Saaaaaaaaaaa-lute

RIP
Buck Owens
12 august 1929 - 25 march 2006



i remember buck owens from as far back as i remember. my dad loved to watch "hee-haw", and buck was still putting out hits in the 70's. i guess the song i most identified with him was "streets of bakersfield."

when i was 21, a friend and i went to california for a week. we finished the week by visiting kim and jeannie jensen, who were living in bakersfield. after dinner, everyone went to sleep while i stayed up alone. i put on my walkman and went out into the night for the proverbial walk. in retrospect, it was really quite uneventful and anti-climactic; but, nevertheless, i had done what i had set out to do. i don't know what it is in me that creates this desire to do these kind of pilgrimage-type activities. for some reason, these kind of things keep popping up in my vacations...both realized and anticipated.

some years later, dwight yoakam coaxed buck out of his self-imposed banishment long enough to record a new version of "streets of bakersfield." it was fantastic. not only did it join the talents of two of my favorite singers, it was different. dwight and buck had added accordions and a cumbia drum beat to turn this bakersfield twang into a semi-tejano-sounding amalgam. i loved it. buck became relevant once more, and all was well.

a couple of years ago, i put together a cd containing alot of buck's best music. the biggest motivator was my own desire to have his music constantly ready for use. i have to admit that the other reason was so that i could introduce his music into the consciousness of my son. he had already rejected sinatra, so i figured i would try to lead him to my second favorite musician. if you can't brainwash your own son, what's the point of being smarter than he?

as it turns out, jackson loves buck owens and the buckaroos. we sing along together, and laugh at buck's silly songs. j's favorite is "cigareets, whisky, and wild, wild women." early in his buck-listening career, we were all riding in the car together, while listening to buck's greatest. after the previous two stories, it should be obvious that we were listening to "streets of bakersfield." just as buck tells us that he's "spent a thousand miles a thumbin' ," jackson popped his own thumb out of its customary place in his mouth, and declared, " hey! just like me!" in that moment, the circular nature of the universe opened a bit in my eyes. way to go, buck. thanks man. we will miss you.