Why can't a Jewish girl from Queens write a C&W song?

Midway through our Montana vacation, after a lovely day of hiking, Steve and I thought it would be fun to go out and hear some music.  We searched online and found a brewery about 10 miles outside of Missoula which featured a singer-songwriter from 5:30 – 8:00.  So off we went.

The beer was excellent. The music was awful.   The food was revelatory.   We ordered a “pickle flight:”

All I can say is: if you haven’t tried Pop Rocks on a  pickle, you haven’t really lived.

Steve, whose repartee is usually as sparkling as – well, Pop Rocks – was distracted, and having trouble keeping up his end of the conversation.  I was sitting opposite him, my back to the bar.   Behind me, seated at the bar, was a gentleman who appeared to be entirely bare-assed, his pants (one assumes) having slipped down when he sat.   

A few days after our return it occurred to me that “Butt Cheeks on a Bar Stool” would be an excellent name for a C&W song.   So I wrote it.  Steve and his guitar teacher, Sam Davis, were kind enough to record an accompaniment (Steve is on the bass, Sam on the guitar).   

If you’re looking for subtlety or nuance, you will not find it here. But if you’re nine years old (in fact or in spirit), this song’s for you – just click on this title to play it:

Butt Cheeks on a Bar Stool

Enjoy!   Or skip it.