Close to two years ago now, Qlint’s grandfather died.
Although I never knew him, I could hear the admiration and the respect in Q’s voice whenever he spoke of him.
He described him as silly, eccentric, smiling, and full of stories to tell.
If there is one solace I find in death, it’s the vibrancy of life it highlights and allows us to remember.
What seemed to intrigue me most about Robert Lee Mann was that he was also a bad-ass cowboy.
Last December I got a package in the mail from Qlint in California. He wanted me to have one of his grandfather’s bolo ties.
Now how bad-ass cowboy is that.
The gesture was incredibly sweet and moving.
I now hold a piece of this man’s history.
There’s actually quite a bit of discrepancy around the origin of the bolo tie, but the fact remains that they’re awesome. They will always be awesome, and this one of Robert’s is truly incredible.
The sunburst rhinestone clasp on this particular bolo tie makes it a wonderfully unique and stand-on-its-own piece.
The first time I decided to wear Robert’s bolo tie, I paired it with all black to a Christmas party.
I wanted it to be the centerpiece of my outfit.
It was a party favorite.
Robert Lee Mann will never know who I am, but I can’t help but think he’d be more than pleased to know that his cowboy spirit is cherished and will continue to live on for many, many years to come.
A great way to remember a great man.