by C. Carson Parks
I always wondered what it might feel like to be an aging cowboy. The late Eddie Dean was the father of one of my closest friends in Burbank, and Eddie and I had a "mutual admiration society" going on. I played with him several times, (in The Palomino Club and the like), and later, I drove from Nashville to Memphis to attend a "B-Movie-Republic-Film-Collectors" (or whatever) annual convention. Through Eddie Dean, I met, at various venues: Roy Rogers & Dale Evans; Lash LaRue, Iron Eyes Cody, Patsy Montana, and all the "greats" that I had idolized as a kid! What a thrill it was to be invited to a "roast/banquet" where Iron-Eyes presented Eddie Dean with a white Eagle feather, which is probably like "sainthood" to an American Indian, although I'd have to check with Reg and Gigi ("Fast Elk") Bannister to find out. Although I've forgotten much of the stuff I used to know about the Amerind Nations, this is going on much too long. Anyway, the point of the song was what happens to aging cowboys, (such as "Fuzzy Q. Jones" and the like). I think they never want to "retire", even if they are relegated to the "chuck wagon." Whatever it is, I've lost most of my falsetto, so I don't do this tune much anymore. At the time, I hoped I could get a record (maybe even spoken) by Lorne Greene, Walter Brennon, or somebody like that.