SS (ANNC): The Lives of the Cowboys. Brought to you by Old Chisholm Trail Chuckwagon Chocolate.....the bittersweet chocolate that's more like life itself And now, the Lives of the Cowboys.
(HORSE WHINNIES, TROTTING)
GK: Whoa, easy boy. Easy.
TR: Whoa, whoa.
(HORSES SLOW TO WALK)
GK: Good to get back to Yellow Gulch.
TR: Whoa. Whoa. (HORSE CHUFFS) Let's go in the saloon.
GK: I'm not going to stay long. I'm going up to the hotel and get me a hot bath and a soft bed. (FOOTSTEPS, DOOR OPENS, QUIET CLUB AMBIENCE, MURMUR OF VOICES) (SENSITIVE ARPEGGIO PIANO) (FOOTSTEPS) (FOOTSTEPS STOP) Where's the bartender?
TR: And what happened to the old piano player?
JS: Howdy, gentlemen.
GK: You the bartender? What happened to Joe the old bartender?
JS: Went to Chicago.
JS: He won thirty-five thousand dollars in a game of strip poker.
GK: I didn't know that Joe was a poker player.
JS: He isn't, but nobody wanted to see him naked, so he kept winning, hand after hand.
TR: How about you bring a bottle of whiskey for me and a glass of sarsaparilla for my pardner?
JS: What kind of whiskey?
TR: Whiskey whiskey.
JS: We got raspberry whiskey.
TR (SHUDDERS, HAWKS, SPITS): How about beer?
JS: We've got pineapple beer.
TR: Guess I'll just have water.
GK: Sarsaparilla for me.
JS: Coming right up.
GK: Say, piano player? (PIANO STOPS)
RD: What is it?
GK: What's the tune you're playing?
RD: It's called The Buddhist Blues.
TR; Doesn't sound like the blues.
RD: That's cause it's Buddhist.
GK: How about you give us the sound of Piano No Hands? Here's ten bucks.
RD: Okay. Thanks.
TR: Look that door over there. It says Powder Room.
TR: Powder room!! We always used to just go out in the alley.
GK: Things sure have changed in Yellow Gulch. (LADY'S FOOTSTEPS)
SS: Lefty? Is that you?
SS: What are you doing here, Lefty?
GK: Just riding by and decided I'd come into town. You look lovely.
SS: Why thank you.
GK: You still working as a floozy?
SS: No, I retired from floozing and went back to school and now I'm the Methodist minister.
TR: Is that right? Why, you and I used to dance together. Ten cents a dance and every nine dances I got one for free. Boy, those were the days.
SS: Glad you enjoyed them.
TR: You didn't?
SS: Not so much.
GK: And now you're a minister. So what happened to Yellow Gulch? It's changed, Rose.
SS: Everything changes. How are you doing?
GK: Nothing changes out there. Doing exactly the same as ever. Riding the trail, sleeping on the ground and living on dried jerky and eating dust and wrangling miserable longhorn cattle and ever so often stopping in towns along the way to hang around with despicable people and then moving on for weeks until unbearable loneliness drives you back into another town and another disillusioning experience.
SS: That sounds terrible.
GK: Naw, it's not bad. I'm not complaining. It could be worse. (STRUMS)
Sometimes life is easy, sometimes life is hard,
The deck is shuffled daily, and you have to draw the card.
Sometimes it's a good one, sometimes it is bad
No matter what be grateful for the good times you have had
For gratitude is how you cure the blues
Be thankful your obituary isn't on the news
Be grateful that your teeth are not all rotten and decayed
Be glad that you're not teaching 7th grade.
You can still be grateful even if you're scraping bottom.
People in Gomorrah can be grateful it's not Sodom.
Even if your life is dismal and you feel distraught
There is always something you can be glad that you're not.
Be grateful this is not the Middle Ages
And you don't have a hundred things all of them contagious
Be glad you're one of us and not some alien
Be glad you do not have to hear this song again
O be glad you do not have to hear this song again.
TR: And for that I am truly grateful.
SS: Well, it's good to see you, Lefty. Excuse me, boys. I've got a burrito in the microwave. (FOOTSTEPS OFF).
GK: Burrito in the microwave. Is that a euphemism for you know what?
TR: Bun in the oven?
TR: She looks pretty darned skinny to me.
GK: Well, here's to motherhood and Methodism. (CLINK)
TR: What do you say we head for Red Butte. They must still have whiskey there.
GK: Red Butte is three hours away.
TR: Well, we'd get there by midnight. Just in time for the fistfights.
GK: You go, I'll stay here. The hotel beckons.
TR: They got terrific floozies in Red Butte.
GK: You can tell me about it in the morning.
TR: I won't remember it in the morning.
GK: Good. Have fun. Be careful.
TR: Which one?
GK: Have fun.
TR: Good night. (DOOR OPENS, FOOTSTEPS)
JS: You and he been partners a long time, huh?
GK: Yeah. Thirty-some years.
JS: You get to know somebody pretty well after that long, I reckon.
GK: Not at all. Longer you live, the less you know.
JS: I know what you mean.
SS: The Lives of the Cowboys......brought to you by Old Chisholm Trail Chalk Pencils.....they're good for writing HELP on rocks when you get into trouble.