Jack Ostergard is a rancher from Gothenburg, Nebraska. He is also a cowboy poet and philosopher supreme. Hot off the press is his new book RUMINATIONS (Ruminate: To chew again). I have heard Jack speak on several occasions through the years. He is a super fine fellow, and I would highly recommend his new book.
The book is 8" x 11", paperback, and 216 pages of prose, poetry and pictures. There are also a lot of good one-liner philosophical takes on Life. The humor is fantastic. It is available for $25 postpaid from:
Jack Ostergard
412 11th Street
Gothenburg, NE 69138
Here are a few of his astute observations on ranching:
All my relation kind of stayed around the same area except one cousin. He had to leave because of his beliefs. He believed other peoples' horses were his.
This cowboy was so short he had to stand on his head to get his foot in the stirrup.
My dad raised his own haying crew. This was before the days of windrowers and swathers. Six boys, one mowed, one raked, one ran the sweep, one stacked and one scatter-raked. The last one drove the stacker team.
Stacking changed to baling with wire tie and now has gone from wire tie to twine tie. The last change caused a lot of ranchers to make different arrangements for repairs.
One advantage of being a rancher is, you don't spend a lot of time in the morning deciding what to wear.
I discovered a cure for Mad Cow Disease. Don't irritate them to start with.
I ordered some extra baling wire this year. I don't have much hay but a lot of my machinery is getting old.
This guy sounded like a manure salesman with a mouth full of samples.
Lots of folks in Nebraska raise both livestock and crops. I am often asked how many cattle you have to own to be a rancher. I say numbers have nothing to do with it. If the first of May rolls around and you are still in the pasture instead of in a cornfield it is likely you are a rancher.
I was born in April. Now if you count back nine months from April, it is July. Everyone knows July is haying time on the ranch and nothing ever stops haying time. So I probably owe my existence to a freak July thunderstorm.
In Nebraska we spend more time looking for it to cloud up than we do looking for it to clear off.
Back in the 30's it was so dry. I remember riding down the road horseback one day with my dad. We met a neighbor and stopped to talk. Naturally the conversation turned to the weather. Neighbor said, "Sure is dry, isn't it?" Dad said, "Yup." Neighbor said, "Sure wish it would rain." Dad said, "Yup, not so much for me I have seen rain, but Jack here is only five years old."
Poetry is a form of communication. Now I have always enjoyed Keats, Shelley, Burns, Longfellow and Kipling. On my first date, being kind of a country boy I took along a book of poetry to give to the girl. I asked her, "Do you enjoy Kipling?" She said, "I don't know, I've never been Kipiled."
I understand my job tonight is to give you some cowboy poetry and your job is to listen. If you get done before I do please let me know.
On introducing a speaker: "I don't know anything about this guy but if he's good let's hear him and if he isn't let's get it over with."
"I would rather see this guy perform than eat. I mean that because I have seen him eat."
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Anyway, ol' Soapweed speaking again. I will personally guarantee that you will like Jack's new book. Send for it today.