SS (ANNC): The Lives of the Cowboys. Brought to you by Santa Fe Campsite Spray. It's the aerosol spray that makes your campsite smell fresh and piney, like the wilderness, and not like a barn. And now, The Lives of the Cowboys. (THEME)


GK: There she is, Dusty. St. Louis. The Gateway to the West.

TR: Yessir.

GK: And also the gateway to the east.

TR: I never heard that.

GK: Most gates swing both ways--

TR: What do you mean by that?

GK: Suppose there might have been some people who came through here heading west and got out there and saw it and decided to head back. Decided the west wasn't for them and went back east.

TR: But the west meant freedom--

GK: Right. The freedom to be fools. Look at us. We've been driving these same hundred cows for the past ten years, going from town to town, looking for a good price, which keeps getting lower, so we don't sell cause we don't want to take a loss, and we're running an elderhostel program for livestock. Cows are dropping from arteriosclerosis.

TR: But look at us. Nobody telling us where to go, what to do. No dress code. No security check. No questionnaires. No PIN numbers. When was the last time you had to give your Social Security number?

GK: Last week.

TR: Last week! For what?

GK: None of your business.

TR: Tell me. I want to know.

GK: I applied for a job. In town.

TR: A job doing what?

GK: Teaching guitar.

TR: You? You can't even play guitar!

GK: Sometimes those are the best teachers.

TR: How could you do this?

GK: How could I do it? Twenty years of hopeless tedium under the hot sun in the company of a hundred ornery longhorns and a monosyllabic partner.

TR: What do you mean, --Monosyllabic--? The penicillin cleared that all up.

GK: I applied for a job. Sorry if it upsets you.

TR: What sort of jobs you apply for?

GK: Companion. Life coach. Psychotherapist.

TR: Had no idea you were looking for a job.


TR: What do we got here?

SS: Whoa whoa whoa--(DISMOUNT, FAST FOOTSTEPS ON GRAVEL) Hiya fellas. Can I take a minute of your time? (FN GIBBERISH, OFF) My name is Connie Zwieback and this is my husband Lorenz.

GK: Looks to me like your husband is in need of help. (FN DEEP INCOMPREHENSIBLE)

SS: I suppose he is. He's demented. He's been like that for awhile.

GK: What caused him to go berserk?

SS: Well, we have four children. Eleven, thirteen, fifteen, and nineteen.

GK: Well, now that makes sense. So what can we do for you, Mrs. Zwieback?

SS: You advertised that you were available as a companion. And I thought that if you could just take Lorenz away on horseback for a month or two, and let him experience the cowboy life, maybe he would return to his senses.

TR: Usually it works the other way, ma'am.

SS: I just thought that the fresh air, the sense of adventure, the long and winding trail and so forth--

GK: I think she has a point, Dusty. The cowboy life is so irrational anyway, maybe this is the future of it -- as a kind of therapy--

TR: Well-- He doesn't look like a bad sort of fellow. And he doesn't have a guitar. That's a plus right there.

SS; Lorenz is not a musician, sir.

TR: That's good enough for me. -- Looks like I got me a new partner, pardner.

SS: And it looks like I got me a new boyfriend--

GK: Well, I don't know about that--

SS: Got me a nice house, all paid for. I'm ready to retire. Sell the house, move to California. Wouldn't mind having somebody to go with me. Somebody who can ride and rope and wrangle. If you know what I mean.

GK: But why would you leave St. Louis? You've got the St. Lous Cardinals. Baseball the way baseball was meant to be. You've got a great symphony orchestra. Art museums. Beautiful old neighborhoods.

SS: I want something new. Like California.


I can't live on the coast in the fog and the mist
It would turn me into an inhumanist
I would mold and mildew and sneeze and cough
And my bones would rust and my legs would fall off

SS: How about Florida then?


I've been down South, near the magnolia trees,
And it's nice if you are in your late 70s
But humidity's high and the temperature's hot
It's nice if you are a snake and I'm not
Whoopitiyiyo and South I can't go.
SS: I could go to New England.

GK: I've been to Boston which is terribly quaint
Where everyone's brilliant except when they ain't
And they look down their noses if they heard
You speak and they think that you misspelled a word.
Whoopitiyiyo Boston I don't think so.

SS: Well, where do you want to live then?


O I am a misfit and I do not belong
Among decent people and so I've gone wrong
And I'm riding the trail out on the prairie
Where life is sustainable though temporary.
Right here in the middle , no trouble, no hurry,
Here in the heart of St. Louis Missouri.
Where the Missouri river and the Mississip meet
Where the days are delicious and the evenings are sweet.
Whoopitiyiyo git along little doggies.

TR: Guess you missed your big chance, pardner.

GK: I don't think it would've worked out.

FN: I think you would've gone crazy just like I did.

GK: Lorenz! You're talking!

FN: I always was talking, I just wasn't getting through to people.

TR: So how come you became demented?

FN: Cell phones. Walking around with a cellphone, waiting for it to ring. Drove me nuts. The cellphone turns a man into a receptionist. (COWS)

GK: Well, there's no coverage out here so your problem is solved for you.

FN: And I didn't like the color of the kitchen walls. Bright yellow. Hated that. (CELLPHONE)

TR: That's not me.

FN: That's me. She's calling. What should I do?

TR: You're a cowboy. Do whatever you feel like doing. (CELLPHONE)


GK: If you're gonna be crazy, may as well do it out in the open. Got five hundred miles of privacy in all directions.

TR: Speaking of which. Hi-ya! (HORSES GALLOP OFF)


SS: The Lives of the Cowboys. Brought to you by Santa Fe Campsite Spray.