They called it a “pressed ham.” I call it rude and unfair to the old couple behind us. I was a 16-year-old rookie 3rd baseman visiting for the summer, unfamiliar with the local tradition these senior players presented to this sweet, elderly couple behind the bus. (I stereotype, but have you ever met an old couple that weren’t sweet)?

I don’t know if you’re familiar with the pressed ham, which I believe these days is called a “mooning.” Either way, it’s not something you want to stare at for an extended period of time with no escape, and that’s why I felt so bad for the couple following our American Legion bus up the mountain from Sheridan. I wouldn’t have been so outraged had it been one pressed ham, but nobody deserves a trio pressed against a back window. All I could think was “Oh, the humanity!”

This poor couple who could have been your or my grandparents, had the option of discreetly looking away, but there’s always that chance of going over the edge and rolling to their deaths. It haunts me how they must have debated that decision, but thankfully they chose life. One can survive a hideous visual, but good luck rolling down a 200-foot embankment.

But let’s get back to the unintended consequences of this particular moon. It might seem a lighthearted display of one’s keester, but one need consider the effect it might have on a bedroom community like ours. I think our Chamber of Commerce might agree.

Let me explain how another one of these “innocent” moonings might have had tragic consequences if not for my sister-in-law Jane’s visiting brother Dana and his friend Shelby from … (now don’t overreact) California. Don’t get all “Don’t California our town,” because after having dinner with these two camouflaged hunters from northern California, I’d swear the politically redneck banter was born and raised in Cody. I even heard Shelby insist the election was stolen. If that ain’t Wyoming, I don’t know what is.

So they’re driving back from a Northfork hunt when an 11-license plate sedan passed and to their shock, a naked keester appeared from the passenger window. Apparently, their only offense was the California – one of our biggest and most historical states – license plate. Never mind these guys think global warming is a hoax, in spite of my plea, “Let’s not talk about something so depressing. Can’t we just enjoy this beautiful, mid-80s, October day?”

I kid, but granted Cali has their nuts, but these two “suspicious” visitors keenly noticed something as this moon vehicle passed. To quote Dana, “There was a big ol’ boil on the guy’s … (we’ll say “backside” for woke reasons).” They’re both concerned this unsightly growth might be a warning sign of an un-diagnosed, ticking time bomb. They begged me to alert this cheeky passenger fellow to contact his family physician immediately.

If this sincere PSA saves a life, maybe we should quit judgmentally dropping our pants when a state doesn’t suit us. God only knows what might have been hanging out that window had it been a Connecticut plate.

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