Cannon’s Canons: 3 loose shots

Streets of Laredo, Big Brother's Family Album, the Cowboy Sutra Listening Party

1. The Perks of Being Doomed: “Streets of Laredo”

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the old cowboy classic, “Streets of Laredo.” In fact, when it came time to record the song for my new album of cowboy laments, Cowboy Sutra, I rewrote the lyrics from the perspective of a dying dance hall girl from the old West.

Beyond the longevity of the song--over 200 two-hundred years--I’m curious how listeners have processed the entitlement the hero assumes purely because his life is ending. In the earliest and best-known version, a young cowboy has been shot and is wrapped in white linen awaiting his death. As he contemplates his wild and reckless life and regrets being cut down in his prime, a stranger walks by. The dying cowboy hails him and without shame or hesitation, assigns the stranger the role of funeral director and financier of his post-life rites.

This premise shows up in most versions from the oldest forward. In the earliest, “The Unfortunate Rake, the hero is a soldier dying of VD in front of a London Hospital. In that first version, the soldier asks another soldier to do his bidding.

The most common version, “Streets of Laredo” goes like this: “I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy.” The dying cowboy spies a stranger on the street wearing a cowboy hat and under the pretext of occupational brotherhood goes straight to the point, instructing the stranger about his funerial needs--

“sixteen gamblers to carry my coffin, Six purty maidens to sing me a song,”

plus the transportation costs,

“Take me to the valley and lay the sod o'er me.”

And there’s more. Musicians must be hired,

"Oh, beat the drum slowly and play the fife lowly, Play the dead march as they carry me along.”

Then, there's the floral bill.

“Put bunches of roses all over my coffin, Roses to deaden the clods as they fall." Can you imagine what fresh roses cost in a backwater town like Laredo, Texas in 1880?

Finally, the chorus ends with the sob story,

“For I'm a young cowboy and know I done wrong."

The fact is, when we realize the undeserved injustices in life, we're justifiably indignant. By damn, we have a right to be grumpy, whining, and can even boss people around, even instructing the fifes to play pianissimo,reprimanding the players if they get too loud.

2. “BIG BROTHER’s” FAMILY ALBUM: Banned from Facebook

I got this notice from Facebook after they finally put me through their verification process. They instructed me to stand in front of my phone camera. Then I was ordered to turn this way and that so they could, ironically enough, verify my present face using all the faces they have collected from me during my tenure with Facebook. 48 hours later, they notified me that I had violated their community standards by not being who I said I was, who my parents always said I was, and who I’ve been to all people throughout my life. There are no more appeals. I am now Faceless in the eyes of Facebook.

Consider the power META holds by controlling this gigantic BOOK of FACES, 3.07 billion monthly active users. It’s staggering. Many people wrote after last week's Boost either with condolences for my disowning or congratulations for being freed. Frankly, I’m feeling a bit of both.

Friends, please don’t try to reach me through Facebook. You may knock but I won’t answer. If you do get an answer, or worse yet, someone reaching disguised as me, be cautious.

That’s all folks.

3. Celebrating Cowboy Sutra with an intimate listening party

Teresa hosted a listening party to informally launch Cowboy Sutra. Our living room was full of neighbors from the moorage. We all live on floating homes and our neighbors, about two dozen households, are an interesting and quirky lot. Among them are some committed working artists. A few of those were our guests that night. I was a little nervous to play them my album. How would my old cowboy laments go over with these celebrated artists? Would people have the patience to sit still for almost 40 minutes?

Anxiety aside, I have a nice stereo with cool French speakers and when I play vinyl the sound fills the room. I even like noise the record makes. It triggers precious memories of listening to records with my friends when I was young.

The process starts with the act of setting the record on the turntable and cueing up the needle. As a listener you can close your eyes and, unlike watching a movie with others, you get to take in the music any way you want. You don’t need to keep track of a story. You can relax into the sound. You can even go to sleep if you’re tired. And we accept that everyone has his or her own opinion of music. It’s sociable in the best sense of the word. And almost a lost art.

That night we gathered in comfortable chairs and our couch. We passed around the album cover featuring Edward Bateman’s art. Though the cover looks good at CD-size, the 12”X12” album is glorious and as they say, “suitable for framing.” We played the first side, then took that natural break to serve dessert before we listened to side two.

I could tell this music was not like anything these folks were used to hearing, never the less, our guests were courteous. Afterword, there was no discussion of my music which suited me but what was interesting is how quickly the conversation turned to what was shared between the other artists in the room. That was the subject of cats and dogs in film and animation. It turns out that Joan Gratz, a noted animation artist, was to be part of an upcoming cat video festival coming to town from its premiere event at Lincoln Center. Then Chris Simon, also a filmmaker and our house guest, mentioned that she had made a feline video short, so, of course, we had to pull up both films on our big old TV and view them. Then Jim, another filmmaking neighbor, asked if dog videos counted, so we watched a music video he made for Michael Jackson singing his 1989 hit “Leave Me Alone” starring dogs playing in an amusement park. It's one of the most-watched music videos of all time.

The next day I heard from Jim and Melissa that they loved my record and particularly the experience of listening together. And, by the way, here’s a new review from Americana UK Magazine. The whole evening was a wonderful experiment and I didn’t even need to set up a sound system and tune instruments. Mostly, it was satisfying to share work.

We are all makers, after all.