Eddie Cochran - 1958 - Summertime Blues [originally posted on 2/5/2009]

[Note from the editor, Shlepcar (Chris Earley)]: This song is a selection by my totally awesome old man, the Vietnam vet, Marine, Harley rider and American Indian, Ray Earley. The write-up is via email, and I can't actually verify all of the claims, but I'm going to post what he wrote to me. If you've ever heard any of the stories from me of my Dad, or read about him in the 2007 version of this site, I hope you're happy as I am for his contribution. The tone has been set.]

Me (to my dad Ray): I've resurrected my old site, www.songotheday.com I encourage you to check it out, actually to register so you get the emails- it is an easy way to keep up with your oldest son

Ray:

OK Chris- Has anybody ever done anything on one of the greatest songs of all times? SUMMERTIME BLUES by the late great Eddie (Raymond) Cochran, DOB 10/03/1938-17/04/1960. I was 13 or 14 when “Summertime Blues” was first played on KDWB in Minneapolis. I fuckin' went crazy when I heard this song at 15. I had a '51 Ford “Vicky” dual-exhaust. The springs had been heated to collapse them and make it a low rider. I had put speakers behind the grill, so everyone else could hear Eddie, or the”Big Bopper” (Chantilly Lace), the Impalas, or the Del Vikings. 

When Eddie Cochran was killed in England, I actually got pissed-off drunk! We mourned him!! Albert Lea, Minnesota has Eddie Cochran Days in June, but I believe he was originally from Oklahoma.

People born in Minnesota sound nasally..like Bob Dylan! 

Me: Thanks for this- would you like me to post it to the site?

Ray:

Boozhoo Chris: Post it. You need an old fart to remind youse where the “music” came from. Back in those days everyone dug Elvis, which was ok, but Eddie Cochran was a musician.  He could play a guitar; Elvis strummed along. After the 'MUSIC DIED' and then Eddie, I was in “Dinkytown” in 1963 AND HEARD “SPIDER JOHN KOERNER. He played with Dave “Snaker” Ray, Tony “Little Sun” Glover on “Blues,Rags and Hollers”.

I lived on the West Bank, and partied with the boys in the late 60s, which led me to the blues: guys like Sonny Terry and Brownie MaGhee, Muddy Waters, and Bo Diddley. 

The Beatles sucked. Girls loved them. I hated them.

Dave Ray died of cancer a few ago. Tony Glover is still kickin', and John Koerner still plays the bars. Electra recorded a few of their albums, but spent their Wad on The Doors. 

Chris, you were conceived while “Blues, Rags and Hollers” was playin' in the 8-track player of my '67 Mustang Convertible.

Love Pop

Me: Thanks Pop! lu

-Ray Earley

Koerner, Ray and Glover - 1962 - Jimmy Bell [originally posted on 4/11/2009]

Boozhoo (Ojibway hello),

I listen to a lot of dead people (i.e.Jim Morrison, Eddie Cochran, J.P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson).These guys featured are: John Koerner (an old 'drink til we tipped over' bud), Dave Ray (died of cancer Thanksgiving Day 2002), and Tony Glover (blues harp player who worked as a DJ for KRQS shortly after they hit the airwaves in 1969...he'd play songs all night and before he went off the air he was known to utter “OK”). As South Minneapolis white boys, they found a collection of old “negro” blues (before “black” was coined popular). Most of these 78s were of Leadbelly. This was back in the 50s and the music world ain't been the same since. 

According to their history, some of the people they influenced were Bob Dylan, The Beatles... 

But who gives a fuck about all that shit. All I know is I found them playing in bars- Triangle, the Viking, the 400. It was 1968, and I had just come home from Vietnam. I lived in an area called the West Bank in South Minneapolis, near the University of Minnesota, where I was trying to go to school. I rode a 68 XLCH SPORTSTER, made by Harley-Davidson. 

The West Bank is on the Mississippi across the river from the U. It had a lot of old rental houses with day-glo painted doors. This is the area that I wanted...wine, women and song. The Veterans Administration were paying me to go to school. They took attendance. But I lived in a party house where a lot of drinkin' and smokin' was goin' on. It left me little time for school. I think I made it two quarters, then I met Christopher's ma! Then I joined “Vietnam Veterans Against the War”- fuck it all. We needed to raise funs, I mean FUNDS. The March on DC to stop the war, “Winter Soldier” and then defending ourselves against Nixon and his Henchmen. Goddamn it was phun...getting charged in the district, “The United States of America vs. Ray Earley”!! PHUCKIN' RIGHT ON!!! Oh, John Koerner sang and played free to raise funds to send us to D.C. John is now in his 70s and still plays the bars!!I'm so phuckin happy Obama got elected!!I gotta go to a funeral today. 

Naygwonabe (RUFFLED FEATHERS)

Jamey Johnson - 2008 - High Cost of Living [originally posted on 6/16/2009]

This here is a country song. I grew up hearin' “shit-kickin'“ songs, as we called them. I lost interest until Waylon and Willie came back along. I've been to Willie's Fourth of July Party. 

Anywho... This is Jamey Johnson. He covers some of Waylon's songs, but I like his own writing. One of my favorites is “High Cost of Living” from the Sound of him being released. I've been there - I know what the cost of gettin' high is about! This here is a blues song, written and sung by a country singer, who is one of the best to come down that road in awhile. 

Redbone - 1974 - Come and Get Your Love [originally posted on 7/13/2009]

“Redbone” is an old Cajun term meaning ‘dark skin’ or ‘mixed blood’. Pat and Lolly Vasques - YAQI brothers - had been around for awhile. They met, partied and played with Jimi Hendrix, who was part Native American. Hendrix persuaded the brothers to form a Native American band, thus resulting in Redbone. Along came the American Indian Movement (AIM) who had attracted the thousands of Native Youth who lived in the large urban areas where their families had been relocated by the “Bureau” - Bureau of Indian Affairs, in an effort to assimilate them. It being the 70s, it was the Movement’s heyday with its march on Washington and its takeover of the B.I.A. Redbone played continuously on 8-tracks that every old “rez” car was equipped with. “Come andGet Your Love”, “Witch Queen of New Orleans,” “Maggie” - I’ve known numerous young girls named Maggie (my daughter was named Corrina, Maggie being a close second). 

Anywho, back to the band. Redbone knew how to put on a show. They would finish their sets with “Fancy Dancers” in Regalia, THE “Rock n Rollers of Pow-Wows”. The Band came to an end in the 80s. Their effort to reunite have been a loss - old age, strokes.

I still have my 8-track! 

Leon Russell - 1972 - Tight Rope [originally posted on 7/22/2009]

Back in the 1970s, I had this friend who rode a Harley-Davidson. So did I – it’s how we became friends. Anywho, he would get these jobs at the Auditorium or the old Minneapolis Armory working security for bands that played their gigs there. Sometimes we partied with them or we were paid other than money.

One night we got a Leon Russell gig. “Fat Frank” had set it up. I was a Russell fan (I owned an 8-track of his!). So back at the auditorium we held the “teenies” off. When it was over we had to wait until receipts were counted and divvied up and the trucks were loaded - Russell had a large entourage, a lot of speakers, instruments, and costumes. 

While the crew was tearing down we partied hearty. Ol’ Leon came out to thank us and as he got to “Fat Frank”, Frank pointed to the beaver skin hat on Russell's head that was popular for a coupla hundred years or more in London and says “NICE HAT” where then Leon removed it from his head, and said, ”It's yours, man”. 

 Ol’ Frank couldn't believe it. That beaver skin hat sat on Frank’s mantle for 20 years- anyone who knew “Fat Frank” knew where that Hat came from - until one day Frank was ripped off. Poor Frank never got over it.

Anyhow, as we got old and started dyin’ off, Frank organized the “OLD FARTS” party. For the last ten springs we had met and partied - not as hearty! - up on the Mississippi River. Two years ago Frank died from diabetes. He had a huge funeral. Bikers from all over. That’s why he had organized the 'OLD FARTS' - so we would know when someone kicked off. Before Frank died, he got a call from a woman requesting he visit her dying husband who was wanting to confess that he had stolen and sold The Leon Russell Hat. Frank's response was “Fuck him!” Anyway, Leon has always been good!

R.I.P. FRANK!!!

Rat

Golden Earring - 1973 - Radar Love [originally posted on 7/30/2009]

“Radar Love” became a hit in the early 70s. Back in the day when straddlin’ your hog, you checked your belt, Buck knife - check, inside your leathers, in your vest, an 8-ball of crank - check. 

This was before it became popular and the so-called epidemic drug it became after the US Government was burnin’ itself out in goin’ after that high-priced Yuppie Shit called cocaine. 

ANYHOO, this song is by the world’s oldest rock band 'Golden Earring'. They were Dutch and have been together since 1961, still playin’ now.

On runs we would stop in a small town bar, snort a Buck of Crank, hit the head, and order a beer. Beer kept the Crank down, Crank kept the Beer mellow, and NO one was the wiser. “RADAR LOVE” WAS THE ONLY SONG WE PLAYED! Then it was onto the next stop, usually an hour, or whenever we needed Gas!!

RADAR LOVE!

David Rose and His Orchestra - 1962 - The Stripper [originally posted on 8/6/2009]

It was 1962 and a movie called Gypsy came out. Anyhoo, us Catholics weren't supposed to go or we would go to

HELL! So we went…had to drive to Minneapolis. A composer by the name of David Rose wrote his biggest hit called “The Stripper”. Oh man, we loved that music (instrumental). We would start to pretend we were strippin’-drinkin’ and dancin’ around the fire. The top 40 stations all played it and then times changed. 

Along came Vietnam and a whole bunch of other shit, But I never forgot that song and bought the album...

1974, I was in trouble. They wanted to lock my innocent ass up (check kiting?) [Ed. Note: did youmean semi-innocent?] So I got A JOB! First time I worked for someone else and also was supposed to quit drinking alcohol.

I'm a good welder. After testing, I was hired. I started that day, second shift, welding augers for a large farm machinery manufacturer. Turned out I was the best welder they had. My foreman used to send me next door so the slow welders could catch up. Anywhoo, it was a strip bar. So me and my assistant would weld up 8 augers before the first break then sit in the bar until it was time to go home. 

Times were tough back in ’74- the country was going through a recession. So the Company was bought by some Bible Thumpers out of Missouri. They used to start a shift by all praying in a circle, which being a BORN AGAIN PAGAN, I refused to join in on. That was my first mistake. I should have shined those inbreds on. A few months later they threw the employees a Christmas party at a local night club. I hadn't intended on going and me and my partner were sittin’ in the bar, which was empty. In walks my foreman- a decent enough guy. “Hey come on! Let’s go to the party”, where he pulls out a roll of drink tickets and places them on the bar. Nursing a beer, one of the strippers walks in only to be told by the bartender that they wouldn't need her today as everyone was at the Christmas party. She came over and sat down on a stool. We soon had our heads together and after a brief discussion, we decided to give them a Christmas present.

The stripper went into the dressing room and changed into her costume. We all climbed into my truck and drove over to the nightclub. The shrimp and steak dinners were being passed out, and these old farts were looking cautiously at my stripper- the same one that they would stuff dollars in her G-String trying to kiss a titty. I told her to wait backstage and I WOULD GET THE MUSIC STARTED. As soon as everyone was served- all 250 people- I stopped by the band and passed out $100.00 in drink tickets (I had $500 worth!). “Play me David Rose’s 'The Stripper!' “

When I opened the curtain, there she stood in an evening gown. ”Merry Christmas everyone” she said. As the music started, off came her gown, and then she danced.

“Hi Louie, Hi Roger”…but no one heard her. It was assholes and elbows heading for the exits.

“Hypocrites!” I yelled.

We went back to the bar after cashing in $400 in drink tickets. Monday afternoon I went to work. Walking onto the Floor I caught a few snickers, but most wouldn't look at me. I went to check-in. My time card had a note and check in it saying I wasn't needed. A few months later I heard the plant closed for good and the Bible thumpers went back to Missouri.

Dion - 1968 - Abraham, Martin and John [originally posted on 8/27/09]

WOKE UP THIS MORNING to the news of another dead Kennedy! That’s number three now in my lifetime.

IT WAS 1960 and the good Catholic nuns had us all praying for John Kennedy and raising money for his election as the 1st Catholic Prez. I wonder what they woulda thought of Marilyn Monroe?   I WOULD BE IN THE MARINES - at the old Camp Matthews rifle range when he was assassinated in Dallas on 22 November 1963. I remember all the drill instructors were telling us this remarkable piece of marksmanship had been performed by a former Marine!!!  ASSHOLES!!

IT WAS 1968- I would be lying in the Minneapolis VA Hospital, having just come out of surgery and the news was Kennedy had been assassinated in L.A. Man, have these people got this all fucked up! It Was Dallas! Dipshits! It would be a couple of days before my head cleared up enough to figure it out.

AS A MEMBER of Vietnam Veterans Against the War, we would lobby Congress in 1972 to set up a Discharge Review Board. The DOD was passin’ out administrative discharges to Nam vets who, on their way out of Vietnam, were being questioned on drug use. If they admitted to smoking “pot”, the FUCKS wrote them an Administrative Discharge - WHICH WAS GOOD FOR NOTHING. Sen. Ted Kennedy was a big help in getting this Bill Passed to set up the committee [to aid the Vietnam Veterans Against the War]. His bud, and rising political star at the time, was John Kerry who spoke for us at a joint session of Congress! A few signs were spotted “Free John Kerry’s Maid”.Ol’ Ted would invite us to his Virginia Farm where he threw a buncha Nam Vets a wild party! With his death this morning, I thought of this song Dion covered.

RAT-A TAT TAT 

Bobby Bare - 1963 - All-American Boy [originally posted on 9/3/2009]

This here song was one of my favorites back in the early 60s. I had myself a car, and guitar - couldn't play a lick. Traded that Gibson for a bow ‘n arrow and a box of beer.

What ol’ Bobby Bare was singin’ about was what would happen to a lot of us in the 60s when UNCLE SAM would say. ”Here I am”. IT WAS CALLED THE DRAFT. It was a lottery. You registered, and ol Uncle Sam, Local draft boards, PULLED a number out - like it was Bingo - and your number was in that sequence. 

You was headed for S. VIETNAM, for maybe for the rest of your life. There were ways to get deferments (Ol Dick Chenney had five of ‘em). And then there was a beautiful country called Canada. A cousin of mine still lives there.

Anywhoo… ol Bobby got drafted and his record Co. credited Bill Parsons with this NUMBAH 2 HIT. Talk about pissin’ on your shirt tail! It would take a few years before Bobby Bare would get his due, but eventually he would. He went country after getting’ out of the Army. He served his tour in Germany.

PARTY HEARTY, DRINK ONE FOR Me! 

Miigwich Naygwonabe. That’s Ojibwe, thanks from Ruffled Feathers, First Chief of the Mille Lacs Band! Rat

Scott McKenzie - 1967 - San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair) [originally posted on 9/13/2009]

1968 - I came home from the far east.

SINCE I was 17, I had been in Hawaii, Okinawa, Thailand, the Philippines, Australia, and two tours of Vietnam. After 4 years and 4 months, I was getting out of the US Marines at 21. Having been in all these countries, I had sampled their beer and “skivvy houses”. The cost for a “Shortime”, or “Boom-Boom, ME Love You Forever! Girl” was $2.00 to $5.00, a fair price indeed. It was heaven. Anywhoo, my point being, after getting my young ass laid hundreds of times, from Hotel St. Honolulu to “Dogpatch” Danang, I hadn’t caught anything- no clap, no crabs, no anything!    

Golden Gate State Park, Feb 1968. Me and a few friends had been in Hue City for the beginning of the “Tet Offensive”. We were Combat Marines having just come out of battle! Tight as a drum, we were wired for sound. This may be the first you have heard, but combat makes you horny! 

Anywhoo, we were in the park, a couple million hippies, lotsa grass and other shit. This hippie chick comes up to me, I pass along a joint. When she asked “D’ya wanna ball?”, having no idea what she meant, I looked at my friends questioningly. She wants to FUCK YOU DUMMIE! A BOOM-BOOM GIRL, I said! Into the bushes we went for 15 minutes! They timed me! Remember I said combat makes ye horny!

After the concert, I ended up downtown at the Marine Memorial Club, sitting alone at a table. This older woman - 40 something - sent over a bottle of beer. As I said thanks, I joined her at her table. Later at her high rise, she proved to be as horny as I was! In the AM I got up, dressed, threw $5 on the bed and caught a bus back to Oakview Naval Hospital. The next time a corpsman took my vitals, he noticed me itching my crotch, and after looking me over, said “You’re going into ISO! You have the crabs!”

After being treated for the crabs, they said a blood sample showed I had “the Clap” and I would have to spend a week in isolation! Great! A corpsman said “We are not obligated, but it would be a good idea to notify your last sexual partner.” I didn't know where to find that crab-clap infested hippie chick, but I had the old lady’s address. The Corpsmen gave me a tube of crab medication and said to tell her I had given her a dose! Upon arriving at her condo, she slammed her door in my face. I figured she was pissed after finding out she had the crabs. Wanting to be of some help, I shouted through her door “I brought you some medicine. Rub it on your pubic area and try and get some up your rectum! And you better get a blood test!” As I turned to leave I heard doors being shut and locked. 

Well anywhoo, I been doin’ good deeds since!

Rat-a tat-tat!

The Surfaris - 1963 - Surfer Joe [originally posted on 9/21/09]

During the early 1960s, there was the surf sound coming out of Southern California. Bands called Jan and Dean, The Beach Boys, Dick Dale and the Del-Tones, and along with dozens of others, these guys - The Surfaris. They all sang about what we midwesterners could only imagine: surfing, Hot Rods, partying on the beach.

Surfing became a lifestyle, influencing fashion - pants, shirts, hairstyles, and of course the “Woodie”, a little Ford station wagon with wood grain trim on the side. At the time, the media - Life, Look, and the big rags - all wrote the “Surfers” UP! I think it also caused one of the population growths in Southern California.

It was over in ‘65 when what was called the British Invasion showed up! Even George Lucas had John Milner

(AMERICAN GRAFFITI) Say “I DON'T LIKE THAT SURFIN SHIT” about a Beach Boys Tune!

Anyhoo, me and my folks and a Judge decided I should become a Marine, so in 1963 I became a Marine along with a bunch of guys that were relatives - the O’Conner’s, out of San Diego. They were a family of 13, consisting of famous swimmers, twins - one who would later become the Mayor of San Diego. They lived near the beach and taught me how to surf. The Marines also had a beach - Del Mar - and you could check out a surfboard for the weekend.

I became a good surfer. It was cheap and fun, especially for Marines. We were hated [by a lot of residents] in Southern California at the time! The surfers we met on the beach and partied with - wine drinkers all - listened to the Surfaris’ “Wipeout” and “Surfer Joe”, who in the song would become a Marine. They didn't think much of the Beach Boys, calling them the “Fat Boys”. 

Anywhoo, I loved this song/story. It was a sing-along. Oh yeah, I surfed China Beach in Danang, Vietnam in 1967, while on my in-country R+R! Ain't many can claim they surfed China Beach! Rat

Johnny Cash - 1964 - The Ballad of Ira Hayes [originally posted on 9/26/09]

“The Ballad of Ira Hayes”, penned by Peter LaFarge, was covered by singers such as Bob Dylan, Leon Russell, and the best was old Johnny Cash. Marine Native Americans loved this song. Played in clubs worldwide, the word would go out, WHEN PLAYED, Attention! and everyone in the club stood tall!

This song pretty much told you about Ira's Short life. I sure like the way John growls at the end of the song! Tony Curtis played Ira's story in a movie called The Outsider, which was played continuously, in Liberty Towns, near Camp Pendleton. Recently Clint Eastwood adapted the book, Flags of Our Fathers by James Bradley and Ron Powers. Adam Beach probably played Ira better than anyone has - could that be that Adam is Native? Ira Hayes is buried in section 34, Arlington National Cemetery if you care to visit him.

Semper Fi!

Rat

Peter, Paul & Mary - 1963 - Puff (The Magic Dragon) [originally posted on 10/3/2009]

Back around 1960 or so, there was a trio of folk singers who were known as Peter Paul and Mary. They had a few hits, but the only reason I listened to them was Mary Travers. The way she sang (a voice that was so smooth and sultry) and looked (long blond hair that she wore in bangs) - she was what nowadays would be called hot!

I don't think I ever bought any of their albums. They were played so often on the top 40 stations I knew their songs by heart. One of their songs was called “Puff the Magic Dragon” - a kid’s lullaby. It was also the name given to a “Gatling Gun'' used in Vietnam. The description is below. Having heard this gun workout, it sounds like an OLD MAN'S FART, ferrrrrrrrrrrrrrah! Long and DEADLY.

The United States Air Force flew its AC-47 gunships in Vietnam while utilizing the call sign “Spooky.” Each of the three Gatling guns (aka “mini-guns'') installed in “Puff” was capable of firing 100 rounds per second. That's 6,000 rounds per minute PER GUN and there were 3 guns. Apparently, to both friends and the enemy, the fire from the eighteen barrels and the tracer rounds reaching to the ground looked like a “dragon's breath.” That fiery breath and the loud roar of the guns led to the name, “Puff the Magic Dragon,” taken from a folk song by Peter, Paul and Mary, which was recorded and made famous in the early 1960s.  

Anywhoo, Ol’ Mary died of cancer just the other day.

RIP Mary!

RAT-A-TAT-TAT

Kenny Rogers & The First Edition - 1969 - Ruby, Don't Take Your Love to Town [originally posted on 10/10/2009]

A few months ago, my fellow Vietnam Vet, and Old Mud Marine, Annishinabe, Fond Du Lac Rez Resident, and beer drinkin’ bud Jim Northrup, offered my wife and I a free room at the Black Bear Casino, with the entertainment being Kenny Rogers. The casino and free room were what we needed. Kenny Rogers hadn't done anything for my ears since he had been with The First Edition. 

We went to the concert with the rest of the seniors and after warning the Old Ladies behind us not to be trying to throw their skivvies at Kenny, I dozed peacefully. That’s what Kenny sings - lullabies. What woke me was the First Edition had covered an old Mel Tillis song with the title of “Ruby, Don’t Take Your Love to Town”.  It was a country song with the story of a disabled vet who had a woman who was doin’ him wrong. 

When the song came out in ’69, I had been in and out of the local VA hospital. Later, I would also marry a Ruby, who turned out to be a lyin’, cheatin’, sneaky, two-timin’ bitch, who got everything I owned with the help of the courts - leaving me houseless, carless, and trustless!

ANYWHOO, back to Ruby. According to Tillis, his neighbor in Florida was a severely wounded WWII VETERAN who married his English nurse and brought her home. This Ruby liked to run around. In real life, this Vet knew he would be dead soon, so he took Ruby with him. He blew her away and then himself! So this song has been therapeutic for my sick ol’ ass!

I was happy to hear Ruby! 

RAT

The Eagles - 1972 - Take It Easy [originally posted on 10/18/2009]

 It was 1972. I was homeless, drank a lot, locked up, beat up a lot of people, rode a Harley I had built in welding class, owned a couple pairs of Levis, my leathers, and a cassette player and crashed wherever I was partying. Wife and I had split. 

I had gone to DC as a Vietnam Veteran against the War and was drinkin’ in this bar called the HAWK +DOVE. I was wearing a t-shirt that said “VIETNAM VETERANS AGAINST THE WAR”.  

Anywhoo… three dudes came up to me and said they was American Nazi's and they was gonna KILL ME!! I said I'm a CHIPPEWA from Minnesota and put all three of them sorry ass Bastards in the hosp, where upon I went to jail, where these Cubans who had been caught breakin’ into the Watergate were my cell mates. In court the next morning the Judge set up a court date and says I had to stick around. Six weeks later this Old Cherokee Lawyer got me off. 

Anywhoo, at the time I was one Violent Pissed off Combat Veteran who didn't give a fuck about anything, myself included. Years later after a few marriages and many jailings, I was hospitalized in the VA, where I was diagnosed with P.T.S.D. (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). One of the therapies the VA used was music, mostly classical, but I prefer Eagles “Take It Easy”. I keep the CD in my house, truck, and car and use it frequently after getting married again and having kids!

TAKE IT EASY!! 

Zac Brown Band - 2008 - Toes [originally posted on 10/24/2009]

I sometimes miss my shit kickin’ days. Growing up here in Minnysnowda we had two kinds of dancin’ music played at every wedding reception. Bride and groom could both be Polish, or it could be an interracial marriage, one could be German - it wouldn’t matter.

Anywhoo, after the nuptials were said there would be a reception, followed by a dance, where the band would be a Polka band - which is a accordion and a tuba - or a Country and Western Swing band with guitar, fiddle, and the guy with the harmonica also had a tambourine. 

As a young boy I loved these dances because the beer did flow and everyone drank! My point being, this here group called the Zac Brown Band, is a country band from Georgia. They do a lot of concerts and are scheduled to be at the U of M’s Northrop Auditorium come December.... That means they are good Folks! 

I always like seeing southern people, when they get here and it's 50 below windchill, roads closed from a “Northerner”. They are in shock! Having heard the song Toes, we here in this winter wonderland love to hear any song with reference to a beach, sun, and sand! 

”Are they singing about Mexico?”

“ Yeah, didn't you hear that Vaya Con Dios?”

“Jeez I'd sure like to go there!” 

“I would too, but I heard it's dangerous!” 

“Yeah I guess you’re right!” 

“You would have to leave your car at The Minneapolis Airport. I heard you could get hijacked and never be seen again.” 

“Yeah, or I could get their CD and wait for it to warm up in 6 months.” Ok see you in the spring. 

My Ass in the sand, and my Toes in the Water!  Rat

Jonny Lang - 1997 - Lie to Me [originally posted on 11/2/2009]

Ol' numba 2 had already emptied the joint account, left me $20.00, took the car, her kids, and headed down the road. We are done! she said. 

Sitting in that old rented duplex, I took stock of what she had left: my clothes, a black-n-white 13” tv, a few dishes, and a garage with my tools, and my Harley. I called some friends who were looking for a house, and after renting out three of the four bedrooms, I started feeling a little better about collecting rent and they moved in. I took the money, paid the rent, got my '68 Chevy pick-up running, bought plates, beer, and an 8-ball of crank.

The dope man was glad to see me again, so we snorted two lines gratis, see ya! With my new buzz, and case of beer, I headed home to sit in my garage. Plugging in the old “fridge” and storin' the beer, I sat on the couch...three beers to get that balance I like. I put the battery in my Hog, gassed it up, turned that “stroker” motor over with the kick starter, primed it, kicked it through. I got a whoomp, turning it over again, flicking the throttle, she fired off, filling that garage with exhaust noise. After she idled down, I rode her down the alley. 

Turning around, I cranked it on in first gear, hitting second, I flew past my open garage. Turning around at the other end of the alley, I idled back as the kids and dogs were looking over their backyard fences. Barks and waves, I got thumbs up and a few middle fingers. I parked it in the yard, and looked for my garden hose. 

Shirley- the girl who lived upstairs- came down. She had hung out with my wife, so she knew what the score was, nothing was said about wife's absence. I asked where's my hose? In the basement she said, I'll get it. After letting the bike cool, I sprayed the winter dust off her. She still had a shine to her old Chrome and flamed paint job. You want me to soap her down? Go ahead. 

Shirley's husband had left her homeless. She had moved upstairs to take care of her invalid Dad. They were a talkative couple- what she didn't know, he did. As she soaped the bike down I sat in my lawn chair and swigged a few beers down. Feeling good, I invited her into the Garage. I laid out two lines of “blow” and handed Shirley a straw. Go ahead. I did another one and we sat on the couch. Getting me another beer, she said you're gettin low. Tomorrow's Sunday. Gimme your truck keys, I'll get you another case -my Dad wants his brandy fix anyhow. Having a mellow buzz, I said go for it.

After Shirley did the errand we pushed the bike in. Snortin' some more crank and having locked the garage, we sat on the lawn chairs listening to music. Shirley started questioning me. 

“Can I ask how you hurt your leg?” 

Feeling no pain, I answered her: “The war.” 

“Did you get shot?” 

“Yeah in the cheek of my ass. It took most of it off.” 

“What off?” she said. 

Wanting to end it, I said “my DICK!!! That's all you need to know!” 

“Wow, now I know why your wife left.” 

We sat in silence. I finished my beer and said “I'm going in.” As we got to my door, Shirley grabbed my hand. 

“Can I stay with you tonight?” 

“Yeah, okay” I said. “Keep to your side of the bed.” Once between the sheets Shirley grabbed my hand and put it between her legs, hot and wet. I dragged her over to me, mounting and sliding into her. She screamed “Your DICK didn't get shot off! YOU LIED TO ME!!!” “You just had to find out!” I said.

Tammy Wynette - 1968 - D-I-V-O-R-C-E [originally posted on 11/8/2009]

My son Chris was a youngster when his Ma and I parted ways. She took a “vacation”, so he lived with me for a while. My twin sister and Christopher's grandmother, Mrs. Earley, rescued him from me. No more motorcycle runs, or fetchin' another beer for me, or some of the nasty women I was seeing. There was an ex-hooker who rode her own Harley, who threatened to “deflower” Chris by his 15th b-day!

Anywhoo Chris ended up moving to a farm and living with his cousins, my twin sister and her husband. They were determined to give him a “proper” upbringing. They were also of the religious right-wing persuasion-something I'm against! I would visit Chris at their farm. Usually it was a holiday, or when I was invited to his Grandmother's farm where, after I was adopted as a child, I was raised to be a good Catholic by “Mrs. Earley”. She was called this by everyone. Being a registered OB nurse in a small town hospital, she had been in the delivery room of every rugrat that was conceived within 50 miles.

Anywhoo they set out to show Chris the error of my ways. One of them was to take him to the Catholic church so he would some day go to Heaven or Hell. Oh would they get pissed when I would say that! So after buying a white shirt and tie, Mrs. Earley and Chris walked into the Immaculate Conception Church to her favorite pew. Everyone got a good look at Mrs. Earley's grandson.  ”Oh he was dressed so nice”- which is a biggy in Catholic Churches! As the mass proceeded, Chris, who was 4 years old at the time, got restless. Finally it was time for the sermon. 

As the Old Windbag Priest paused, Chris said in a loud voice “JESUS CHRIST Grandma! When can we go?” Whereupon Mrs Earley with Chris in tow, proceeded to the side exit door looking for the fastest way out of Church! Later she told me how embarrassed she was and that it was my fault, teaching Chris how to swear! My claim was he was praying!! She never took Chris to church again! 

Later they would get their payback on me, lying about where Chris lived with his ma. It would be years before I saw my son again!

-Rat

Arlo Guthrie - 1969 - Alice's Restaurant Massacree [originally posted on 11/23/2009]

Being a Vietnam veteran, after I was discharged from the Marines I became anti-war. It seemed reasonable to me at the time that what I was saying would happen would happen, and it did!   I took a lot of shit from those pro-war assholes, you know, the draft dodgin' bunch like Repugnican Dick Cheney. My fondest desire would have been to see Dick Cheney humpin' a M-60 in the Que Sahn Mountains or driving the lead truck on a Rough Rider Resupply Convoy west on Route #9 out to the Marines who would become surrounded by the NVA (North Vietnam Army) at the Khe Sanh...

1967. With the War going on, Arlo Guthrie, eldest son of Woodie, composed this true life song.  Every male upon turning 18 had to register for the draft. If you didn't you could be sent to prison. This 18 1/2 minute song is all about what Arlo experienced when he went down to Whitehall St. in New York to take his draft physical. Listen to the song- Arlo explains everything! Draft dodgin' Cheney got 5 deferments from his draft board! 

Anywhoo- I got a threatenin' letter from my own draft board in 1969. I hadn't ever registered! I appeared before them in person, on my crutches, and told them to “Kiss My ASS!” What could they do? I had already done two tours. 

Peace on ya!  Rat

Delbert McClinton - 1975 - Two More Bottles of Wine [originally posted on 11/29/2009]

In the early 70s, times were tough. I worked day labor, partied often, did crank when crank usta be a bikers drug. My costs were high and income low!!

Anywhoo, once in a while I would stumble on a job. Like this one: The Jewish Community Center needed a janitor. I applied and was hired. It was a new building with a workout center, gym and pool. A night job, I had to stay inside the building. I found out if I walked through the doors, a silent alarm alerted the local police who would respond quickly as the members of this center were some of the wealthiest people in Minnesota.

A few weeks later I had this job down. It could be done in 4 hours. I would bring my alarm clock and sleep the other 4 hours- the silent alarm was on a time lock, which meant from 11 to 7 no one was allowed in or out.

Paydays I would show up early. A young Rabbi would have my check and pass on anything I needed to know. As weeks went by and the weather began cooling, I started driving my powered gray primed 58 Ford 1/2 ton. It was very noticeable among the Caddy's and Lincolns. The young Rabbi noticed my pickup and asked if I could haul some non kosher wine away? Hummm I said, taking a set of keys off his desk. He opened a storeroom, whereupon stood cases and cases of wine stacked to the ceiling. Hummm I said. It's gonna take awhile if I take a load every morning.

In the morning I took my first load home. Stacking it on the porch, I told my roommates to help themselves. That 50 x 12 foot porch became a wino's dream. It became a problem! ”Hey Man you gotta start dropping this shit somewhere else. We can't handle anymore!” My roommates had enough! I might have mentionedI'm Ojibwa or Annishinabe, we are also called Chippewa....Driving over to my Aunties House, which was a huge old 3 story, her son - my cousin - and his family had the second floor.

Anywhoo everyone partied when they could, and were happy to get the wine! Livin' in “Indian Country” they knew everyone, especially the Minneapolis Police, who were known as “pigs” in those days. The party started. In a few weeks, the pigs had busted the parties when they spilled out into the street. My Auntie said no more!

Hey my cousin said, I know where you can get rid of that wine! Wino park! Come on! We drove to the park, where we saw a lot of people layin' around. Standing in the back of the truck holding up bottles, yelling a “BUCK A BOTTLE”, we drove slowly around the park. Within an hour, me and my 'cuz' had sold all the wine! Handing me$250.00, I counted him back $125.00. You sure? he asked.

Within the next few months, we had both made enough to keep us in dope, beer, groceries... the rent got paid and I bought another Harley to fix up! We were doing good - it couldn't last!

The end came one morning when the Minneapolis cops descended on us. The guy who owned the Liquor

store next to the park had called the cops!! We had been cutting into his domain!  We were thrown to the ground, handcuffed and hauled off to Jail. Eventually after months of court hearings, with all our money eaten up by defense attorneys, we settled with a fine. We were broke and I was out of a job. I had sent one of my roommates to apply, and after getting my old job, he would become the most successful “bootlegger” in S. Mpls. He sold out of his garage...

“Two More Bottles Of Wine” Delbert McClinton, one of the best Texas bluesman I've ever heard!

Rat