Time flies when you’re evacuated! The Calgary Stampede is well underway, in keeping with their “Come Hell or High Water” pledge, and continues til Sunday. It had to happen. It’s like the New Orleans Saints winning the Superbowl after Katrina, although the timing was on hyper fast forward. Even though some of us in the dark, damp and powerless neighborhoods may be wondering if city inspectors have forsaken us for deep-fried butter on the midway, all we can do is trade our rubber boots for cowboy boots — mud be damned!
Stampede starts with a good set of boots. Hopefully this cowgirl got back to the farm before the downpour that set off more flash floods. It’s been a rainy start to the rowdy roundup.
Okay, okay, I’ll lighten up. Just because bartenders like this make it easy. The pose was his idea, btw. Meanwhile, can you spot the two clues that this photo was taken in Canada? Hint: look at the money, honey. And the sign for bladder relief.
The famed Cowboys Tent, on the edge of the Stampede Grounds, was a veritable style corral.
Check out the cowgirl cannister clutch.
The devil is in the details. Or at Stampede, is it the corporate presence? Because this buckaroo didn’t win his buckle at the rodeo.
Bumped into Conservative Cowboy Lindsay Blackett, who has made the leap from culture to construction. 
Somewhere along the way he must have stopped at a politically correct dude ranch. I predict a public service comeback.
Then the music got louder and leather-encased toes started tapping.
Tulle and tall boots are a license to twirl.
Ten gallon hats as far as the eye could see. Totally depending on how far your eyes could focus.
Boot scootin’ through crushed Corona cans.
It’s official. It’s a party! Lace shirt, Guess. Little black dress, Bebe. Belt, strategic cowboy-meets-Indian combo. Happy Stampede!
