Vancouver, B.C. Summer, 1974. I mean, at least I come by my cowboy affectations honestly. Hat affectations also--it all runs too deep. Please note also that my older brother, pictured beside me, is dressed season appropriately, a sensible pair of short-shorts in a burnt orange/baby tiger pattern destined to be called retro. It is a hot summer day. I assume I am sweltering and loving it. I have always been prepared, as indeed I still am, to suffer in the name of style. No, I did not forget my whistle.