Book Review: ...And That's All I Know: The collected columns of Dick Geary 2013-2020

What does a cowboy think? How does he describe his world? I have always wondered about the who, what, where and why of cowboys, and now I've found an answer. My muse is (was) Richard Geary. His world could be explained by some of his definitions: "Calf: 80 pounds of hope when born; 500 pounds of disappointment when sold." Or, "ATV: a small four-wheeled vehicle used to rush from one hopeless situation to another hopeless situation." (What Ranchers Mean).

His authentic renderings as a weekly columnist for a couple of local Montana newspapers has found me nodding my head in agreement and appreciation of his various predicaments and observations. These musings can now be shared in his collection of columns in a book called 'AND THAT'S ALL I KNOW'.

Shaped and seasoned on the Geary family ranch in Blackfoot River's Helmville area in western Montana, "Dick" loved, hated, left and returned to the land that birthed him. His squint-eyed ruminations' concerning his surroundings form an authentic insight into a life spent toiling to squeeze a living from an unforgiving land.

According to Dick's reasoning, family cow/calf operations are thought of in terms of generations, while corporations think in terms of quarterly profits. "It's an existence with a purpose, and that purpose is to hold on until the next generation can take over and hang on again." (Ranchers Aren't In It For The Money column)

Richard rode off to the last roundup recently, but his sister Lois has gathered up his columns into a rambling collection of stories that should be read around parlor stoves on long, cold, winter nights.

"Dick" never gussied up the everyday tribulations of ranch life, and never hid the seedier side of his battles with alcoholism and insanity. "My need for approval from the world has waned to a point where there are only three people who I don't want to disappoint . The rest can take what they can get from me." (There's Always The River) . His sometimes bleak or humorous and always cantankerous view of life didn't encourage anyone to blow their life savings on a "spread in Montana".

This was a cowboy that didn't call out to be emulated. Gruff with every fool, and friend to every animal, Geary lived a lonely life to better wrestle with his demons. Four-legged skunks were more welcome in his kitchen than the two-legged variety. He was prouder of his well watered hay field than any other of his life's accomplishments.

Finally, when he had enough of clinging to his frontier heritage, he moved to Brazil, where he had spent several years of his idealistic youth teaching cattle management to ranchers as a Peace Corps volunteer. Trading his broken-down boots for a pair of sandals, Dick thought he would spend the end of his days in paradise. Such was not the case, and he was penniless at death's door before being rescued by his family, and returned to his roots. He died where he lived, and his spirit must still be puttering around the old barn where generations of Geary's had toiled and laughed.

Now, his body lies overlooking the town and country he loved so mightily in the Helmville Cemetery, as beautiful a resting place as a cowboy could hope for.

...And That's All I Know: The collected columns of Dick Geary 2013-2020 by Richard Geary Copyright @ 2021 Joyce Geary Scott. ISBN: 9798502689519