In Gold Country

#53 - Sing Song - “Do it, Streak!” “Play some, Alex!” and other encouragements set the stage as Alex looked around. He nodded “OK” and moved closer to the fire.

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This week’s song – A cover of Hank Williams’“Kaw-Liga”

– from my CD - GONE COWBOY

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 Chaps – 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 

#6 - Sing Song - 

“Do it, Streak!” “Play some, Alex!” and other encouragements set the stage as Alex looked around. He nodded “OK” and moved closer to the fire.  

Longino was near and I asked, “Longino, ‘Streak?’” 

“Yeah, it’s short for ‘Paystreak’. He has a nose for gold. I do better when he’s around. It’s uncanny. Say, James, call me ‘Gino’, alright?” 

I smiled, and nodded, “Alright, Gino.” 

“Thank you for asking me to play,” Alex said. He thought a second, looking at his guitar, and said, “You’ll probably know the words to this one, sing along if you want to.”

He began with the intro song of the “Gold Fever” show, Cyril May’s “Gold Fever.” Some did sing along but at the end, with the echoed “Gold Fever” chorus, almost all of us jumped in enthusiastically. It was a hoot! “Do another verse”, was called out, and Alex started up again, with the same ending result, only louder. 

He gave the audience a “thumbs up” for their participation.  

“I put this song together recently. This is as good a time as any to try it out. This fellow lost his gal, but he said he ‘couldn’t lose her memory.’ That made him a winner in the end. Here’s how it goes.” 

It was a catchy little song, the hook line “I can’t lose your mem’ry, I win every time” repeated several times. A knee slapping foot stomper. Like a Cajun two step. Several folks were helping keep the beat. I thought of Granny and Jed from the Beverly Hillbillies. Slow Mo called out, “Take me home, son!” 

It ended with appreciative claps and hoots, and Alex nodded his thanks. 

He began, “I’ve taken a liking to Cowboy music. A couple of winters ago, I went to the Cowboy Poetry Gathering up in Elko. It was fine. The music was fine! And there were poets, reciting poems they had made up themselves, or reciting classics. One voice in a large hall. I found them fascinating. 

“A poet named Joel Nelson, has a poem called ‘Equus Caballus’. The Latin name for ‘Horse’. A singer guitar player, named Wylie Gustafson, put it to music. You probably know Wylie’s voice, even if you don’t know his name. He’s the guy who did the ‘Yahoo Yodel’ a few years ago. (Alex yodeled it. I remembered it.) I hope he made some good money for those few seconds. The song goes like this - -”   

It was a song about how the Horse has accompanied Man down through the ages, through good and bad, under kings or common man, treated good by the bad, and bad by the good, rode men to freedom and glory, or stood in surrender. He was gallant, noble, inbred, a nightmare gone wild, and Awesome. I couldn’t tell if anyone had heard it before. It ended and we held up in silence, and as we got our clapping going, he began again. 

“Another poet named Baxter Black has this poem, and Jack Hannah, from California’s ‘Sons of the San Joaquin,’ put it to music. It’s called ‘He just can’t be seen from the Road’ - -”  

Alex sang a verse, then stopped playing his guitar to recite the body of the poem. Just a voice on a backdrop of a sparking fire, trees, sky, and listeners. Then, he sang the first verse again. It was about the Hero on Horseback, his big hat and boots, The Code, and wide-open spaces, The Call of the Wild, leaving home and heading West, of coyotes and buffalo and deer and antelope, the Cowboy and his Horse, and Cattle, and Stars in our Eyes. 

Again, when the song was done, we were slow to respond. I think we were caught up in the story he was telling. But show our appreciation we did, as Alex took a couple of steps to the side and kicked over a couple of logs for the fire. He reached down to pick them up and put them in the fire. 

Not seeing any sign of “That’s enough!” he said, “Corb Lund, from Alberta, has a fine song. It goes like this - -”  

He was off on another. “The Truth Comes Out - - ” and whiskey, building the fire, Chinooks, cougars stealing young colts, funny weather, grizzlies ‘round the bend, voices from graves, white man, red man, and antelope mourning the buffalo. All faces reflected the firelight. The song faded into the night. 

“That’s it folks. Thank y’all, very much. Thanks for the memory.” he said sincerely, as we clapped.

Slow Mo called out, “Not yet! One more!” 

“Do it!” we echoed.   

“Are you sure? I don’t want to wear out my welcome. Thank you!” He reached his hands toward the warmth of the fire. “Just a sec, my fingers are getting cold.” 

Gino stepped up and handed him one of the fifths from the table. “This will warm you up.” The swig, as it burned its way down the pipe, was seen in his face. 

“Oh, yeah, that works! Thanks, Gino.” Handing the fifth back, shook himself and rubbed his fingers together. He played the lick from ZZ Top’s “Sharp Dressed Man.” I thought he was going to play the song, but he stopped. 

“It was a beautiful day, today! - -” He jumped into Tom Petty’s “Runnin’ Down a Dream”. And when the ‘Runnin’ Down a Dream’ and the ‘oo-oos’ rang out, Alex had company. It was fun. 

Alex was smiling at the response and said, “Thank you very much, and Gold Luck to you!” We gave him another round of applause as he stepped over to the firewood, picked up another log, put it on the fire, and returned to the group with handshakes and pats on the shoulders and “Way to play, Streak!” I saw him say “Wow! What a kick!” 

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