Three strangers strike up a conversation in the airport passenger lounge in Bozeman, Montana, while awaiting their respective flights.
One is an American Indian passing through from Lame Deer. Another is a Cowboy on his way to Billings for a livestock show & the third passenger is a fundamentalist Arab student, newly arrived at Montana State University from the Middle East
Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon, the two Westerners learn that the Arab is a devout, radical Muslim who has a famous relative in America. The conversation falls into an uneasy lull.
The cowboy leans back in his chair, crosses his boots on a magazine table and tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face.
The wind outside is blowing tumbleweeds around, and the old windsock is flapping; but still no airplane comes.
Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly he speaks, 'At one time here, my people were many, but sadly, now we are few.'
The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward, 'Once my people were few here,' he sneers, 'and now we
are many. Why do you suppose that is?'
The Montana cowboy shifts his toothpick to one side of his mouth and from the darkness beneath his Stetson says in a smooth drawl . .
'That's 'cause we ain't played Cowboys and Muslims yet, but I do believe it's a-comin'.'
One is an American Indian passing through from Lame Deer. Another is a Cowboy on his way to Billings for a livestock show & the third passenger is a fundamentalist Arab student, newly arrived at Montana State University from the Middle East
Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon, the two Westerners learn that the Arab is a devout, radical Muslim who has a famous relative in America. The conversation falls into an uneasy lull.
The cowboy leans back in his chair, crosses his boots on a magazine table and tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face.
The wind outside is blowing tumbleweeds around, and the old windsock is flapping; but still no airplane comes.
Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly he speaks, 'At one time here, my people were many, but sadly, now we are few.'
The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward, 'Once my people were few here,' he sneers, 'and now we
are many. Why do you suppose that is?'
The Montana cowboy shifts his toothpick to one side of his mouth and from the darkness beneath his Stetson says in a smooth drawl . .
'That's 'cause we ain't played Cowboys and Muslims yet, but I do believe it's a-comin'.'
7 comments:
My second oldest brother lives in Bozeman!! :-D
Very Good I like that.
Lord Bless...
That's good! I haven't heard that one before.
Very funny!
I will admit my humor is usually coarse and juvenile but joking about killing people is not funny. Substitute the word, black, Jewish or Christian for the word, Muslim.It suddenly seems very racist, doesn't it?
I'm a Muslim from the bozeman area, I don't suppose you know who the Arab student was, do you? I'm curious if I know him.
That's exactly the sort of sick sentiment I expect to hear from a Christian. Your attitudes are so far from the teachings of Christ it isn't even funny.
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