THE OLD OUTLAW

My family (Along with Grandpa and Grandma) heading west in mid 1950s





In the early 1950s my family took several trips west that I remember as the best times of my childhood. As a tribute to my mother and father who had the wonderful foresight to give me such fond memories here is a poem that I wrote about a fictional outlaw.


My Mom and Dad and my two brothers and me
When I was a boy in nineteen hundred and fifty three
Took a trip way out west to the wilds of Wyoming
Ending up in small town on the third day of roaming
Way out in Wyoming
Our third day of roaming

Dad stopped in town as it was getting short of daylight
And asked an old man where we might find a camp site
The old man says I got the spot just for your tent
If you give me a ride out to the old Pitchfork Ranch
The old Pitchfork Ranch
A spot for your tent

The old man climbed into our station wagon a smelling
Of whiskey and beer and manure and proceeded to telling
The directions on how to arrive out at the old Pitchfork ranch
While pulling a bag of snuff from his hip and taking a pinch
Riding to the ranch
While taking a pinch

He had on an old Stetson hat red plaid shirt and cowboy boots
And clear blue eyes and teeth stained brown with tobacco juice
And when we arrived the old man says puller right over here
So we stop next to an old wood corral holding six or seven steer
Six or seven steer
Right over here

He steps in an old ranch house as we hear the old door creak
Then comes back and says the boss says set her up by the creek
And guides us down a hill to a creek rippling though the woods
And says pitch camp here and I’ll fetch you folks some firewood
Fetch some firewood
From out in the woods

The old man totes over an old wheelbarrow full of poplar sticks
And by then the sun has set and dad is lighting the lantern wick
The old man and I put together the makings of a roaring camp fire
He sits and tells of robbing banks and trains and smoky gunfire
Telling of trains and gunfire
Alongside a roaring camp fire

He says it seems like yesterday when I rode with old Sundance
We’d ride into the hole in the wall with that hidden entrance
And Butch would laugh and pull up his buckskin over the butte
We’d unmount and Butch and Sundance would divide up the loot
Divide up the loot
Just over the Butte
Now that was a hoot

People say them old rascals Butch and Sundance met their fate
In Bolivia or some such place in South America in ought eight
But I know it just ain’t so cause I seen old Butch in his model tee
He stopped to chew the fat with me at the Pitchfork in twenty three
Yes sir ree
Old Butch and his model tee
We shot the breeze
Back in twenty three

Outlaws and horses and trains and pistols a-blazing
While making me a campfire with the logs hot a-blazing
An old outlaw tells about the old days and a-longing
To be ridding old trails and out-riding those lawmen
His old heart a-longing
To be out-riding those lawmen

Outlaws and horses and trains and pistols a-blazing
While making me a campfire with the logs hot a-blazing
An old outlaw tells about the old days and a-longing
To be ridding old trails and out-riding those lawmen
My old heart a-longing
To be sitting and listening
To an old outlaw telling
Of his long ago riding


Copyright 2011 Wayne Nolen. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.

A special class of liars

When we were growing up we were taught that honesty was the best policy. And telling the truth was a big part of that policy. Yeah, there were exceptions that were allowed like when Grandma asked how you liked her raison cookies. But overall you were expected to be truthful. Later on you found that indeed this honesty policy served you well in both your personal life and professional career; it is much easier to keep stuff straight and your memory accurate with the truth.

There are people who live their lives with obvious exceptions to this truth rule. Crooks, con artists, most lawyers, many home mortgage agents or brokers, some CEOs, many bloggers, and a few preachers come to mind. As for the crooks, con-artists and lawyers we don’t usually pile their instances of lying onto our already poor opinion of them as we know in the case of the crooks that they mainly lie to protect themselves; and with the con-artists and lawyers the lies are simply tools of their professions. We are not so forgiving when it comes to the home mortgage agents, CEOs and preachers. The lying mortgage agents who lied homeowners out of their homes and put our economy into a tailspin are now seen as just one step above child molesters; just ask any family that lost their home to a sub prime loan. Many of the lying CEOs would be looked on as pariahs, except that we never seem to come into contact with them to offer that scorn. We see the lying preachers as being hypocritical and especially disappointing. No one much cares about the lies of the blogger as we know they can’t be trusted anyway.

You have probably already noticed that I have excluded politicians from the list above. I didn’t forget them but feel that they deserve a category of their own. Why do they deserve such special treatment? Yes it is true that they use their lies as tools of their trade; but classifying them with the con-artists and lawyers seems to fall short of the mark. And indeed their lies are many times hypocritical and disappointing, but they still don’t seem to fit in with the lying home mortgage agents, lying CEOs and lying preachers.

You may have guessed that the answer is that they fit into both categories; and I agree that they do, but there is still a better reason.

How many times have you heard Barack Obama say that Mr. McCain had defined the middle-class as anyone making fewer than five million dollars a year? In reality Mr. McCain was making a joke, got a laugh and followed up by saying, "But seriously ..."

And how many times has John McCain claimed that Mr. Obama’s health care plan would force small businesses to cut jobs and put a bureaucrat between you and your doctor. But in fact, the plan actually exempts small businesses and allows those who have health insurance to keep their private coverage.

Incidentally, if you don’t like these two examples go to FactCheck.org where you can find your own.

How many times? Even the crook will invent new lies when he learns that the old ones are disproved, unless of course he is a psychopath or is mentally challenged. The con-artist knows that he must frequently change up his lies or he will soon be out of business. Many of the lying home mortgage agents are now indeed out of business. Lying CEOs are forced out with their golden parachutes and the lying preachers offer up their mea culpas and usually keep on preaching although a few do end up in jail.

Why are politicians in a class of liars by themselves? Who else could offer up the same disproved lies day after day and still look us straight in the eye?

Wayne Nolen