Buckin' the air — Context and Discussion

Dialect and Voice

The narrative is delivered in a first-person cowboy dialect, with contractions and nonstandard grammar like 'we was' and 'it wasn’t to be sneezed at.' The letter from Clay Hinkle is a standout: 'Dere boys: Well, you ok horsethieves, I thot I wood rite you a few lines to let you no thet I had bin elekted head judge of the San Dominick Rodeo.' This phonetic spelling and folksy tone contrast with the narrator’s own voice, which is more polished but still colloquial. The dialect creates a sense of authenticity and humor, grounding the absurd events in a specific cultural milieu.

The Airplane as a Rodeo Animal

The cowboys treat the airplane as if it were a bucking bronco, applying rodeo terminology to their flight. The narrator describes the plane as a 'go-devil of an outfit' that 'couldn’t get the best of a bank composed mostly of large rocks.' The crash sequence is a catalog of rural destruction: a greenhouse, a cemetery, an apple orchard, a watermelon patch, a herd of geese, a red barn, a henhouse. The narrator’s tone is gleeful, calling it 'the thrill of a lifetime' and noting 'the playful manner in which we had destroyed orchards, cornfields and barnyard fowls.' This blend of violence and humor is central to the story’s effect.

Dream, Crash, and Consequences

After the crash, the narrator experiences a dream where Bearcat floats with wings and a wreath reading 'Rest in Peace,' while organ music plays 'Here comes the bride.' This surreal interlude contrasts sharply with the harsh awakening: a hospital bed, angry voices, and the recognition of 'Old Walrus and Battling Mary'—the marshal and a woman whose property was destroyed. The narrator’s winnings, meant for rodeo glory, will now go to 'ruint lingerie.' The story ends on a note of ironic deflation, as the cowboy’s bravado meets financial and legal reality.

Readers should note the story’s reliance on a single, extended set piece: the airplane ride and its aftermath. The excerpts do not reveal the full resolution of the legal or financial troubles, nor do they show the San Dominick rodeo. The humor depends on the narrator’s unflappable tone in the face of chaos, and the dialect rewards careful reading for its invented spellings and rhythms. This is a short, fast-paced tale that blends Western and aviation genres with a light touch.

There’s something about Buckin’ the air that lingers—that moment when the ground stops being a promise. It reminds me of the quiet dread in The Young Engineers in Arizona; or, Laying Tracks on the Man-killer Quicksand — A Reader’s Guide, where every step feels borrowed. Both know how suddenly a solid thing can turn to nothing.