| Dr. Boblog #5 (Sept. – Oct. – Nov. 2008) |
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“Redneck Boy From Illinois:” The Only Republican to Ever Play With Dr. Bob As we draw near to the end of a typically frenzied and far too lengthy American political season, it seems an appropriate time for me to reveal that I have never voted in my life. Well, that’s not exactly true. I did vote twice. Once when I was running for high school senior class vice president and, later, I voted for myself to get into my college newspaper’s hall of fame. So, to be entirely accurate, I guess I should say that I don’t vote unless I’m running. I am not running for president so I won’t be voting. Unless, of course, Paris Hilton actually does run for president. She threatened to do so in a recent TV spot responding to Sen. John McCain’s unauthorized use of her image in an attack ad on Sen. Barack Obama. I would vote for Paris Hilton for president. She is pretty close to being my dream girl. Britney Spears used to be my dream girl, but her sudden, tragic fall from grace has soured me on her. Nope, these days I’m a Paris Hilton man. She is a totally awesome babe. I think Paris Hilton would be a totally bitchin’ president. Consider some of the great policies I’m sure that she would institute: free condoms, mandatory stripper poles in every American bedroom, required daily attendance at your local bar’s happy hour, all residential zoning ordinances across the country would have to include backyard swimming pools. And on and on. All foreign policy and diplomatic discussions would be conducted exclusively in V.I.P. lounges. The White House would be immediately relocated to Vegas and given a much more happening exterior color scheme. The Lavender House, perhaps? To go with the stunning red carpet out front underneath the portico. There would be peace on earth. There would be no time for war because life would be one big cocktail party and fashion show. Yeah, baby! Hot! President Paris Hilton would immediately withdraw all our troops from the Middle East so they could be redeployed Stateside for the all-important “war on the paparazzi” which she would announce during her inaugural address. But I digress. It’s probably a good thing that I don’t vote. Musicians are such dreamers that we probably all should be banned from going anywhere near the ballot box. Tom Petty summed it up aptly when he was asked at a Super Bowl press conference last year who he was supporting for president. “Guitar players shouldn’t give opinions on politics,” he said. Right on. So, for whatever reason, I don’t vote. People say, “If you don’t vote, don’t complain.” I have scoured the United States Constitution and nowhere do I find it written therein: “If you don’t vote, don’t complain.” Therefore, just to prove that this great land truly is a free country, I don’t vote and all I do is complain. Before all of you super patriots start sending me nasty e-mails, look at it this way: The fact that I don’t vote makes your vote count that much more. So, in a certain way, my non-voting stance is simply a compliment to all of my fellow citizens who do vote. Let’s just say that I trust all of you good-hearted, benevolent Americans to look out for my interests when you enter that voting booth. We’re all in this together, right? But, once again, I digress. Anyway, as I’ve said, I don’t vote and all I do is complain. Fortunately, most of my complaining is done in my song lyrics. So most of my whining is at least somewhat entertaining and accompanied by music. A good example of one my political protest songs is “Common Man,” which can be heard on this website’s MP3 player: “The Common Man” (Dedicated to Woody Guthrie) Introduction: They say this land is paradise, I guess it could be so If you’ve got three brand new cars, two houses, and a boat They say this land is your land, they say this land is mine Lately, I’ve been wondering if that’s true in modern times Chorus: And there’s crooks up in the boardroom cookin’ books and making plans That never seem to benefit the poor old common man Those big-wigs think they’re smart but they’d better understand That you just don’t underestimate the mighty common man Verse I: Just like George Washington when he chopped that cherry tree I’m here to say what’s up, my friend, I tell the truth, you see A revolution started things in this fair and blessed land That’s a word to the wise – you don’t provoke the common man Verse II: Tom Jefferson once said that all men here are made the same But that didn’t stop that noble man from owning ninety slaves Lincoln came to save our souls, came to emancipate But he did too much for the common man so they laid him in his grave Verse III: Henry Ford had a clever mind, invented the assembly line Made a billion bucks, it seems, but he killed a million poor boys’ dreams Bill Gates used technology to computerize society But the common man was left outside that digital divide Verse IV: In Louisiana, Huey Long said, “every man a king” But a rich man shot that Kingfish dead and it didn’t mean a thing Gandhi, Bobby, JFK, and Martin Luther King Men of peace met conspiracy and it didn’t mean a thing Verse V: In this land it’s supposed to be one vote for you, one vote for me But special interest conspiracies have killed democracy Jesus said “listen to me and there will come a day you’ll see, A camel through a needle’s eye before a rich man sits on high” Considering my political leanings, some observers might be surprised to learn that I actually once played with a Republican. It was in a folk music duo when I was in high school. His name was Alan Kelly. He was a couple of years older than me. He was the first human being I ever knew on a personal level who actually wrote songs. (And damn good ones, too.) He made me realize that I could write songs, too. He was a great mentor. He was also a died-in-the-wool Republican. He liked to call himself “the Hawk.” He was pro-Nixon and pro-Vietnam at a time, the early ‘70s, when such positions were totally uncool. I admired his individuality and lack of fear of being ostracized by the hippie counterculture (of which I was, admittedly, a member). I also admired his musicianship, songwriting, and performance skills. Although I was younger than him, he took me under his wing as his protégé and guitarist. We performed frequently. I played my first bar gigs with him. My first road gigs, as well. I did my first recording sessions with Alan Kelly. (At a studio in Peoria, Illinois, where REO Speedwagon had cut tracks a few days before.) Alan Kelly introduced me to overdubbing and multi-track recording. Kelly was one of a kind. A gregarious, very social dude, he was in the tradition of Irish pub singers. He sang in a husky baritone. He played a nylon-stringed classical guitar as opposed to the steel string acoustics favored by most folkies at the time. His music was mellow. It was very Celtic and medieval. I enjoyed playing it because it reminded me of Traffic’s “John Barleycorn Must Die” period and some of Jethro Tull’s acoustic pieces. Kelly also drew on more conventional sources such as blues, folk, country, and rags. Alan Kelly went on to become the head of the Denver Folk Arts Center and has released several top-notch CDs of his original material. Kelly and I wrote one song together, “Redneck Boy From Illinois.” It contains perhaps some of the most politically incorrect diatribes of all time. Before you start sending those nasty e-mails over the lyrics printed below, please note the following: - The song is a whimsical, satirical, tongue-in-cheek character sketch of a certain sub-species of humans I became aware of while growing up in southern Illinois. In other words, it’s a joke. It’s not serious. Let’s lighten up, people. - I do not personally advocate any of the positions espoused by the central character in the song. Specifically, I do not support gay-bashing and/or drunk driving. So, save those cards and letters, all you Mothers Against Drunk Driving and gay-pride-alliance types, OK? - Furthermore, I am not the Redneck Boy from Illinois anymore than, say, Heath Ledger was the Joker. Got it? So, with those disclaimers, here are the lyrics (with some topical references from the original updated) to “Redneck Boy From Illinois:” Incidentally, I will be performing this song along with Dr. Bob co-founder and vocalist, Bets Pott, three nights in a row in October in Nashville at the following venues: - Oct. 12…Operation Smile benefit (w/ Delbert McClinton) - Oct. 13…Bluebird Café (open mic) - Oct. 14…The Basement (open mic) E-mail us at drbobjdh.com for details. “Redneck Boy From Illinois” Verse I: Well, I’m a redneck boy from Illinois and I always do what’s right I’m a preacher’s son and I carry a gun I kill terrorists for Christ “Dukes of Hazzard” is my favorite show And when I hear Toby Keith on the radio My temperature rise and I get the hives I wanna gouge some hippie’s eyes Chorus: Every Friday night just to get my kicks I go out driving in my Chevy six Cruisin’ and a-boozin’ on a bottle of Bud I’m happy as heck, I’m redneck stud Saturday night I head into town Lookin’ for a fairy just to knock him down If there’s a law against it, I don’t care There’s right and there’s wrong, But then there’s fair Verse II: I’ve got a dozen guns I’ll trade for bigger ones Or maybe even NASCAR cards I read Ann Coulter books and I hate the kooks Who bug me at the trailer park Remember, heaven-sent means a president Lord, help a boy who can’t pay his rent And save me from you’se who do as you choose Won’t you save me from American blues Verse III: I wear clean, white socks with stripes on the tops Nothing personal, just the way I dress And when I see these freaks hanging out on the streets Don’t you know, I feel depressed Well, nothing today is the same at all The only thing sacred – VFW hall This ain’t no threat, but I’m willing to bet That the worst ain’t happened yet Verse IV: Well, my hobbies include being nasty and rude And writing on the bathroom walls I’ve got a hundred tattoos, swear by Wolverine shoes And creases in my overalls Well, the American Dream is all that it seems Time to kick a little butt in the Middle East You hate to lose when you make the rules Won’t you save me from American blues Well, I’m a redneck boy from Illinois And I always do what’s right |
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