We come to a milestone in the countdown: guest slots. Tonight I'd like to introduce Dugym Qycfyl (pronounced duggum quick fill) as a songwriter who will be collaborating with Knees Calhoon for several songs coming up. Dugym writes the lyrics and Knees adds the music. Just like Rogers and Hammerstein or Abbot and Costello.
How did this magical pairing come about? One day back in the 90s or so Dugym dropped off on my desk a folder of song lyrics he had scribbled overnight. This was one of the first that I recorded and it has one of my favorite effects -- singers who can't hear each other. It's like having Don and Phil Everly in separate rooms when they sing -- and they have to guess at each other's phrasing.
It was only later that Knees discovered that there was a short story to go along with the song. Read all about it below.
I spill out a gallon of reg'lar
Fillin' up my Nova at the pump.
Got me an old dead battery.
Now I'm just waitin' for a jump.
So I roll me up some sensemilla
Just to pass the time away.
I light up with a match from my pocket
And step up to the winder to play.
Well I drop that match and it lands in the gas
And the whole damn station blows up.
The fire engines come and they put out the fire
And then I'm talkin' to a cop.
He asks "What happened?" and I tell him "Don't know--
I was just here fillin' up my Rolls.
When for no good reason the gas catches fire and
The whole damn station blows."
Now I don't think he believes me, 'cause I'm greasy
And I'm dressed in blue jeans.
He asks me what I've been smokin' and I ask him
Just what he means?
And he says "Now don't get smart, kid,
Or I'm gonna have to take you in."
And I ask "Oh yeah?" and he says "You bet."
And he belts me smack on the chin.
I drop like a sack of potatoes
And I lay there lookin' up at the cop.
And he reaches out with his taser
And zaps me--so I ask him to stop.
He laughs and says “I don’t think so, kid,”
And reaches out to shock me some more.
So I jump up and get him in a headlock
And smash his face to the floor.
That just makes him pissed so he pulls out his stick
And pokes me once or twice in the groin.
Then he slaps on the cuffs and reads me my rights
And asks, “Kid, you know where you’re goin’?”
And I say “Yeah, I know. But you’ll never make it stick.”
And he says, “Now, watch your head.”
But they do make it stick, and the judge says twenty years
And now I wish I was dead.
That damn old 66 blue Chevy Nova
Was just more trouble than I need.
I shoulda fixed the leaky gas tank.
I shouldna lit me up that weed.
I guess I just wasn’t thinkin’
’Cause the sign said “No smoking here.”
But to go to jail ’cause I didn’t read the sign
Well it just don’t seem quite fair.
So I sit behind bars and I watch TV
And I wait for my sentence to end.
And if I stay out of trouble and act real good
I’ll only do five or ten.
But they won’t let me have no matches here
And I can’t get my hands on no pot.
When you’re in a Federal prison for arson
You just got to sit and rot.
But man! that blaze was a beauty!
I think I’d like to see it again
So I’m learning all I can about ’splosives
In the library here in the pen.
Fillin' up my Nova at the pump.
Got me an old dead battery.
Now I'm just waitin' for a jump.
So I roll me up some sensemilla
Just to pass the time away.
I light up with a match from my pocket
And step up to the winder to play.
Well I drop that match and it lands in the gas
And the whole damn station blows up.
The fire engines come and they put out the fire
And then I'm talkin' to a cop.
He asks "What happened?" and I tell him "Don't know--
I was just here fillin' up my Rolls.
When for no good reason the gas catches fire and
The whole damn station blows."
Now I don't think he believes me, 'cause I'm greasy
And I'm dressed in blue jeans.
He asks me what I've been smokin' and I ask him
Just what he means?
And he says "Now don't get smart, kid,
Or I'm gonna have to take you in."
And I ask "Oh yeah?" and he says "You bet."
And he belts me smack on the chin.
I drop like a sack of potatoes
And I lay there lookin' up at the cop.
And he reaches out with his taser
And zaps me--so I ask him to stop.
He laughs and says “I don’t think so, kid,”
And reaches out to shock me some more.
So I jump up and get him in a headlock
And smash his face to the floor.
That just makes him pissed so he pulls out his stick
And pokes me once or twice in the groin.
Then he slaps on the cuffs and reads me my rights
And asks, “Kid, you know where you’re goin’?”
And I say “Yeah, I know. But you’ll never make it stick.”
And he says, “Now, watch your head.”
But they do make it stick, and the judge says twenty years
And now I wish I was dead.
That damn old 66 blue Chevy Nova
Was just more trouble than I need.
I shoulda fixed the leaky gas tank.
I shouldna lit me up that weed.
I guess I just wasn’t thinkin’
’Cause the sign said “No smoking here.”
But to go to jail ’cause I didn’t read the sign
Well it just don’t seem quite fair.
So I sit behind bars and I watch TV
And I wait for my sentence to end.
And if I stay out of trouble and act real good
I’ll only do five or ten.
But they won’t let me have no matches here
And I can’t get my hands on no pot.
When you’re in a Federal prison for arson
You just got to sit and rot.
But man! that blaze was a beauty!
I think I’d like to see it again
So I’m learning all I can about ’splosives
In the library here in the pen.
Dugym says this song was inspired by Knees Calhoon's 1959 Pinocchio Timex Blues, but unlike that song which was made up out of whole cloth, this one is about a real car and a real event. If you'd like to read the whole story, here it is.
NOTE: The following is a PDF of the 10-Cent Book Ramble House published back in 2004. It's no longer in print so why not enjoy all THREE of the short stories in it? There's even an introduction that tells you quite a bit about Ramble House and its genesis.
Jacket design by Gavin L. O'Keefe
