Thursday, February 4, 2010

"Earl Fantasy Number One"

It’s my birthday today.

I’m 65.

Once again, this is the oldest I’ve ever been.

But it’s getting scarier. My grandfather was sixty-five. That’s old.

Unless I live to a hundred and thirty, I have gone way past the half way point. Way, way past.

I’ve noticed the changes. And I’m not just talking about the galoot I see in the mirror. My playful banter with the ladies behind the checkout counters has officially consigned me to the “Aww” version of the “adorable” category. Not that I had any intention of following through. But there’s a saddening certainty that, without coming into of billions of dollars, sixty-five sets me permanently on the bench.

When you reach the age where the government pays for your medicine, you realize there are certain things you will never get to do. For me, these are not realistic things I would do if I only had the time or the money or the guts. These were just harbored fantasies. They were never going to happen. But when you’re younger, you have an easier time fooling yourself that they might.

Before abandoning these unlikely but, until recently, imaginable possibilities, I have decided to file them for posterity on this blog. I don’t know how many of these fantasies there are; I keep some secret even from myself. But I’m kicking off the series with this one:

Earl Pomerantz – Performing at the Cowboy Hall of Fame

I come onstage, dressed as “cowboy” as my spouse will allow me to appear in public, and in a voice, more energetic than melodic, I open my mouth, and I start to sing:

He cleaned up the country

The Old Wild West country

He made law and order prevail

And none can deny it

The legend of Wyatt

Forever will live on the trail.

Wyatt Earp, Wyatt Earp

Brave, courageous, and bold

Long live his fame, and long live his glory

And long may his story be told…

Back when the West was very young

There lived a man named Masterson

He wore a cane and derby hat

They called him Bat

Bat Masterson…

Who was the tall, dark stranger there

Maverick is the name

Ridin’ the trail to who knows where

Luck is his companion

Gamblin’ is his game…

Whistle me up a memory

Whistle me back to where I want to be

Whistle a tune that will carry me

To Tombstone Territory…

“Have Gun – Will Travel”, reads the card of a man

A knight without armor in a savage land

His fast gun for hire meets the calling wind

A soldier of fortune is the man called


They sing of Yancey Derringer on every danger trail

On river boat, in manor house

And now and then in jail

They say that Yancey Derringer

Had ruffles at his wrists

Brocade and silver buckles

And iron in his fists…

Ringo, Johnny Ringo

His fears were never shown

The fastest gun in all the West

The quickest ever known…

Johnny Yuma was a rebel

He roamed through the West

Did Johnny Yuma, the rebel

He wandered alone

He got fightin’ mad, this rebel lad

He packed no star as he wandered far

Where the only law was a hook and a…


The Lawman came with the sun

There was a job to be done

And so they sent for the badge and the gun

Of the Lawman…

Cheyenne, Cheyenne, where will you be camping tonight…

Sugarfoot, Sugarfoot

Easy lopin’ cattle ropin’


Bronco, Bronco, tearin’ across the Texas plains

Bronco, Bronco – Bronco Lane…

He roamed the wilderness, unafraid

From Natchez to Rio Grande

With all the might of his gleaming blade

He fought for the rights of Man.

Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie

He was a bold, adventurin’ man

Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie

Battled for right with a powerful hand

His blade was tempered and so was he

Indestructible steel was he

Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie

A fightin’ and fearless and mighty adventurin’ man…


Movin’, movin’, movin’

Though they’re disapprovin’

Keep them doggies movin’


Don’t try to understand ‘em

Just rope and throw and brand ‘em

Soon we’ll be livin’ high and wide

My heart’s calculatin’

My true love will be waitin’

Be waitin’ at the end of my ride.

Get ‘em up, move ‘em on

Move ‘em on, get ‘em up

Get ‘em up, move ‘em on


Ride ‘em in, cut ‘em out

Cut ‘em out, ride ‘em in

Ride ‘em in, cut ‘em out



And the crowd goes wild.

Coming Soon: Earl Pomerantz Entertains at the White House”


Anonymous said...

Hi Pardner
I remember the rehearsal for this event....Banff, 1980-something, on horseback, up and down the trails of the great Rockies. Those were the days.

angel said...

Happy Birthday Earl!!!!!

65 isn't old, my guy has you beat by 2 years and I don't think he has given up on any possibilities...yet. :-)

Remember, with the new valve, you have at least another 65 in ya.


A. Buck Short said...

Wunnerful, wunnerful! As a special birthday gift, to spare you the tedium of further daily exposition, every morning Frankie Lane will be singing the rest of your life on this blog’s new soundtrack. Unfortunate since you are now still not old enough for Blogger’s most coveted demographic, we’ve given your 4 a.m. timeslot to Jay Leno and moved you back to 3:30. Incidentally, Dimitri Tiomkin extends his best wishes, and requests a comparable big screen medley. The Warner Bros. also send their regards. Happy Birthday.

growingupartists said...

Earl, if I said I'd pay BIG BUCKS to see you pull this off...I'd be underexaggerating. Do bucks come any bigger?

Just wondering.

Anonymous said...

Happy Birthday Earl!!!!
Wishing you a great year.

A. Buck Short said...


Warner Bros. actual regards.

45 is the new 30 said...

HAPPY BIG 6-5, EARL ... Hoping this is just the start of a wonderful year!

Max Clarke said...

Happy Birthday, you've had a very interesting year, but you've still got the funny gene.

Nice cowboy fantasy. Reminds me of the movie, The Blues Brothers, when the brothers are about to be attacked at the country/western bar, but they save the day with a rendition of "Rawhide."

JED said...

Happy Birthday, Earl.

Every birthday, I claim that medical science has advanced enough in the past year that I still have half my life to go.

Jim Dodd
(not THAT Jimmie Dodd)

Brian Scully said...

Wow, thanks for the trip down memory lane of all the westerns of my youth, Earl... and Happy Birthday! (People say that 45 is the new 30 and 65 is the new 50... and "Dead" is the new 90)

Paloma said...

Happy Birthday Earl!