Do not forsake me, oh my darling and stand by your man because I'm crazy, crazy for feeling so much like a boy named Sue.
Country music. It's my life. All my beliefs, opinions and aspirations lie somewhere in a country music song. Everything I've ever done has been recorded in the key of G by Hank or Johnny or Willie or Dwight. Shoot, even Loretta, Patsy, Tammy and Patti have sang episodes from my past.
This is why, ladies and germs, I have thrown myself completely into the business of country music. Need a singer? Call me. Need a songwriter? Call me. Need a guitar player? Call me. Need a producer/agent? Call me. Need a hat?
Call me.
Okay, I know what you're thinking. Sure, SJ, you and a million and one other unemployed yahoos who couldn't carry a tune in a coal bucket.
Right?
You're thinking I'm just sitting around all day spinning fantasies of Garthdom, no closer to actually taking the step than swimming the Pacific.
Well, don't bet the pickup there, lonely hearts. Not only have I taken the step, I've plunged into that rhinestone river. And brother believe me when I tell you, I'm swimming.
I can carry a tune and I have a lunch bucket to do it. I can play guitar just like ringing a cowbell. And I've written tons of songs with appropriate country titles like "I Won't Get Over You Till The Grass Grows Over Me," "Drinkin and Drivin," and "I've Got a Right To Know Why You Left."
I'm not making this up. These are actual titles to actual songs and if you send $5.98, check or money order, I'll send you a tape of them suitable for playing.
Shoot, I even have a song racing up the charts recorded by a rising young star who I represent. It's called "Bet Your Boots I'm Walkin." Heard it?
Okay, maybe you haven't heard it. You see, we didn't quite make it in Nashville. But we're tearing 'em up in Nagasaki. You probably didn't know country music was huge in Japan, did you? I'm here to tell you it is, and my young protoge, Billy Joe Yammaso is the next big thing. The press in Tokyo have dubbed him the Japanese Slim Whitman and "Bet Your Boots..." is number 27 with a bullet on the Nippon charts.
Wait till you hear Billie Joe. He's as country as milk, raised on a rice farm, kind of guy with mud under his fingernails. Hearing him sing, you'd think he was an Okie from Muskogee.
And guess what? You may just get your chance to hear him sooner than you think. I'm in top secret negotiations with Happy Mart right now and we're a hair on a gnat's butt away from inking a deal to bring Billie Joe Yammaso to this year's Autumn Jam. You, lucky reader, could bear witness to this coming superstar's debut on American soil.
It's not a sure thing, yet. There's a couple of details to be worked out. Simple things, like Billie only wants to be paid in yen. Of course, being the star he's going to be, he doesn't come cheap. But I'm sure, like me, you'll think the extra nickel a gallon you're going to pay for gas will be worth it.
So on your next trip to Happy Mart, tell the friendly counter person you want to see Billie Joe Yammaso at the Jam.
By that time, "Bet Your Boots I'm Walkin" should be number one on the charts and Billie's next release, "Drownin in a River of Saki" will be racing up right behind it. That's another one I wrote.
Yes, folks, I love country music. It sure is great to be able to make it at something one really loves. Marlow'll tell ya. And don't worry, after we take Nashville, I'll still be the same guy. My head will be the same large size it ever was and I won't leave Elkhorn.
But I do wonder, if Patti got a whole big street named after her for living here a couple of months, what will the city fathers do for me? Can you say S.J. City?