(OUTDOOR AMBIENCE. HORSE HOOVES AS DUSTY AND LEFTY RIDE INTO TOWN.)
GK: Good to be back in Texas, Dusty. Always friendly faces down here. Long as you avoid the subject of politics, or religion, or college sports, you'll feel very welcome.
TR: Yep. Up in Minnesota, they see a pistol on your hip, they assume you are a sociopath. Down here, it's completely unremarkable. Even Unitarians pack pistols down here.
GK: Is that right?
TR: If they didn't, the Baptists would steal their liquor.
GK: Beautiful city, Galveston. Palm trees! Big beach, people swimming with dolphins. Not like how you think of Texas, is it.
TR: Tell me again why we are here.
GK: We've been hired to meet a cruise ship. A European cruise ship. Those people come to Texas, they want to see cowboys. So when the ship docks, we're supposed to ride around whooping and shooting our pistols in the air.
TR: Oh boy.
GK: And we'll pose for photographs. But it's not for another hour so let's step into this cafe over here, have a coffee.
TR: The Petroushka Cafe. Seafood chowder daily. Beer and cocktails.
GK: Nice looking place, curtains on the window and all. (THEY DISMOUNT, WALK ACROSS BOARDWALK. DOOR OPEN, JINGLE, CLOSE. FOOTSTEPS)
GK: Afternoon, ma'am.
JR (RUSSIAN): Good afternoon. Welcome to Petroushka.
GK: Is that your name?
JR (RUSSIAN): No, I'm Vera. Petroushka is home sick with food poisoning.
GK: Aha.
JR (RUSSIAN): He got some bad vegetables. You gotta be careful about vegetables.
GK: I didn't know that.
JR (RUSSIAN): You not from around here, are you.
GK: Minnesota.
JR (RUSSIAN): Minnesota, huh? Gets cold up there, no?
GK: People say that. Kind of hot and humid down here, isn't it. And it's only April.
JR (RUSSIAN): So what can I get you?
TR: You got beer?
JR (RUSSIAN): No. Vodka.
TR: I can't get a beer and a snort of whiskey?
JR (RUSSIAN): No. Just vodka.
TR: Okay, I'll have vodka.
JR (RUSSIAN): And you?
GK: Sarsaparilla for me.
JR (RUSSIAN): What's that?
GK: Root beer.
JR (RUSSIAN): No root beer. Vodka.
GK: How about orange juice?
JR (RUSSIAN): Orange juice is a concentrate. GMO. From water in Flint, Michigan.
GK: Okay. Vodka then.
JR (RUSSIAN); Be right back. (FOOTSTEPS AWAY)
GK: Wonder if there's a spa in this town where we could
take our spring baths. It's getting to be that time.
TR: Nah. You take a bath, it attracts the wrong kinda women.
Women interested in working on relationships.
GK: Well, I wouldn't mind having the wrong kind of woman.
TR: What you want that for?
GK: Like to have someone I can talk to.
TR: About what?
GK: Anything I want to.
TR: Name one thing you can talk to a woman about that you can't talk to me about. Name one.
GK: This. The longing for a woman. Wrote a song about it today. (GUITAR STRUM)
TR: Oh no. Not again.
GK (SING): Wish I had a beau in Beaumont
A saint in San Antone
A head on my pillow in Amarillo
A witch in Wichita to call my own
Someone to lean on in Abilene
And in Houston a hausfrau
And I wish I had a gal in Galveston
Cause that's where I am right now.
TR: That's the whole song?
GK: Yeah.
TR: You gotta have more than that to have a hit song.
GK: Who said I was going for a hit song?
TR: Why else would you write one?
GK: For the beauty of it.
TR: "Beauty of it." Ha.
GK: See, that's why I wish I had a woman. Someone who'd appreciate beauty.
TR: I'd rather have a girl who is a beauty, get to know her in the course of an evening, and then ride away into the sunrise.
GK: Yeah, and when was the last time that happened to you?
TR: Hunger only whets the appetite.
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACH)
JR (RUSSIAN): Here's your vodka.(GLASSES SET DOWN)
TR: Could I have some ice with it?
JR (RUSSIAN): No ice. Just vodka.
FN (PIRATE): Drink it up and then die, stranger.
GK: C'mon, mister. Back off.
FN (PIRATE): Aye, death and desolation have arrived. Misery was my mother and pestilence was my pa. I have the worst breath of any man or beast, one puff will knock a buzzard off the garbage truck. And when I pass gas, there is no protection against it. Silent Death; kills people and leaves the houses standing.
GK: You know, as a pirate, you are not that convincing.
FN (NORMAL VOICE): I didn't scare you even a little?
GK: Not really.
FN: Blood didn't run cold? No stomach cramps, no shivers up your spine?
GK: Nope.
JR (RUSSIAN): He is our official pirate. To amuse tourists in Galveston.
TR: Amuse, yes. Terrify, no.
GK: Anyway, thanks for the vodka. Hey, I see you got Willie Nelson on the jukebox.
JR (RUSSIAN): Of course.
GK: Interesting. Willie Nelson sings Puccini? Really?
JR (RUSSIAN): Why not? Willie is very versatile.
(JUKEBOX WHIRR, NEEDLE ON RECORD. WILLIE GUITAR.)
TR (AS WILLIE, SINGS): O mio babbino caro,
mi piace, e bello, bello.
Andare in Porta Rossa
and lemon strawberry Jello!
GK: And he sings the Notre Dame Fight Song? I had no idea.
(NEEDLE ON RECORD, WILLIE GUITAR)
TR (WILLIE): Cheer, cheer for old Notre Dame.
I hope the boys and girls win the game.
Crush them with brute force aggression,
Cheat if we must, then go to confession.
We never falter, we never fail......
(FADE OUT)
GK: Boy, he did it all, that Willie Nelson. Country, blues, rocknroll, pop, jazz----- look, he even did Joni Mitchell. I didn't know that.
(NEEDLE ON RECORD, WILLIE GUITAR)
TR (WILLIE): Rows of noses and cowtails
And milk cans and big hay bales
And cow manure everywhere,
I've looked at cows all day.
But now I hate them everyone,
Sometimes I'd like to get my gun
So many things I would have done,
But cows got in my way.
I've looked at cows from both sides now
Their heads and rumps and still somehow
I plan to leave here in the fall
I really don't like cows at all.
GK: Boy, that man has a way with a song, don't he.
FN: Yep. And a Republican state like Texas that can still love Willie Nelson is a state that is comfortable with its contradictions.
GK: I ought to get my song about wanting a gal in Galveston to Willie, he could make it a big hit.
FN: Hey, if you don't like my pirate act, I got something else to show you. Wait here.
JR (RUSSIAN): Get a load of this. Awesome. Totally. (FOOTSTEPS AWAY, THEN FOOTSTEPS BACK. DOLPHIN)
GK: A dolphin in a wheelbarrow?
FN: This ain't no ordinary dolphin. This is a performing dolphin.
Ask him a question. Go ahead. Ask a question.
GK: Who is the greatest country singer?
FN (DOLPHIN): Willie.
GK: What's a trick you can do on a bicycle ?
FN (DOLPHIN): Wheelie.
GK: What is the best-eating freshwater fish?
FN (DOLPHIN): Walleye.
GK: Wrong. Striped bass.
FN (DOLPHIN): Well, I don't think so.
GK: So you got a talking dolphin. What's so great about that?
FN: We're going to build a tank for him downtown. He can do a show for people. Every hour.
GK: And do what? Talk? He has rather poor diction, if you ask me.
FN (DOLPHIN): Little surfer little one
Made my heart come all undone
Do you love me, do you surfer girl
Surfer girl my little surfer girl
We could ride the surf together
While our love would grow
In my Woody I would take you everywhere I go ------ SHIP'S HORN BLASTS, OFF)
TR: There's our ship. Gotta go and ride around and whoop and shoot our guns.
GK: Good luck with the dolphin.
FN (PIRATE): Arrrrrrgh.
JR (RUSSIAN): Come back to Galveston ---- I'll get root beer for you.
(THEME)
GK: The Lives of the Cowboys.....brought to you by Trailblazer Table Napkins for a touch of elegance out on the trail.