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Don’t look at me … Steve started
it. Oh yes, it’s still us, the supreme court of coffee and anything
ridiculous. And yes, we’re ensconced once again within the hallowed
halls of the Mule Barn coffee shop. Just about like every morning.
But today, Steve, our beloved ranch cowboy and fine-feathered
farrier, broke into song to bring back memories of high remote
camps, log-sitting around fires, and trips to town and whatever
girls we might scare up.
From his end of the counter, Steve began, “Oh, you don’t know what
lonesome is, ‘til you start herdin’ co-o-o-o-o-ws!”
And there has to be at least five o’s in cows or it doesn’t count.
Yep, that lack of attention to detail would automatically brand this
as coming from someone on the radio, but with a long-drawn out cows
….. most of us knew the source. Not Doc and Herb, as they didn’t
share the same history of bunkhouse life the rest of us shared some
40 years back.
The rest of were laughing so hard at the memories that we couldn’t
swallow coffee. Windy spilled his all over the sugar packets.
“Okay,” said Doc, “I’ll ask. Where’s the song from?”
“Ain’t the song, Doc,” said Steve. “It’s the singer.”
“Three-Chord Cortez!”
“Let’s hear it for T.C.!”
“Bunkhouse at the pack station?”
“And the ranches … in the winter.”
“But most memorably,” added Steve, “at houses in town. After dark.
Houses that sheltered a female of eligible age. Three-Chord was a
firm believer in old-fashioned courtship. So he’d go over to a
girl’s house after dark and sing. All together now.” [to top of second
column] |
“You don’t know
what lonesome is, ‘til you start herdin’ co-o-o-o-o-ws!”
It sounded better when the whole chorus sang along.
“And he’d practice it in the bunkhouses and horse back up in the
back country and scaring gophers in the valley’s alfalfa fields.”
“Did it work?” asked Herb.
“Well,” said Steve, “sometimes the girl’s father would invite him in
just so he wouldn’t wake the neighbors.”
“One thing mighta helped a bunch, though,” added Windy. “I really
think he’d ‘ve done better if he knew the words to the rest of the
song.”
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
Brought to you by
Dogsled, A True Tale of the North, by Slim Randles. Available darn
near everywhere.
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