(WESTERN THEME)
SS: THE LIVES OF THE COWBOYS....brought to you by Trailblazer Tablecloths....if you find mealtime on the trail depressing, what with the snakes and chiggers and dust blowing in your face, why not brighten up your meal with a festive tablecloth ---- Rose Garden on one side, Rainbow on the other.....and now, here's today's exciting adventure.....
(HORSE HOOVES, SLOW WALK)
TR: Looks like Yellow Gulch again. Dang it. How come we keep coming back to this same miserable town?
GK: Beats me.
TR: Again and again - we feel like we're riding a whole new trail and then suddenly we're riding this dismal town of ugly women, vicious men, and children all of them savage. Maybe we need to get GPS or something.
GK: In our case GPS stands for Great Plains Self-Deception. We think we're getting somewhere and we're just going in circles.
TR: Still driving cattle, and with cattle prices what they are, we are in a non-profit enterprise. Much like public radio but without the glamor. It's just plain craziness.
GK: OCD. Obsessive Cowboy Determination.
TR: Let's find some other insanity that's more fun.
GK: Let's do that.
TR: We've been sociopaths long enough. Let's try plain old neurosis or emotional instability. How about paranoia? Hypochondria.
GK: How about agoraphobia?
TR: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA. (HE WHEEZES) The fear of open spaces.
GK: Cowboys with a fear of open spaces. (LAUGHTER)
TR: We'd need medications to get across Wyoming. (LAUGHTER)
GK: We used to be valiant, now we're on Valium.
TR: Well, here we are ---- Last Chance Saloon. Whoa. Whoa. (HORSES PULL UP, HE DISMOUNTS)
GK: Feel like tying myself to the hitching rail and sending White Blaze in for a beer. (WHINNY) What's wrong?
TR: That ain't White Blaze, pardner. That's Dark Moon.
GK: Oh?
TR: You sold White Blaze for $750 back when we spent the winter in New York.
GK: When was that?
TR: Ten years ago.
GK: Ten years. I've been calling him by the wrong name. Dark Moon. How did I give him that name?
TR: His name was George when you bought him. (WHINNY) You started calling him Dark Moon when you were writing a song about the dark side of the moon.
GK: Oh boy. So he might rather be George. (WHINNY) Okay, George. Sorry. (FOOTSTEPS ON GRAVEL, SALOON DOOR OPEN, PIANO PLAYING "CAMPTOWN RACES" LAUGHTER & TALK, FOOTSTEPS) Excuse me. I said, Excuse me. (GUNSHOT, PIANO STOPS, SILENCE) Sorry.
RD: Don't shoot me, mister. I'm only the piano player.
GK: Every time I walk into this saloon, you're playing the same dumb tune. Why?
RD: A lot of people love that tune.
GK: Camptown Races?? People love it?
RD: That's not "Camptown Races". That's "This Magic Moment."
GK: "This Magic Moment" ???? Come on.
RD: This is "Camptown Races"---- (HE PLAYS "THIS MAGIC MOMENT", STOPS) ---- Oh, you're right. Somehow got 'em mixed up.
GK: How many people here want to hear "Camptown Races"??? Let's see your hands. Who're you? You want "Camptown Races"?
FN (ROUGH, MESSER-LIKE): No, I'm Doc Riley, the town psychologist, and I think you need to do something about your anger issues.
GK: What would you know about that?
DR: He knows a lot. Cured me. I used to be a psychopathic desperado and now I'm a high school football coach.
GK: I been out on the endless trail with dust blowing in my face and eating burnt food and sleeping on hard rocks and spending 16 hours a day with a partner who says nary a word, discouraging or otherwise, and I haul up in this miserable town and hear this crappy tune and I have to listen to some lamebrain lecture me about anger issues? Bring me a beer, barkeep.
SS: Coming right up.
TR: Make that two.
SS: Two beers.
FN: You know what's bringing you down is your own complaining. We call it the Negative Automatic Thought path ---- N.A.T. ----
DR: That was my problem.
FN: I wrote a book about it called Cowboy Cognitive Therapy: Riding Your Emotions like a Horse. Still got copies available.
GK: Would you hurry up with that beer!!!!????
FN: Alcohol isn't going to help you, mister. Your mind is like a horse. You have to take it by the reins and steer it. Otherwise the horse is going to go wherever it's used to going. Down the Negative Automatic Thought path. You need to guide that horse to greener pastures. Turn compulsion into choice.
DR: That's what I did. Worked for me. I gave up kicking and gouging and shooting and spitting and I tried to teach boys the T-formation.
FN: What you want to do is keep a thought journal and write down all your negative thoughts and then we can work on changing those to something positive.
GK: I never heard so much horse hockey at one time in all my born days. You people have been out in the sun too long.
DR: Works for me.
RD: Works for me too. I used to hate "Camptown Races" but I still played it and I imagined it was "This Magic Moment" it made me happier.
GK: There's something in the water in this town. You people need to be tested for dementia.
(FOOTSTEPS)
SS: Excuse me. Could you open the lid on this jar for me? I tried and it won't budge.
GK: What's in the jar?
SS: It's whiskey.
GK: I ordered a beer.
SS: I thought you said whiskey.
GK: No, I ordered a beer. So did he. Two beers.
SS: Well, I do apologize. I'll just run down to the creek and get you a beer. I keep it there in the mineral spring to stay nice and cool. I'll be right back. It's only three miles.
GK: No, that's all right. I'll have whiskey instead.
SS: You sure?
GK: Sure.
SS: I'm glad to go get the beer. Just saddle up my horse, take me fifteen minutes.
GK: I'll have this.
TR: Me too.
SS: Think you can get the lid off?
GK: I can try.
TR: If he can't, I can.
GK: Step back, Dusty. Don't want to spill whiskey all over you. (GK BIG EFFORT) Boy, this is on tight. (GK BIG EFFORT)
TR: Here, let me have at it.
GK: Not going to give it to you, I've already loosened it, not going to let you be the hero. (GK BIG EFFORT) There. (UNSCREWS LID)
SS: My. You are so strong. I am just plain awestruck to see all that power in one person.
GK: Well, thank you.
SS: My name's Eloise. What's yours?
GK: Lefty.
SS: I never knew a Lefty before.
GK: Well, you do now.
SS: I see by those callouses on your fingers that you are a guitarist.
GK: I am indeed. (STRUMS) (HE SINGS)
Dreaming of having a nice cold beer
I walked in and thus I found you
And you didn't have any beer around here
So whiskey, I'm sure, will do.
But mainly I just want to be by your side
A golden girl of the West
And suddenly I feel so satisfied
Though I came in here very depressed.
SS: That's beautiful. Do you yodel too?
GK: YODELS
SS: I love that song, Lefty.
TR (OFF): Man, this is good whiskey. Hee yaw.
DR: Pour me a little of that there.
FN: Whiskey for you, piano man?
RD: No, thanks.
GK: So you work here, Eloise?
SS: I'm the owner of the saloon.
GK: Oh. Funny I didn't see you in here last time.
SS: My husband and I bought the place just a year ago.
GK: Oh I see. Your husband---
SS: My late husband.
GK: Oh, my condolences.
SS: Quite unnecessary. I'm all over it.
GK: How did he---- you know----
SS: He died of a heart attack trying to open that same jar of
whiskey that you opened.
GK: Huh. Was he puny and sickly?
SS: He was a professional rassler. Rassled under the name Gorgeous Greg. Weighed 350 pounds and had biceps the size of a chainsaw.
GK: So you've been running the saloon alone?
SS: Actually I sold it. Yesterday. To Doc Riley.
FN: Yep, I take ownership day after tomorrow. Gonna turn it into a pub. We'll offer artisan brews from boutique breweries and we'll be pouring local wine, too, and having discussion groups.
TR: How about whiskey?
FN: No, sir. Whiskey leads to negative thoughts.
DR: That's right.
GK: That's a bunch of hooey. Says who?
DR: It's true.
GK: You two barflies know about as much about human nature as monkeys know about growing peanuts.
FN: Growing what??
GK: Peanuts. Peanuts!
SS: Don't fight with them, Lefty. Come out back and let's lie in a hammock and talk about the meaning of life.
GK: Don't mind if I do.
TR: I'll take the horses down to the livery stable.
DR: Want us to lock up, Eloise?
SS: Why don't you do that?
FN: That fella sure got hold of his feelings and turned them
down a whole new path.
DR: You helped him, Doc. No doubt about it.
FN: Play "Camptown Races, " Sam. Play it for me.
RD: The name isn't Sam. It's Ramon. (HE PLAYS "THIS
MAGIC MOMENT," BIG, ROMANTIC)
DR: Man, that Stephen Foster sure knew how to put the hay down where the goats could get it, didn't he?
(THEME)
TR: The Lives of the Cowboys.....brought to you by Trailblazer Tablecloths. They're more festive than dirt and gravel. Try one and see if you don't agree.