Bull

I learned something about myself recently. It came as a sudden and complete surprise ... after 40-some-ish years of living. Surprise. No, it doesn't have to do with food. Or sex. Or religion. For those who know me, it will probably seem out of character. The big revelation?

I like to watch bull riding. I didn't know this until recently when I found myself glued to the TV watching this man vs. beast thing -- on more than one occasion. I don't understand this fascination. My usual idea of a fun-to-watch-sport does involve a saddle, but the mount in question has wheels and doesn't try to buck you off (yes, it is Tour de France month).

I think it is the height of insanity to climb onto the back of a bull. I mean, really, ... who do you THINK is going to win this contest?? But I keep coming back to watch some guy try to hang on long enough to get enough points to "win." The actual ride does not particularly fascinate me since I don't know what constitutes a good ride (short of hanging on for at least 8 seconds). Perhaps form is considered. Maybe the rider gets points for the dismount ... landing on both feet with arms raised in the air? And I'm not really interested in seeing the poor rider get thrown and possibly stomped to death. So what is it that compels me to watch this?

I guess I don't know "me" very well. What next? Scary scary thought.