Now That Would Impress Me
People I Used To Know • The Rapper And The Rancher - Part 2
One Minute Wit
People I Used To Know
I used to know a guy named Cookie.
He had a chip on his shoulder.
Thoughts While Walking
Now That Would Impress Me
If a boy in Idaho planted a russet potato,
and waited until it grew into a full-sized potato,
then he dug it up and cleaned it off,
and he looked up at the sky and threw the potato as hard as he could,
and the potato flew out of sight and eventually landed in Ireland.
Now that would impress me.
Story
The Rapper And The Rancher - Part 2
In part 1, Issac J, a young rapper wanna-be from New York, had an encounter with a famous producer who told him to move to Nashville and become a songwriter. This time we meet the Rancher.
Brandon was a rancher in Texas. The son of a wealthy rancher. But Brandon didn’t want to be a rancher. He wanted to be a country music singer. Brandon had been singing since he could talk. When he was ten, he and his Momma watched a couple of Elvis movies on TV, and he knew right then that he wanted to be a famous singer.
The years passed, and he kept singing. Then one day, Brandon bought some new cowboy boots, grabbed his guitar, and bought a one-way ticket on a deluxe aluminum-clad bus to fame and fortune. Nashville, Tennessee.
Brandon got off the bus and walked down the street. After a few minutes, he heard singing coming out of a small club named The Hat Rack. He saw an “Open Mic” sign in the window and went inside.
It was a small club with exposed brick on every wall. There was a bar running the length of one wall with autographed photos of country music stars covering the wall behind it. A dozen beat-up wooden tables and chairs filled the room. Every table was taken. At the far end of the room was a small stage where a 20-something guy dressed like a cowboy was singing.
Brandon walked up to the hostess and said, “Howdy, my name is Brandon Handy. I’m here to become a famous singer.”
“Is that so? Well, we have a special table for singers.”
“Great. Which one is it?” Brandon asked.
“All of them.”
“You mean all these folks are singers?”
“Listen, Darling. Everyone in this city is either a singer or a songwriter. Or both.”
“Shoot fire. Well, it don’t matter. I just gotta be better than all of ’em. That’s all.”
She laughed. “Come on. I’ll sit you with a songwriter. They are always looking for singers who need songs.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Don’t call me ma’am. I ain’t nearly old enough for that. Call me Julie.”
“Julie, huh? It fits you. A pretty name for a pretty girl. Like a jewel.”
“Save it, cowboy. I’m immune.”
Julie sat Brandon next to a young man who looked more than a little uncomfortable.
“Howdy, my name is Brandon Handy. I’m a singer.”
“Isaac J, “ the young man replied.
“You going up to sing?” Brandon asked.
“Nah. I’m just here to check things out and listen to some songs. I plan to be a songwriter.”
“Ain’t that somethin’. I do some songwriting myself. In fact, I just got here today. I’m fixin’ to be a singer. A big name.”
Isaac chuckled. “Are you going to sing?”
“Sure’nuff. In fact, I’m gonna go sign up right now. Save my seat, will ya?”
“No problem.”
Brandon signed up for the open mic and then came back to the table.
“I got five people in front of me. Can you wait?” Brandon asked Isaac.
“I got nothing else to do.”
“Sweet.”
Four singers got up and sang. Brandon was surprised at how good they were.
Another guy got up and sang. He said he was a songwriter shopping his song and wasn’t really a singer. He was right about the singing. But the song was pretty good. Finally, it was Brandon’s turn.
“Clap loud for me, Isaac,” Brandon said as he got up to sing.
“I got you,” Isaac said.
Brandon swaggered up to the tiny stage like he was already famous.
“Hey, ya’ll. Here is my newest song. I wrote it on the bus on the way here. I call it Victim Of Suspense.”
Brandon started picking his guitar. He was a surprisingly good guitar player. Then he sang.
Went hiking in new shoes
A mystery without no clues
If you don’t know, then sing the blues
You can ask, but I refuse
Common lost his sense
Let’s go jump that fence
Old man has sixpence
Victim of suspense
Up is down in my old town
Mundane is fantastic
Your face is quite elastic
Would you like a fresh fruit basket?
Walking down the road
Let me share the load
Watch out for that toad
Keep it à la mode
Common lost his sense
Let’s go jump that fence
Old man has sixpence
Victim of suspense
Tree bark, tree bark
Filling up the park
Common lost his sense
Let’s go jump that fence
Old man has sixpence
Victim of suspense
When he finished, most people just stared. Some laughed. After an awkward pause, the hostess Julie began clapping. Isaac and a few others joined her in polite applause. Brandon’s face turned red, and he walked back to the table and sat down.
Isaac looked at Brandon and said, “That was wack.”
“What?” Brandon asked.
“That song was crazy.”
“Really?” Brandon asked. He looked like he had just got punched in the gut.
“Gospel truth. But you can sing. And play guitar. You just need some good songs. And I need a singer. You want to work together?”
“I reckon we can try. You a good songwriter?”
“Let’s find out. Where you staying?”
“I ain’t got a place yet.”
“Good. I got a place not far from here. I could use a roommate to share the bills.”
“Deal. I got plenty of money. My Pa has a big ol’ ranch, and I been saving my pay for four years.”
“All right, partner, let’s go write some songs.”
Happy Monday. Thanks for reading and responding. You make it fun.
Mark
The jokes were a little corny, but funny. I like this story a lot. I imagine that's how a lot of singer "wannabe's" end up in Nashville. Looking forward to the next installment.
A trifecta of ticklers! Thanks Mark!