|
|
|
|
|
For a little over a year, my husband, Mel, has been singing and strumming cowboy music on his guitar at state parks, museums, festivals, schools, and other functions. He's actually pretty good. In fact, this year, he performed at several county Farm Bureau conventions and didn't get hit by a single tomato.
Mel didn't just start playing and singing recently. He's been at it most of his life.
"When Ah wuz jist a li'l shaver, Ah'd be outside playin' 'Wolf Over the River' or 'Hide-and-Go-Seek' with the other kids, an' mah daddy an' Uncle Early wud pull me inside, put me in a straight back chair with a apple box fer mah feet and have me playin' rhythm guitar with thur breakdown fiddle tunes," he recalls. "They'd prob'ly git 'em fer chahld abuse nowadays. We'd play fer hours at a tahm. My li'l ol' fangers would be raw meat when we wuz done."
Today, the fingers on Mel's left hand are as calloused as a ballerina's big toe. You can strike a match on the ends of them.
"We wuz purdy good. Shoot, we wuz plumb good!" Mel continued. "We'd play 'Boil' 'Em Cabbage Down,' 'Bonaparte's Retreat,' 'Fraulein,' 'The Eighth o' January,' 'Westphalia Waltz,' 'Milk Cow Blues'. Anyhow, neighbors would come over an' waltz an' do the two step fer hours_except for Grandpa Hadley, who could jig to fare the well. Me an' him wuz both dancin' fools."
"The dancing part's hard to believe," I said.
"A jig's easy. You jist move yore feet quick lahk yore stompin' fahr ants whahl keepin' tahm with the music."
"Ah cut my baby teeth on a Franch harp," Mel said.
My husband attacks a harmonica like he does an ear of corn. I think his best harmonica tune is "Casey Jones." He likes "Shenandoah" and "Red Wing." In any event, he's not bad, so long as you stand back so you don't get hit by flying slobber.
And as it is with every other thing, Mel is humble about his talent.
"They said Ah always had a natural rhythm on th' guitar, an' cud sang good enough to be on th' Grand Ol' Opry, " he stated. "Mah biggest regret is that Ah never got to develop mah talent when Ah wuz a kid. Ah had sich a good tenor an' soprano voice, Ah wud a been perfect fer the Vienna Boys Choir, only Ah didn't know thur wuz sich a thang 'til Ah wuz grown."
"With YOUR Texas twang?"
Mel's eyebrows dipped.
"WHUT Texas twang?"
Mel sang a lot of specials at church as a teenager and a young adult.
"Ah also sang at a lot of funerals–"Precious Memories," "Unclouded Day," "Futher Along," an' "Mansion Over th' Hilltop" wuz some frequent requests," he said. "Since thur wuz nine of us Robinson boys, the undertaker wud call up Daddy an' say, 'Modell, send me over six boys fer pallbearers.' He cud round 'em up all at once't."
Mel has also sung at numerous weddings, also, and he even sings Irish tenor songs like "Danny Boy," "Annie Laurie," "Red is the Rose," and "Loch Lomond."
He really got interested in cowboy ballads several years ago, about the same time he got hooked on J. Frank Dobie book and tales of the the old cattle drives. Beyond entertainment, he decided sharing Lone Star heritage and history in song was a worthy effort. He sings oldies, like "I Want to Be in Texas for the Roundup in the Spring," "Strawberry Roan," "Little Joe the Wrangler," and "When the Work's All Done this Fall." He does some modern stuff, written by Red Steagall and the Sons of the San Joaquin, and throws in some Marty Robbins–"Big Iron," "El Paso,"and "Streets of Laredo"—for good measure. And he pens some of his own music. He's having a good time.
"Ah s'pose mah vury favorite song I done back in my teenage years wuz `Dream, Dream, Dream,' by th' Everly Brothers. Ah had mah hair long an' stacked up on top lahk Elvis, an' picked 'at guitar. Li'l girls wuz leavin' home to foller me aroun'. In high school, me an' Al Massengale won a talent contest. In fact, Ah won ever' contest Ah ever entered."
"How many did you enter?"
"Jist 'at one," Mel grinned.
