(GK: Garrison Keillor; FN: Fred Newman; SS: Sue Scott: TR: Tim Russell)
(WESTERN THEME)
SS: THE LIVES OF THE COWBOYS. . .brought to you by Wild Bill Skin Moisturizer.....it helps hide ugly bruises from fistfights so you're still attractive to the gal you were fighting over ---- and now here's THE LIVES OF THE COWBOYS...
(CAMPTOWN LADIES PIANO, SALOON HUBBUB)
GK: Took us two weeks of eating trail dust to get here to Yellow Gulch and the saloon, two weeks I been looking forward to it, and now I been here ten minutes and I'm sick of it.
TR: What's your gripe?
GK: Junk everywhere. Place stinks to high heaven. No regard for the environment.
TR: Cowboys care about the environment. They're wearing it most of the time.
GK: People here, ignorant and ugly. Whiskey's bad and it's expensive. And the dance hall girls are out on strike.
TR: Now that is a sad situation. Dance hall girls starting a union.
GK: Well, they are all Democrats, so why not.
TR: That's true. Ain't no Republican floozies. Republicans've got junkyard dogs and Holy Rollers but if you want to have a drink and whoop it up, all there is is them dance and spend Democrats.
GK: Somebody'd have to be good and drunk before they danced with you. You look like you were embalmed once and it wore off.
TR: That's what life on the trail does to you. It makes you lonely and unattractive at the same time. A cruel irony. 'Nother beer, Doris! ----
GK: Hey, piano player! I had about enough of Camptown Races, how about you try something else for a change? (PIANO STOPS)
FN: What you have in mind, cowboy?
GK: You know any jazz songs?
FN: Don't play jazz, it attracts college women.
GK: How about rock 'n roll?
FN: It attracts grade school girls.
GK: How about something in the Latin style, a mambo or tango?
FN: Don't care for it. My first wife loved Latin music.
GK: Well, play some anyways. Play "Besame Mucho."
FN: Okay, but it'll cost ya.
GK: There's a buck. Play it, Sam. (COIN SPINS ON TABLE) (MUSIC: BESAME MUCHO) Another beer for me, Doris!
SS (DORIS): Comin' up.
TR: No, his beer ain't comin' up, Doris. If it was comin up, why would he want another one. ---- That was a joke.
GK: I realize that. I donno why this joint can't get a little update. Have a patio with tables. Umbrellas. Sit outside and have appetizers and have a bottle of beer with a little lime wedge in it. (PIANO STOPS. SILENCE. SLOW FOOTSTEPS) What's wrong?
FN: Did I hear you say ------------ "lime wedge"?
GK: That's what I said, yes.
FN: I ain't only the piano player in this town, mister, I am the sheriff. (HE HAWKS AND SPITS) And we don't allow lime wedges in beer around here. This is not a lime-wedge type of town. And don't you be thinking otherwise. You bring in lime wedges, pretty soon you got people in yella sport clothes and shorts and SANDALS, you got SUVs and weekend homes with marble counters, you got book clubs and sushi bars and after that you got gun control. And when you come out for gun control, mister, that's when I would be forced to shoot you down.
TR: He was just kiddin about lime wedges, sheriff. Lefty here can throw back the rotgut with the best of them. He ain't no sissy.
SS (LOLA): HEY!!!!!! (CROWD MURMURS) EVERYBODY JUST SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME. (CROWD MURMUR) That's better. My name is Lola Fazola, I flew out here from New York City because I am the lawyer for the American Federation of Dancers, Floozies, and Ladies of the Night. The A.F.D.F.L. Local 14. (SHE PACES) Now listen up and listen up tight. The reason the girls went out on strike is because it's back-breaking work being lovey-dovey with a buncha drunks who smell bad enough to knock a buzzard off the outhouse. They're sick and tired of you leaning on em and breathin your onion & coffee breath on em and telling em the same four jokes and then when you dance it's like Saturday night wrestling. They want more money. And they want to be hired according to seniority.
TR: Excuse me, ma'am, but seniority is not what a man looks for in a dance hall floozy. He looks for juniority. Otherwise known as babitude.
SS (LOLA): Then the girls stay out on strike. Lemme know when you're ready to talk.
(PAUSE)
GK: I'm ready to talk.
SS (LOLA): Who're you, cowboy?
FN: He's somebody who takes citrus with his beer, that's who he is. (CROWD HUBBUB)
SS (LOLA): What's your name?
GK: My name's Lefty.
SS (LOLA): I like the looks of you, mister. There's something thoughtful about you. Sort of sensitive and caring and---- you wouldn't happen to be a liberal would you?
GK: Me? Heck yes. Liberal through and through. (HAWKS AND SPITS) Sorry, ma'am. Didn't mean to do that. I been keeping bad company.
SS (LOLA): You really a cowboy, Lefty?
GK: Sort of a poet cowboy. Kind of an artist who also happens to be a cowboy.
SS: You like Gershwin?
GK: Heck yes. Hey, piano player.
FN: What?
GK: Play us some Gershwin.
FN: Don't know any.
GK: George Gershwin.
FN: Don't know him either.
GK: How about Mr. Samuel Colt? You know him? (CLICK OF GUN HAMMER) Mr. Colt believes that you know some Gershwin.
(PAUSE. THEN BIG "RHAPSODY IN BLUE" PIANO)
GK: What you like to drink, Lola?
SS (LOLA): How about a Cosmopolitan?
GK: Doris!
SS (DORIS): Yeah?
GK: A Cosmopolitan.
SS (DORIS): What about it?
GK: Make one. For her.
SS (DORIS): What is it?
GK: It's vodka, triple sec, cranberry juice, and lime juice.
SS (DORIS): What about sex?
GK: Triple sec. Singular.
SS (DORIS): Oh. Okay.
GK: You ever been west, ma'am?
SS (LOLA): Never went past the Poconos. Until now.
GK: So you're from New York, huh?
SS (LOLA): Yeah.
GK: I love New York.
SS (LOLA): You're making me homesick. Kiss me, you fool. (A QUIET INTENSE KISS)
SS (DORIS): Here's your Cosmo!
SS (LOLA): Thanks.
SS (DORIS): Didn't have no cranberry juice, or triple sec or lime juice, so I used straight vodka.
SS (LOLA): Oh. A Polish Cosmopolitan. That's fine.
SS (LOLA): I wish I could hear one of your poems, Lefty.
GK: Of course. HEY! PIANO MAN! (MUSIC STOPS) Take a break.
(STRUM)
TR: I was just having a wonderful daydream and now the beating continues.
GK:
Dreaming of you and your deltoids too
You're so trim you are almost bionic.
And your jacket and tie from DKNY
And your shoes from Manolo Blahnik.
And if I had my pick of the world,
I would have me a Manhattan girl.
If I could but win your love, New York girl,
Then I would be wealthy for sure.
I'd tell Donald Trump to go take a jump
Cause there's only one girl and you're her.
I love your black suit and that sweet string of pearls,
And your cellphone there in your hand.
If I could but win your love, New York girl,
I'd be the wealthiest man.
If I could but win your love, New York girl,
I'd be the wealthiest man.
(YODEL)
SS (LOLA): I love that little yodel of yours.
GK: You're the most beautiful woman I ever met, Miss Fazola.
SS (LOLA): I hope you'll find me even more attractive later. What do you say we go back to the hotel?
GK: (HEART POUNDING) Sure. Why not? You are so darn beautiful, you take my breath away and you don't give it back.
SS (LOLA): I fell in love with you the moment you started yodeling.
GK: If I had known my yodeling was that good, I never would've bothered to learn the guitar.
(THEME)
TR: THE LIVES OF THE COWBOYS....brought to you by Lazy Eight blue jeans, they're extra wide in the rear. (MUSIC OUT)
© Garrison Keillor 2002