We went to the local farmers' market this morning, a pleasant valley Sunday in So. Cal. While wandering in the shifting tapestry of folks and families, flowers and vegetables, handmade jewelry, t-shirts, kettle corn, and candles, I could hear distant country music.
When we reached the end of the market, there's a guy playing a nice old Martin, singing "Folsom Prison."
It didn't seem like a morning for "I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die," what with the good-natured crowd, the bright sun and spring-like feel in the air. I remarked that Buck Owens had passed on Friday. He riffed a bit on "Tiger By The Tail." Buck's cheery melody fit the sunny morning a lot better.
We chatted about Buck for a few minutes; that he was from Texas (his 'real' name was Alvis), that he had a bunch of hits, that he was the pride of Bakersfield - constantly involved in the community - that he and Merle Haggard, both sons of westward-bound dust-bowl families, defined the western in country and western. Now only Merle is left.
As we walked away, our friend was playing Merle's "Mama Tried."
I'm hoping to hear Buck's "Act Naturally" next Sunday.
Washington Post.