he were halting a horse, weaving and just missing a street sign.
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