If I could have met these guys when I was eight, I would have thought I died and had gone to heaven and I told them so. Like most kids of my generation, I chewed Doublemint gum because Gene Autry did, Sang Happy Trails to You with Dale and Roy and wore my Hopalong Cowgirl outfit complete with boots long after they were too small. Two giant rocks dropped by a departing glacier were behind my house were the badlands and I galloped on imaginary horses.
These two Mounted Royal Canadian Police didn’t show up at the conference where I was on horseback, but regular cars. I suppose horses would never have made it up the escalator anyway. They smiled at me, probably had heard it all before, as I took their photo.
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