Where Oh Where Is Charlie Pride

What in the world has happened to country music? I was perusing the newspaper the other day and stopped down to check out the current top 10 song rankings.  I’m a hip guy (nudge, nudge, wink, wink) and I need to be current with my tunes. It’s bad enough that I didn’t know a soul on the pop charts, but I don’t think I had ever heard any of the songs on the country top ten.

I made it a point to listen to country music stations one day as I traveled. Holy crap, but that was painful to do. Has Nashville deemed it necessary to mix country, rock and rap into songs these days? I was in the airport the other day and I thumbed through a country music magazine to put a name with a face. It looks like the current “stars” are nothing but a load of wanna be rock rejects. Wannabe rock & rollers put on a goofy ass hat and become country. How precious…

I imagine that people in the 70’s probably thought the same thing about Charlie Daniels and Willie Nelson, but back then music had substance. The 70’s were about rebellion and fighting back. “Uneasy Rider” by Charlie Daniels was a great story of long hairs vs. the crew cut, Pabst Blue Ribbon drinking, country establishment of the times. Today, country singers sing about mudding in 4 wheel drives, wearing John Deere caps and being slutty. Not a lot of believability. Kind of like some of the rap songs I occasionally hear…

Folks, we need another list! Maybe we can show people what music is and what music is about.  But first, a picture of old & young Willie.

Doing what you have to to get people to pay attention to you.

                                                              

                                                                   

Flippin the bird to Nashville

and doing your own thing...

  

Top Country Music Singers or Groups

(No particular order)

George Strait- Definitely a gimme. No singer has done more to the genre.

Jerry Jeff Walker- Father of Americana music. Sorry Woody Guthrie, but Jerry Jeff brought it to the mainstream. Robert Earl Keen has no clue….

Ray Price- What a voice.

Linda Ronstadt- Easily the most versatile singer ever. Her first stuff (“Silver Threads & Golden Needles”) is amazing. Her Mexican Ranchero or Mariachi music is some of my favorite.

Johnny Cash- Little bit of early rock n roll and mixed with country. Elvis went mainstream and Johnny Cash made music.

Conway Twitty- Just listen to “Hello Darlin” and you’ll see why.

Tammy Wynette/George Jones- Best duo ever and pretty good by themselves. See “DIVORCE” and “The Race is On”

Alabama-Who the hell is Rascal Flatts? I’ve already forgot…

Waylon Jennings/Willie Nelson-Outlaw country is a little tired these days, but these two did more for the progressive movement than anyone. Luckenbach, Texas still hates them for using their town in a song.

Bob Wills- “It don’t matter who’s in Austin, Bob Wills is still the king.”          

Alan Jackson- A man truly making music because he wants to. 

Obligatory Honorable Mention

It is hard damn work to come up with this group of honorables. There are so many singers and songwriters that can actually carry a tune and leave us wanting more. I’ll try to be impartial….

Gene Watson- Baytown, Texas native that made it to the big time. Great voice and good cry in your beer music.

See “Got No Reason Now For Going Home”.

Pam Tillis- Good genes (her dad is Mel Tillis, my hero J) and a set of pipes. Should have gone farther, but I think some people would say her voice was too twangy for her era.

Jimmy Buffet-Probably the most underrated in this whole group. Band wagoner’s fill up stadiums to see him, but thanks to Dink Stephens brother Paul, we found out about him way before the Parrot Head was conceived.

Clint Black- He’s a little of a youngster compared to others. He made his bones with Garth, but had more scruples to be himself. Listen to “Closing Time” from his first album.

Patty Loveless- Similar to Clint, because she too, played what she wanted to. Saw her open for George Strait after she was already a star in her own right. Say’s a lot about who she is…

The Byrds-The Byrds? At first I thought they were making fun of twangy country music, but as I listened, I heard country with an edge. Kind of like if Buck Owens and Chrissie Hynde had an illegitimate child….

Michael Murphy-Similar to a chameleon. He goes from cosmic cowboy stage to mainstream country to buckaroo country. All of it top notch.

Ricky Skaggs- His band was one of the great ones. He’s on the bluegrass now, but his music is timeless.

Martina McBride- Was tough to choose between her and Linda Ronstadt. Her voice is to Ray Price’s.

Moe Bandy/Joe Stampley- Saw them both in the early 80’s. Moe was a rodeo crooner and Joe was a beer joint songster.

Who can forget “Where’s the Dress” by them as a duo, “All These Things” by Joe and “Someday Soon” by Moe.

There are a ton of others to mention in this list; Gary Stewart, Steve Wariner, Asleep At The Wheel, The Gatlin Brothers, Mickey Gilley, Earl Thomas Conley, Reba McIntire, Sweethearts of the Rodeo, Radney Foster, Deborah Allen, Janie Fricke, Charly McClain. I could keep on typing till midnight if I had the time.

It really is sad to see where country music has fallen to. I don’t think it was purposeful or any evil intent was the factor. Money rules everything it seems and this may be the common denominator to country music being tits up. All the so called divas in popular music can take lessons from Linda Ronstadt, Emmy Lou Harris and Martina McBride to name a few. The redneck phase of male singers who try a little to hard to be “country” is hard to watch and even harder to listen to. You don’t need to slut it up or see how trashy you can be.  Just sing.

This is a negative dissertation, but I bet I’m not the only one who see’s this gutter dive called country music. I wish I could sing. I wish my hands and fingers could play the guitar. I’ll never know what it’s like to stand on a stage and hear applause. These people on my list have all the before mentioned talent and use it the right way. Well most of them did. George Jones drank like a fish and drove lawn mowers to town, but I digress.

Jimmy Buffet had a song called “Making Music for Money”, that told of making music to please yourself and not for the money. A little bit out there (we all need to make money to live) but I think it was a common thread in the day.  What would I do if I had the “talent”? I’d probably blow it all on a bottle of 30 year old scotch and a big ass T-bone steak dinner.

Ohhhh, but it would be good…

I Have A Headache and Can't Help You

Work can sometimes be described as a four-letter word. Before you start jumping to conclusions, remember I said, “can” be a four-letter word.  I have worked all kinds of jobs in my lifetime, some good, some not so good. I think I came to this conclusion when Susie and I moved into what hopes to be our final house. After a week of loading and unloading, packing and unpacking and listening to my back scream, I have come to the conclusion that first on my list of hated jobs or tasks is MOVING.

Moving One’s Stuff

This includes moving me or anyone else. Oh sure, when you’re young and your worldly possessions amount to a few boxes, your bed and a frying pan, moving is a snap. Hell, when I was in college, I moved literally every semester. Loading and packing took about 45 minutes and plus, it gave you a reason to drink beer. As you get older, you (as George Carlin once said) accumulate stuff and you need a place to put your stuff. Still, you always seem come up with a test you have to study for or become suddenly invisible when your buddies look for help moving their stuff. Unless of course they had beer. Before I left Tarleton to go to my college internship, the late Dr. Don Henneke gave me great tips on a cross-country trip. Plastic garbage bags. You can stuff them with clothes, towels, loaves of bread and pillows. They compact easy and fill the gaps. Brilliant. 

After I got married and Susie and I began combing our possessions, moving started to suck. I made one last move with the U-Haul truck and called it quits. I have hired movers or loaders ever since. This last move cost me a cool grand to hire someone to load and unload. They way I looked at it, if I had not hired them, the muscle relaxers and prescription Advil would have been 2 grand when it was all said and done.

Plumbing-The Devil’s Task

Most home repair sucks, but it can be done if you have the right tools and your wife doesn’t mind you cussing a blue streak until the job is done. Painting is bad enough, but I can suck it up and operate a roller or a brush if I had to. PLUMBING JOBS bite. Welcome to number two on the list. Get it, number 2???

With plumbing the job is either right or wrong, there is no halfway. Unless you are like me and you don’t mind drips in all your faucets. Our house would sometimes sound like the school gym locker showers with the constant and multiple drip, drip, drips. To do most plumbing jobs, you never have the right tool. You have to stop, drive to the hardware store, find out they just ran out of a seat for a 1972 shower faucet and you have to go to 2 other stores to find them. When you do find said seat, you don’t buy just one, you purchase 10 of the bastards, because you know you’ll either strip the threads or drop it down the drain because you forgot to plug it up with a towel like they do on “This Old House”. I hate the cast of “This Old House” and I think I will haunt them when I die.  Norm, Tommy and Richard are a three major league asses that love to show us how simple it is to change a washer.  Bastards.

A Romp In The Hay

This leads me to the bane of my existence and the one task I will lie, cheat or steal to get out of. HAULING HAY. I lived in Arizona for a year and was introduced to 3 string Alfalfa bales. Why the hell do you have 3 string bales when 2 strings are more than sufficient? A three-string bale only weighs a couple of hundred pounds and it literally takes two people to lift them into a pickup bed. And then they want you to stack the bales 3o feet high.  This is why I love round bales so much. You simply stick the bale with the spike and press the lever on the tractor and pick it up. Simple.

In Texas, Bermuda grass hay was somewhat dominant to Alfalfa, but it still had to be hauled. Damn it. I didn’t always hate hauling hay. I could make a dime or a little more per bale hauling square bales, so the pay was not bad for an unemployed college kid. Shoot, if I made $75.00 one weekend, that could be stretched into a few cases of beer and Whataburgers for lunch instead of Top Ramen for a week.. What pushed me over the edge was Dr. Bill Jackson. I worked a few hours a week cleaning stalls and helping him breed the few mares he kept. One summer evening, I had worked my usual hour and was about to leave, when he told me to grab my gloves and come with him. I’ll preface this with informing you that he paid me $5.00 an hour. We spent the next 3 hours picking up grass hay out a pasture. Me and him. He drove and I picked up the hay out of the field and stacked it on the trailer.  For $5.00 an hour. We or should I say I, picked up about 400 bales in about two trips. If I was getting paid by the bale, I could have made a least $40.00 or 2 cases of beer and 3 cheeseburgers. But I was paid $15.00 or a six-pack and two cans of Vienna Sausages.

I kid and laugh about this now, but Dr. Jackson was diabetic and I wouldn’t let him load the hay. He about passed out on me one hot, muggy summer morning while we were building fence. He picked up a corner post to set it in the hole I had dug, fell and almost landed on top of me. He asked me if I had ever seen someone having diabetic shock and I told him no, I had not. He said “Get me to the truck and take me back to the house or you ‘ll see one”. I drove that short distance in record time.

All kidding aside, I don’t mind getting my hands dirty. I think the problem is that I’m not very good at it. If I build something, 10 times out of 10 it looks like something 7^th grade shop class put together. I think I do better using my head than my hands. I wanted to learn to build saddles, but I don’t have one bit of artistic talent. I thought I would learn to play guitar, but I can’t carry a note and I’m all thumbs. Thank God I’m not a farmer, because I’d be a skinny one. I even thought I could be a radio broadcaster at one time. We all know how that would have worked out. Longest show on the air and I still couldn’t say a thing.

I guess the moral is to find what you like to do and do it well. I love what I do now and I love the people I work with. Just don’t ask me to help you fill your hay barn.

The Incredible Ms. C

The Incredible Ms. C

Susie and I had been in California for about a year and a half when Ms. C hobbled in to our life. The hobbling explanation is coming. We had just bought our first home in CA that summer (first home in CA, how crazy is that?) and we had no idea how our new neighbor would impact our world.

Penny Contreras lived beside us in a small home in Oakhurst, CA that she had purchased about 6 months before us. She was a recently widowed lady from Fresno who like us, loved the mountains and refused to be a “flatlander”. She didn’t want to just visit the Sierra’s; she wanted to co-exist with them. Her husband had recently passed away and they had both enjoyed it so much up here, that she made the move.  Plus, her husband was laid to rest a few miles north of town on the road heading toward Yosemite and she wanted to be able to be near him.  Her family questioned the move, not unlike ours, and could not understand why anyone would want to live up here.  The mountain’s can be a magnet.

From the first introduction, Susie and Penny became the best of friends. I’ll go out on a limb and say that Susie never had a better friend. From that day forward, Penny and Susie were in separable. Penny had hip replacement surgery that fall, and Susie became her go-to-gal. Susie checked on her everyday and was at her beck and call 24/7. She would walk over to Penny’s after we ate supper and help her out with washing the dishes, cleaning up the house or whatever needed to be taken care of. Susie loved to help out, because Penny loved her right back. I carried wood pellets into the house for her stove and swept the leaves off her roof, not because I felt she was needy, but because I wanted to. Penny watched after Susie when I was out of town and this was my way of returning her favor.

On most Monday’s, I was out of town and Monday’s became “Dinner at Penny’s” for Susie and Penny. They would get together sometimes at our house, but mostly at Penny’s. Dinner, conversation and wine seemed to be the usual menu. Penny’s hip never did “get right” and it was easier for Susie to walk 100 yards to Penny’s house than visa versa.  Most weeks, besides Monday’s, we seemed to eat at least one meal a week with Penny on her back deck. She would never let us buy the food, but she would have us cook for her. Penny always kept cold Pacifico beers in the fridge for me and I could always count on Penny saying, “ You need a beer, dear?” whenever I was cooking. The “Monday’s with Penny” bond was so ingrained with the two of them, that after we moved back to Texas, they talked every Monday at 7:00 PM sharp to go over their week’s activities. Monday dinners morphed into Saturday night dinners and then the semi annual Seafood Spectacular was born. All seafood was represented at this event, from salmon to scallops. Susie, the anti seafood culinaryist (I think I just invented a new word) became a seafood aficionado on one of these occasions. Stranger things, I do not believe, exist.

Although Penny had a much bigger impact on Susie, she affected me also. Penny used to write a blog called “A View From the Rocker”, and her musings of life in general gave me the idea to do the same. She gave me rave reviews on my first blog and probably kept me going. For a long time she was the only reader it seemed, but she gave me the encouragement to write how I felt.

Leaving Penny and moving back to Texas was one of the toughest things we ever did. The morning we left, Penny walked all the way over to the house to say goodbye. Susie told her, “I told myself I wouldn’t cry”, but they both bawled like lost calves.  I felt like such a heel for moving us away from Penny, but I kept telling myself it was the right move. About a year or so after we were back in Texas, Susie went back to Oakhurst for a two-week visit. Penny paid for the flight to Fresno and even bought Susie a first class ticket. The whole time Susie was in California, I kept thinking that I wished I were there too. Penny needed us and we needed Penny.

I think our happiest days were after I found out that I had got the job in California and we were moving back. I would listen to Penny and Susie talk on Monday’s and I could just feel the joy in Susie’s voice. About a month or two after I got the job, Penny fell and broke her hip. She was by herself on the floor in her living room for several hours until someone heard her yelling and called 911. She was in the hospital and rehab for 2-3 weeks before she came home to Oakhurst. I stopped by to see her and was shocked to see how she looked. She put on the good face and said she was doing fine, but I didn’t buy it. Susie and I struggled for about 3 more months and finally were able to sell our Texas house and get moved back to California. Susie and Penny picked up where they left off and you would never know we had been gone for three years.

It seemed that right after she started making progress with her hip, Penny had knee replacement surgery. I don’t know how she managed without Susie. Another of Penny’s friend, Judi, helped out also and the two of them, Susie and Judi, somehow managed. While all of this is happening, Penny realizes she needs shoulder surgery. When it rains it, pours.  Her quality of life became worse and the happy, cheery Penny soon became tired and cranky Penny. When Penny felt bad, Susie was the mirror image of her. I could see the strain in Susie and I knew that time would make a difference and the old Penny would be home soon.

A few weeks ago Susie called me awhile I was working and I could feel the worried tone in her voice. She said she had called an ambulance and was taking Penny to the hospital in Fresno. When I got to the hospital that afternoon, she had been in surgery for about an hour. She came out of it in relatively good shape and we knew she would have a long recovery, but all was good. The next day sounded encouraging and we started planning her rehab stint.

Penny passed away the next morning. She was strong until the end and it finally became more than she could handle. As the family gathered in the room with her in those final moments, we all just quietly talked and everyone tried to look composed. When Penny’s time was up, I looked around the room for a few seconds and tried to keep my own composure. I didn’t want to remember her like this. I had never seen anyone die before and the moment was so surreal. Just a few days ago, Penny had been struggling, but she was recovering. Now, I just could not believe she was gone.

Susie and I took a little time off last week and went to the coast for a few days. Penny loved the Central Coast and wine tasting. Susie and her went to Paso Robles and Cambria when they could and always had a big time. Kind of weird how we planned this trip before she passed and here we were, traveling to one of Penny’s favorite spots.  After the drive up California 1 from Big Sur to San Francisco, and then over to Sonoma and Napa, Susie and I were sitting in our back yard talking about our trip. Susie and Penny would always discuss the week’s events and Penny loved to hear about our adventures in our new homeland of California. Susie held a

 tear back and painfully said, ”I don’t have anyone to tell about my trip now.” 

Everyone, if even for a moment, should have a friend like Ms. C.