Chuck Wagon Calhoun - Thar's Gold In Them Thar Hills!

 

Chuck Wagon Calhoun sings his latest about seeking his fortune by prospecting for gold. He's not prospected before, but he knows what he needs to do it. A grubstake, pick and shovel...and a mule to do the heavy work. So he finds a prospector that made his fortune and no longer needed his mule named Euripides. So he made a good price to Chuck Wagon, bought him and headed up to the mountains. Chuck Wagon's got prior experience got prior experience dealing with a mule, in fact the mule Ol' Tom was the subject of Chuck Wagon's premiere recording with Big And Tall Records. And as with Ol' Tom, trouble brews with Euripides as well. As with all of Chuck Wagon's endeavors, he loses interest and moved on to his next adventure...after he sells Euripides...Rip as Chuck Wagon calls him! So what adventure and profession awaits our tall tale teller? Stay tuned and find out! 

Howdy!
Ma name’s Chuck Wagon Calhoun.
I’m fixin’ to jack ma jaw at ya ‘bout
The time I deserted the world and went prospectin’…
FER THAT YELLER STUFF WE GO NUTS OVER!!
YEE HAW YA’LL!
 
Had ‘nough of gittin’ my ass shot at and beat
So I heerd ‘bout some dudes stakin’ claims
Way up in the hills findin’ gold nuggets big
So I sold all my stuff and went to do the same
 
Thar’s gold in them thar hills, say the ol’ timers
Nuggets found as big as a chicken egg
Got me a grub stake and a pick an a shovel
Now all I need’s a mule, then stretch ma legs!
 
Now I done worked with mules afore now.
Git a good one, they help out a lot
Git a bad one, all they do is eat and shit
Best save yer money with a pistol shot…
 
Thar’s gold in them thar hills, say the ol’ timers
Found me a miner that done struck it rich
Didn’t have no need fer a mule no more
He said he were a good worker…(lying sum a bitch!)
 
Couldn’t believe when he tol’ me the mules name
He called the ol’ mule Euripides
What the hell kind a name fer a mule is that?
Some ol’ Greek dude what wrote tragedies?
 
Thar’s gold in them thar hills, said the ol’ timer
Best keep callin’him the same name
If ya change it, he prolly won’t answer
He’s a good boy, will mind ye, and tame!
 
So I tried to shorten his name to Rip
I hollered it and to my side he did trip
So we gathered ourselves and got on the trail
And he follered me long side my hip
 
Thar’s gold in them thar hills, but whar’s it at?
Me and Rip fer a month searched for mother lode
My back was a achin’, my knees were a shakin’!
Went further and further down the road
 
Now it seems the further we traveled
I were carryin’ more of the weight
Ol’ Rip was a lolligaggin’
He best shape up, git goin’ straight!
 
Thar’s gold in them that hills, OH YEAH?
My ass is sorely draggin’
Ol’ Rip wants to sit under the shade tree
His part of the deal shore is flaggin’
 
Come to a head one damned hot sultry day
The sun beatin’ down on my brow
Ol’ Rip sittin’ in the shade of a tree
My patience really snapped somehow
 
Thar’s gold in them thar hills, ya goddam mule!
No mo gonna give ya a pass
I picked up a big ol’ tree limb
And was fixin’ to beat his ass!
 
He looked at me with his big brown eyes
As I was fixin’ to give him a whallop
Brayed a couple times like he t’were laughin’
And suddenly he grunted and sprang up
 
Thar’s gold in them thar hills, he seemed to say
But it shore ain’t worth all of this trouble
He walked ovah to me, nuzzled ma hand
I dropped the big club on the double
 
[Spoken word]
It took that stubborn old mule to make me see the error of my ways.
What the hell good is gold if you're all cobbled up from findin' it?
So I sat with him in the shade of the tree,
Scratched him under the chin like he liked,
Vowed to quit prospectin', and then told old Rip I thanked him-
Then I sold that goddamn stubborn no good
Consarned lazy fuckin' mule!
And I told the dumbass what bought him he's a good worker!

Buzzy Carlyle's Protégé - Tuning Fork Turner

At one of Buzzy Carlyle's Recording sessions, he brought along his protégé blues guitarist Tuning Fork Turner. After Buzzy laid down his song, he had the engineers keep the recording going, and gave a chance to Tuning Fork to let us know what he can do. The results were not very well received by Buzzy, or by Big And Tall Records. Buzzy lets his feeling be known on the recording after Tuning Fork was finished, in fact Buzzy cut him short. We've had this recording for a while, and Buzzy finally told us to release it, as he's finally got Tunin' Fork to playing real blues, and not just a bunch of theoretical microtones and key changes. There is an ensuing recording of Tunin' Fork coming soon, and Buzzy wanted the comparisons between this recording and his new one.

We sat down with Buzzy to talk about this new artist, who we already have a short term contract with on Buzzy's  recommendation. 

BTR - We admit, Buzzy, after hearing the example of Tunin' Fork's playing on the demo, we seriously considered whether he was worth even a short term contract. 

Buzzy - Man, cain't say I blame ya! The kid blew his golden chance that I give him. That's for sure!

BTR - Why do you think he played the way he did? You've raved about his natural ability and talent!

Buzzy - Nerves. Didn't tell him I was gonna do it, first time he was in a recording studio and in front of a microphone. 

BTR - What in hell was he playing? Didn't sound like anything to us but some chord changes that didn't mesh, very little to no melody. 

Buzzy - That's for sure what it was. Goddam guitar noodlin's all! He's got all this formal education, and I respect that. But damn, you cain't be usin' all that fancy crap with playin' the blues startin' out! I've heerd some guitarists use some shit I didn't know what in hell they did, but they been playin' for years, and it fit. It was still the blues. This wasn't.

BTR - Sounds like he was doing a performing test for his theory professor!

Buzzy - Don't know 'bout that. Nevah had no theory m'self, outside what I just picked up. Didn't give a shit what in hell it was, I let him know what it wasn't!

BTR - We really enjoyed the way you spelled it out for him after you interrupted him!

Buzzy - Hell, that ain't nothin' the way I chewed his ass after the tape stopped! We had a knock down drag out for sure! Tol' him cut the fancy 'Music Perfesser' shit, and git down to playin' the blues I know you can do! You wanna keep playin' all that other crap, get the hell out my life and let me git 'nother player that wants to learn! 

BTR -How'd he react?

Buzzy - He stomped out of my room at the home, never said nothin' Thought that might be the end of it, but two days later he come back with his tail 'tween his legs and apologized up one side and down the other. I accepts, he kept apologizin' and I told him I didn't cotton to no ass kissin', mine, or anyone else's! But that he better respect me as much as I respect him and what I sees in him, and let's just git back to work!

BTR - So how's he doing now?

Buzzy - I had him play with other blues people, and especially with some blues singers I know. The kid can play along with the best of 'em. Picks up their style like he's been with 'em for years, and the singers he gitso n their same vibe and gives them a ton of support. Haven't let him play much solo. That seems to be when all the high and mighty shit comes in. Just what in hell is a microtone anyway? He tried explainin' it, told me it was like a note atween F-sharp and G. Now I ain't much for theory, but I know there ain't no note atween F-sharp and G. He retuned his guitar and played some microtones for me, and damn, they just sounded either too sharp or too flat to me!

BTR - It's difficult to understand if you don't know theory.

Buzzy - He tol' me microtones are bein' used right now, and he believed they'd be used in the blues as well. I kind a think it's like bendin' a note, but he says it's more than that. Not interested in arguin' with him. Might be blues in the future will have more microtines in it, but he's learnin' music like I play it! Than he can make his own style in that framework, then go on from there, and more power to him!

BTR - Okay, so tell us how he's doing now!

Buzzy - You seen him! Pockets full of tunin' fawks, metronomes, god only knows whatevah other music contraption! When we play together, he cain't stand to hear my 'dirty' tunin'. Takes us a while to get even in pitch, right on the wazoo. He got what they call perfect pitch. Play a note, he can tell ya what it is. I can kind a do that, but he can tell ya if it's an out of tune whatevah, and if it's sharp or flat! Right in thin air. No other notes playin'! Man, I'm glad I ain't got that! He says hearin' somethin' out of pitch hurts his ears. But he's learned to be intentionally out of pitch, to bend a note when he plays for expression. So yeah, he's come a long way since that demo. Wait 'til you hear him now! He's workin' on an original song too, a for real blues song he's gonna sing and play!

We at Big And Tall Records are excited to hear Tunin' Fork Turner on his upcoming record! 

Mams Carter - Rain On The Window Blues

We here at Big And Tall Records are always excited when we get a song form Mams Carter. We're big fans of her boogie-woogie songs, and there is no one that sings the blues like Mams! And we should know, for we've got a formidable catalog of blues singers, each one of them unique in their own way. What makes Mams different from the rest is  that she was a stay at home mom for years, raising her kids by herself after her husband passed away.  She played piano in church for years and her son Amos Carter, one of our artists as well, told us that when they didn't do what they should, she'd seldom holler, never spanked or hit them, but she would give them a solid lecture on why they should do what they should, and they'd end up singing church hymns afterwards! She didn't do it to punish them,but to try and instill in them good values. 

But Amos has said that it was torture for them, especially singing church hymns because his Mom would go through all the stanzas, and the number of hymns would b e commensurate with the degree of the 'crime'. Amos said, "Me and my other brothers would've rather had an ass whoppin', to tell the truth! But she knew what she was doing. We're not involved with the church any more (and neither is she) but we've all got an abiding respect for our heritage and we actually like church hymns!"

Mams didn't datge at all until her kids were older. Not been married again, but has had a few serious relationships that sadly have turned sour. She's always played here piano, an old upright they bought used years ago. Amos has tried to buy her a grand piano, but she always waved it off, said she liked her old upright. It's got character! Amos coaxed her into filling in when the piano player in his boogie-woogie band was out of commission for a while, and after the initial jitters, she took right off and started enjoying it. She played on a few recordings Amos made, and we heard how she could play boogie-woogie, and offered her a chance to make a demo.  That demo was so good, we released it: Who Needs It? The song did well enough that we offered her a contract, and she signed up. Her next song kind of surprised us. We had no idea she could write a song like this, or sing it so well :The Blues Done Got Me So Bad. Since those two releases she's followed the pattern of a snappy, boogie-woogie type song with a bluesy, meditative one. She knew what she wanted right off the bat with her blues songs; her solo piano and a string orchestra, and they always sound so good together! 

Like many a blues singer, she doesn't really give any specific reason for the blues she sings, except for the rainy day. But that's why the blues is such a wonderful form. From a hard driving blues to one in this style, there is a wide range of emotions and moods to choose from. Our producers tell us she has taught herself how to arrange her songs herself, including teaching her self orchestration for the strings. We're so very thankful such a talented musician is one of our artists! 

Rain on the window, mud in the yard
Air so thick it makes me breathe hard
My blouse is clinging like it knows my name
Every single corner is wet from the rain
 
I tried to shake it, but it's goin' slow
Weight on my shoulders, rain won't go
 
The rain has brought me down
(I'm feeling so blue)
I feel like skippin' town
(What am I gonna do?)
Humidity got me hot and damp
(Wanna wring myself dry)
Feels like my heart's in a clamp
(Keep askin' myself why)
 
Dirty pots in the sink... porch all wet
Keep thinking 'bout things... I can't forget
Cat's under the chair, the phone stays still
Even my old heart can't pay this bill
 
I tried to smile but the sky won
A damp blanket when the day is done
 
 Rain has dampened my heart
(I'm feeling so blue)
I just don't know where to start
(What am I gonna do?)
I feel so uptight, distressed
(Wanna wring myself dry)
My life right now is such a mess!
(Keep askin' myself why)
 
Maybe tomorrow the sun will glow
And I won't be feelin' so damn low
Tonight I'm an old shed with a leaking roof
Look at my eyes if you need proof
 
It's late, but I can't sleep
(I'm feeling so blue)
The blues has got me deep
(What am I gonna do?)
My body's wore out and tired
(Wanna wring myself dry)
But my mind is troubled... and wired
(Keep askin' myself why)
 

Tugboat Jackson - Gotta Have A Spade To Move The Dirt

The bluesman Tugboat Jackson returns!  He's been laid up with a serious health issue, and is just getting back in action. He tells us the tale, and it's a long one:

'Bout three months ago, I got out of bed and couldn't hardly walk. I've got a bad back. bad knees ,in general wore out, but this pain was different. Was in my hip, down my butt, into my thigh and calf. Didn't think much of it. just ook it easy the rest of the day. Next day I got up with the same pains, really didn't feel well, so just laid around all day again. But in the middle of the night the pain woke me up, and I knew I had a fever. Finally after a few hours, I felt so bad could walk only with terrible pain, so I called 911 and they took me to the hospital.

Ended up I had a 103 degree fever, and sepsis! They shot me up with heavy duty pain killers antibiotics. The pain wasn't stopping. I was admitted, a steady stream of tests and doctors kept trying to figure it out. An infectious disease doctor came in, and said all the bloodwork pointed to an infection, and suspected an abscess, but none of the x-rays showed where. After three days of more tests, CAT scans, ultrasounds, and an MRI, doctor ordered another MRI of a specific area in my back, and they found the abscess! It was on a a deep-seated muscle in my back, the psoas muscle, and the abscess was right next to the spinal cord! A neurosurgeon was brought in as the other doctors told me the abscess it needed to be drained. It was causing pressure on nerves and probably pressing on the spinal cord. No wonder the damned thing hurt! The neurosurgeon said he wouldn't touch it! Too dangerous, to get to it might cause damage to the spinal cord which could lead to paralysis of my legs - or worse! 

So more days in the hospital while cultures grew to find out exactly what bacteria caused it. When they got the result, a specific antibiotic was prescribed that had to be given through  an IV. So after I was released from the hospital I had 6 weeks of IV therapy every day to look forward to! After 6 weeks I had another MRI, and the damned thing was still there, and neurosurgeon still refused to drain it. So I went to the hospital every day for IV antibiotic treatments, saw the infectious disease doctor once a week, waited forever to get into the neurosurgeon, who said keep up the treatment and have another MRI in a month! So after 129 straight days of IV treatment, the neurosurgeon had yet another MRI done and declared the abscess was gone! 

The infectious disease doctor was nervous about keeping me on an antibiotic that long, but he also told me I couldn't take a chance with it coming back. If it came back, it would more likely be worse! So kept with, iot, lived through the pain, none of the pain medication really knocked it out until about a month after the treatment started. The educated me to not wait if any of the symptoms showed up again, as this kind of infection can be fatal! And as I'm diabetic, that was a contributing factor to me getting it in the first place (and my blood sugars are well controlled!) so I had a higher likelihood than most for it to reoccur! 

When we talked to Tugboat in the recording studio, he looked well and acted like his old self. Said he's feeling good now and got a lot of songs in his head!  

Bein’ hongry helps ya stand tall
Bein’ hongry can help ya stand tall
Yer work ain’t through
If the rent come due
Gotta git crackin’ fore ya fall
 
Gotta have a spade to move the dirt
Fo sho gotta have a spade to move the dirt
Best not delay
Gotta shovel yo way
If troubles ya wanna avert
 
Usin’ a laddah, look see who's left behind
All depends on who  ya’ll find
People broken, hongry and cryin'
While you try to take what is mine
Driven by a devious mind
 
Workin' hard is a good thing
Yes, workin' hard's a good thing
But not if it comes at the cost
Of another ones loss
Jest so ya get the brass ring
 
I’m tellin’ ya man to man
You know, it is man to man
If ya take the easy pass
Jest to  sit on yo ass
Then you ain't a real man!
 
Seen plenty not give a damn
Join in on all the flim-flam
For money and fame
For ill gotten gain
Don’t live yo life like a scam!
 
May hear that it's a good plot
To take without gettin' caught
Seems a trend today
Don't nevah pay
And let all the rest of them rot!

Reginald P. Farquahar III - Thems You Meet On Carnaby Street

It isn't very often here at Big And Tall Records that an artist gets two songs issued one right after the other with no other artist in between, let alone with a new artist. But we've made an exception in the case of Reginald P.  Farquahar III. Evidently a group that records old music hall type story songs is behind this colorful character. This is quite a song with a synopsis being:

A story song about Reggie trying to impress a group of young women on Carnaby Street when one of his old plumber mates Alfie, eyes him and embarrasses him! Reggie in turn gets really nasty with Alfie, then Alfie talks back, then Reggie, then Alfie really lets loose with some choice tales about him and Reggie visiting the pub, passing out on the sidewalk, and Reggie laying there 'snorin' and pissin' his pants'! Despite Reggie's protests, the women don't think Reggies any more of a 'British Gentleman' than Alfie is, and they storm off. Reggie calls Alfie some choice names, Alfie asked if he wants to settle it 'under Marquis of Queensbury Rules' , Reggie starts flailing and Alfie lands a solid smack to the jaw, knocking Reggie down. Alfie tests to see if Reggie's really out or not, offers to buy him a pint!

REGGIE
Greetings!
My name is Reginald Poindexter Farquahar, the third!
Aye, 'tis a fine day in the exquisite metropolis of London!
As I take my daily constitutional
Down Carnaby Street, I meet a
Group of the city’s finest  ingénues
Gathering on a street corner.
 I stop and introduce myself, and begin
To have a most enlightening and delightful chat:
 
Good day to you, ladies,
I offer my greetings
To one of the most beautiful
 Sights of my meetings
You've chosen a sublimest of days
To partake of a promenade
May I offer to buy you
All a glass of lemonade?
 
Perchance you may think me forward to ask
But I assure you all, 'tis but a friendly task
To engage in intelligent conversation
Is my one and only reason for instigation!
 
ALFIE
Oy!!
OY!!
 That be you, Reggie?
My gaw, didn’t make ya out
Wi' the fancy garb!
 How ya be, ya ol’ turd puller?
Ya 'member me, don't ya? Alfie!
 ALFIE MORRIS!
We spent many an 'our  together
Up to our arse holes in muck!
 I ain’t seen ya since ya hung
up the ol’ shit stompahs!
 
By gaw, ye ain’t hung em up!
Yer still wearin’ ‘em! Haw Haw Haw!
Wi’ wearin' wormy ol’ tweed duds...
that the moths done
et half of! Haw haw haw!
 
What gives wi' ya, me ol' friend?
Why ya tryin' t' be all fancy?
Ya gone daft, too many pints at the pub
Just wait 'til I tell ol' DeLancy!
 
REGGIE
(Oy ...indeed... a gross
memory from me past...)
Oh, pay no mind. m'ladies.
 'Tis but a common plumber
I have used in the past,
In my construction endeavors.
I do not remember him much,
as he was but a lowly worker
 that I had little contact with.
 
In the past, as I was in charge of construction
I had on occasion to deal with grossly common
I never actually worked with this man
So I believe he is most horribly mistaken
I designed with my encompassing skill
The most complex of pipe fitting schemes
But I never worked with this man called Alfie
Not in his most wildest dreams!
 
Go away, sir! Can’t you see I am engaged
In polite conversation that you are ill
Equipped for?
Be a good fellow, and begone!
 
ALFIE
BY GAW!
Say, where do ya get off wi' tha' stuff?
Still doin' the same ol' shite!
Tryin' to make time with posh birds
Never did it work out right!
 
I 'member the days we spent inna pub
Flexin' our elbows an all
Kept the points comin' near and fast
'Till we got to stagger an' fall!
I 'member ya layin' there on the sidewalk
Snorin' an' pissin yer pants!
Then ya'd wake up, get physical
Throw yer fists, and throw yer rants!
I also 'member the times you took a swing
At me your oldest dearest mate
 
Same  t'ing happened every time
A sock in yer jaw were yer fate!
Ya always had a glass jaw, Reggie me boy!
If ya be wantin' the same, keep yer jaws movin'!
 

REGGIE
Please! Dear ladies!
I apologize for this foolish man!
Let us leave him to his misery!
 
FEMALE VOICE
Come, ladies This man is a fraud!
He is no more a proper British
 gentleman than his friend!
 
REGGIE
I beseech you! I give you my oath!
This man has accosted me, on the street!
I shall call a constable forthwith!
That will dispense with him neat!
 
FEMALE VOICE
Leave us alone, or it is I
who shall call the constable!
 

REGGIE
Is it my fate, to be treated thus
When I attempt to overcome my class?
It makes me so sad.
But then angry!
THEY ALL CAN
KISS ME BLOODY ARSE!
And as for you...
you...
you...
BLOODY STUPID WANKER!
 BUGGER OFF! LEAVE ME ALONE!
Ya took the piss right outa me!
Alfie, yer nothin' but a twat!
 
ALFIE
Wanker he says!
HAW! HAW! HAW!
Stupid he says!
HAW! HAW! HAW!
TWAT he says!
HAW! HAW HAW!
Nice to 'ear the ol' Reggie I know
But hardly love!
 
Wanna settle this like we used ta do?
Marquis of Queensbury rules, hmmm?
Watch out fer me foot work ya gross fat cow!
T'ink ya can outbox me? HMMMMM?
 
Yer naught but punchin' air
HAW! HAW! HAW!
This fight shore ain't fair
HAW! HAW! HAW!
Ya never was a fightin' man!
HAW! HAW! HAW!
HERE! HAVE ME RIGHT CROSS HAND!
 
Tol' ya, Reggie me boy
Once got a glass jaw, always got a glass jaw!
Er'e ya out? Or are ya fakin' it?
C'mon. Git up ya hifalutin burk!
Ya fancy a pint? I'm buyin'!

Reginald P. Farquahar III - Cheerio!

 Reginald Poindexter Farquahar (The Third) is a mighty mouthful of a name for a new character at Big And Tall Records. 

Reginald P. Farquahar III is our newest artist. He is, as he states in this song belongs to a long line of distinguished professional men in the plumbing trade (he's a retired plumber) who, in his retirement, is trying to transform himself into a proper, erudite, British gentleman. The problems he's having with that are apparent just by his appearance. A ratty looking tweed suit that has seen better days, and he' still wearing his high top plumber's boots with his pantlegs tucked inside. When he speaks, he can keep up the posh accent for a while, excessive tongue rolling and all, but when he gets angry or things don't go right, he lapses right back into his usual accent. In this song he tries to use his fancy language on a lady 'with a pedigree as long as yer arm', to have supper with him as a posh restaurant. When she refuses, his accent returns with a vengeance!

We can foresee further issues with Reggie's plan of trying to turn 'posh'. An accent of any kind is difficult to change, and we suspect that not only the accent is the issue, but his choice of words will be as well. A plumber's job can be really hard, dirty work, and when things go exceedingly wrong the language can turn equally hard and dirty! Good luck to you, Reggie! We'll be following along here at Big And Tall Records to see how he copes. But we personally don't see nothin' amiss wi' a mate goin' to de pub fer a point and a larf!

Greetings, ladies and gentlemen!
Allow me to introduce meself…um..
Myself...I am Reginald P. Farquahar III
 I come from a long line of distinguished
 Professional men in the plumbing trade.
 I am now retired, and practice my
 Transformation from a commoner to a cultured,
 Erudite British gentleman! Watch me as I entice
 An elegant British woman with a pedigree be long a yer arm…oh...
 From a very fine family...to accompany me to dinner!
 
Excuse me dear Lady, if I may be so bold
A beauty like yours should not sit in the cold
Permit me to escort you to a grand dining hall
For a spot of fine supper, the finest of all!
I shall order the caviar, vintage champagne
To be in your presence is my ultimate gain.
 
Oh, the evenin’ be young, and the stars be aligned
For a high-class affair of a grander design!...
(Me belly is rumblin’ I could eat a whole cow,
But I must play the gent, got to keep it up now!)
I offer up me arm  if'n  ya please,
To guide you along with absolute ease...
We’ll dine like the gentry, oh will be sublime
I reckon to show you a real good time!
So what do you say, mum? Let’s head out the door,
A high-class arrangement you canna ignore.
 
Don't look at me so, thus, with an eye of distain!
My noble intentions are perfectly plain!
I'm a man of... great...substance...
 a real upper-crust.
(Blimey, me collar be fit-to-bloody-bust!!)
Won't you grant me this favor, me elegant bird?...
Uh...Lady!...I mean! ...
Oh, just give me the word!
 
Lady:
No thank you, sir! ... Absolutely not! ... Good day!
 
Oh, who do you think you are, give me the boot?!
Spent me last copper... OY! ... to press up this suit!
Offered you nosh, at a proper posh place
And you turn up yer nose... huh! ... right in me face!
Get back to yer tea and yer fancy ah-tee-tah
I’m off to me pub fer a point and a larf!
 
You missed out on a gent,
Yeah, a real class act,
Too good fer ya anyways
And that’s a dead fact!
Cheerio then!
Ya bloody snooty tart!

Chuck Wagon Calhoun - Number Twenty Two

Chuck Wagon Calhoun appears again! This time he thinks he’s found the ultimate winning hand in Carson City, Nevada. After trying his luck as a professional gambler he realized the cards weren't breaking his way, so he pivots to a new strategy: romance.

Enter a wealthy, elderly widow. Chuck figures he’ll sweep her off her feet, tie the knot, and comfortably settle in as the sole heir to her massive fortune. It seems like the perfect, effortless retirement plan... until a buddy pulls him aside and drops a bombshell about his bride-to-be's actual intentions! Turns out, she's got a "doin' away" method she uses with her suitors, and Chuck's life might just slip away if he stays. Realizing he's completely outmatched, Chuck decides to skip the confrontation, gather up his gear, saddle up his horse, and hit the trail before the wedding bells can toll.

We'll give this guy credit for his resilience and trying all kinds of ways to make a living. Trouble is that so often his money making ideas are either undermined by his own actions, or the ideas were like Ralph Kramden-like; not the best ideas that were doomed to failure no matter what he did! What will be next? We here at Big And Tall Records await with bated breath!

Howdy!
This be Chuck Wagon Calhoun!
I bet ya’ll didn’t know I were a professional 
Gambler in the boom town of..
Carson City, Nevada!
YEE HAW, YA’LL!
 
Playin’ cards day and night ain’t at all an easy way
Hard to git any sleep and it don’t always pay
Found me ‘nother tactic to earn me a livin’
With a widow woman try to make me a killin’
 
Fair of complexion, wrinkled of lip
Saggy of chest and chonky of hip
Droopy of eye, hair like the snow
But I loved her, even all of that’s so
 
We’d take a buggy ride away out the town
Got her to bill and coo make some other sounds
She pledged her love to me and I called her honey
‘Twernt much to look at but she had gobs a money!
 
Fair of complexion, wrinkled of lip
Hair on her chin, and post nasal drip
Feet that were crooked, and ass that t’were lumpy
I loved her, but damn she was so grumpy!
 
Planned to git hitched and all cuz she cain’t live too long
I’d git all her money to hep me git along
But one of my buddies took me aside one night
Tol’ me don’t marry her, git her out of yer sight
 
He tol’ me after ya’ll git hitched
And she says yes to be yer wife
She’ll insist you take out a policy
That will cover yer life
And by the time she’s all done with you…
You’ll be dead husband number twenty two!
 
Fair of complexion, wrinkled of lip
Marry this bitch, my life's gonna slip
Fingers all gnarly toe nails yeller too
She's got plans a doin' way with you!
 
 
Sat and wondered what in the world to do
Should I confront her say to hell with you
But in the end I decided like I do of course
To gather up ma shit and saddle up ma horse!
 
I reckoned if she done kilt 21 husbands
she knowed what she were doin' !
I'm a no account, low life bastard 
but I ain't no match fer
 a consarn dad blamed poor excuse
 for an old woman that don't play fair!