What They Were
Johnny’s son says his father and Waylon
were always such good friends.
Like brothers. Such good brothers.
Icons of that half of The Highwaymen
are painted black and white, two men
of the old cut posed close enough
with sweat hair and tooth smiles, never
in a hurry for the next set. Such good brothers.
Like outlaws. Such good outlaws.
The two sang until they died. Waylon
went first. Johnny lasted one more year.
Both died of complications from diabetes,
as if they overgorged on this world’s sweetness
daring the rest of us to follow. Such good outlaws.
Like pioneers. Such good pioneers.
I grew up listening to these fellers — their music cut through Saturday and Sunday mornings as my mom’s boyfriend taught me how to make and blend Fuzzy Navels. Us kids got iced OJ with our omelettes and toast.
‘My heroes have always been cowboys’
Broke the mold.
Glad that before they died they did not “spit on their whole life”! And Monte Walsh vowed he’d not “spit on his, either”. Hope we don’t! May we sing “till we die”.
Dad