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"There&amp;#039;s something about a man in a cowboy hat that does it for me. It&amp;#039;s stupid, really, because how many men who actually wear those hats are truly cowboys - especially here in Los Angeles. And if they were actual cowboys, I&amp;#039;d probably be irritated with their rough mannerisms, their smell of manure, the dust they track into the house, and the fact that, with all that room in their hat, I&amp;#039;d undoubtedly be bitching, &amp;quot;Couldn&amp;#039;t you at least bring me a Diet Coke?&amp;quot; One such song by Garth Brooks starts off with the tale of a cowboy who had been working long hours in the field. He was cranky, exhausted and hungry, damnit! I get the impression that this farmer&amp;#039;s wife had been trying to be patient, but one night over biscuits she snapped. Garth sings: &amp;quot;She&amp;#039;d been waiting for this day for oh so long. She was standing in the kitchen with nothing but her apron on. And with disbelief he stood and he stared a while. And then their eyes met, and they both began to smile...&amp;quot; What I love about the song is that this wasn&amp;#039;t just about sex. It was about a spontaneous connection between two people who, due to the pressures of real life, had forgotten to be friends. (Naked friends - the best kind!)  The past few months, Rex and I had fallen into that trap. With some work developments, plus applying to grad school, we had been two people running a corporation (with two little rug rats tearing up the office) but not appreciating each other. We were together in the house, but our minds were a million miles away. That&amp;#039;s the kind of loneliness that can hurt the most. We&amp;#039;d been having sex, but not really making love. I broke down a night or two ago. I might as well have played Brook&amp;#039;s song. &amp;quot;Somewhere other than the night She needs to hear I love you Somewhere other than the night She needs to know you care She wants to know she&amp;#039;s needed And she needs to be held tight Somewhere other than the night&amp;quot;  Rex and I are going to get back to our date nights - kind of like the feelings this part evokes: &amp;quot;They spent the day wrapped up in a blanket on the front porch swing He&amp;#039;d come to realize he&amp;#039;d neglected certain things And there are times she feels alone even by his side It was the first time she ever saw him cry&amp;quot; In conclusion, check out candid blogger PhD in Yogurty&amp;#039;s portrayal of the naked cowboy she found in her kitchen a few years back. Maybe she&amp;#039;s the muse behind Brooke&amp;#039;s song? I don&amp;#039;t want to know. Like Disneyland, if I learned how the rides work, the magic would die. I&amp;#039;d rather keep listening to the song and brew my own romantic conclusions. Until next time, ride on, cowgirls, ride on. (And since this is a sex column, I do mean ride on. Which means you cowboys, giddy up. Literally.) "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/relationships/a3264/ride-him-cowgirls/?src=shelter_footer>