Mad Jack Hanks: Tales From the O-NO Ranch 7-16-12 | TheFencePost.com
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Mad Jack Hanks: Tales From the O-NO Ranch 7-16-12

Gentle readers, I do feel like singing a new song or any song for that matter on this Saturday morn.

The O-NO got another inch of good ole slow rain that I had prayed for a couple of weeks back. I had gotten almost an inch just about 10 days ago. I have to tell ya these short grass prairies can rebound and green up faster than Joe Biden can cover his mouth after a miscue.

I was sitting on the front deck with a cup of cowboy coffee just watching an antelope lope across the fast turning pasture. Now I wonder if the antelope got part of his name from his loping skills? Hummmm?



Back to a new song. It was just the other day I was in me Lazy Boy with a brain that was null and void or so it seemed. All of a sudden out of nowhere came a few words that rhymed and there seemed to be a jingle runnin’ right along side of it. Strange isn’t it how that happens? Actually, I think it only happens to strange people such as myself. I rose from the Lazy Boy, retrieved my guitar and started to put a little song together. I call it Red’s Cabaret.

Here goes:



Red’s Cabaret

I went to Nashville to pick and to sing.

I knew music city held captive my dreams.

I played for the big boys and gave it a shot.

After a short discussion they said to me,

“I reckon not!”

Ya need to play and be able to sing,

to tell ya the truth, we ain’t heard a thing!

Ya need a rip in yer jeans & hair like the king.

This here is Nashville and it’s

all about BLING.

If you want a place to sing and to play

ya need to go to Tucson to Red’s Cabaret.

Red’s is a place where anything goes,

Willie got started there a’singin’

through his nose.

Red’s got back up music & a live microphone.

If the crowd don’t clap, they may be stoned.

That’s our advice, all we can say,

just pack yer guitar and head to Red’s Cabaret.

So I packed my guitar & by thumb I did go

plumb across Texas and New Mexico.

I landed in Tucson at two in the morn.

I said to myself, “Self, a star is born!”

I followed the bright lights, stepped into Red’s.

The dance floor was empty and

the place it was dead.

Took out my guitar, started singin’ my song.

A man soon appeared & it didn’t take long.

Red, he comes over and gave me a glance,

said, “Son, ya need hair like Elvis and

a rip in yer pants, to tell ya the truth,

I ain’t heard a thing,

I need a man that can play and

one that can sing!”

Red finally hired me after hearing my plea,

fed me a taco & told me to roll up my sleeves.

Instead of a mic, I’m holdin’ a mop & a broom

a’singin’ my heart out

cleanin’ the men’s restin’ room.

I’m singin’ at Red’s six nights a week,

He’s feedin’ me tacos & boardin’ my keep.

My pickin’ and singin’ gets better it seems,

so I’m headed to Nashville

to capture my dreams!

Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion and I’ll c y’all, all y’all. ❖


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