My Life in a Playlist

Day 14: David Allen Coe - Panheads Forever

This may seem like an odd selection for me, because I'm not a big country music fan. Also, I know what many people think about Coe, and they're right. But, I lived in the south and had a pick 'em up truck, so I've listened to my share. It's probably a good thing I only like the old stuff, though. I was in Las Vegas when some soulless waste of skin murdered 58 people. If I liked the music I'd have probably been there, and I run at problems, not away from them. That might have ended badly for me. But that's a story for another day. One when I can write it without losing my s***.

Besides! It's Valentines Day! I actually freaked out the missus by sending chocolate truffles to her work. I'm not a fan of Hallmark holidays, so I never do it. Or really, very rarely. She told her friends at work, "If he sends me something, I'll think he had a stroke." Surprise! But, for any y'all reading along, here's one of my favorite love songs.



If you'd indulge me, I'll tell you a funny story. A fraternity brother talked me into going to see Coe in a little honkytonk in Arkansas. Well, I had been a big fan of this song for a long time, having been a Panhead owner once myself. So, after a couple of numbers, I yell out, "Play Panheads Forever!" This was a small place, and they heard me. As I drank more beer, I asked several more times, and everyone heard those.

So, fast forward to the end of the concert, and my brother takes us backstage to get an album signed. That's a clue as to the age of this tale. He knew the owner, so we ended up in a room with the band, some roadies, and various folk. A gallon of Jack was being passed around. Once the signature was on the record cover, I kind of stepped up to meet the guy. It went like this.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Coe" Shaking his hand. "I enjoy your music."
"Thank you, always nice to meet people who do."
Then, in what was the dumbest drunk move ever, I add, "So I guess you don't do Panheads in concert.."
His eyes narrowed as he looked at me, and damn, the whole room looked at me,too. "You're the little s*** that yelled at me all night?!"
"Uh, well. Yes." What, like I was going to lie? I assumed an ass kicking was coming. and lying would just make it worse.
"Didn't you figger I wasn't going to play it by the tenth time you yelled it out?"

I had nothing. Then the oddest thing happened. He reached back and pulled out a six-string, strummed a bit, then did the first verse and refrain from the song. Just him and his guitar. I must have looked like a poleaxed cow.

"Well," He says to me, "Are you satisfied?"
"Yes. Yes, sir... that was..."
"Good. I'd never want someone to leave my show un-f***in' satisfied." The roadies were laughing.
"I'm not sure I..."
"Shut up and have a drink." He handed me the jug of Jack Daniels.

I'm not sure I ever went from almost pissing myself in fear to almost pissing myself because of a cool moment like that. Ever. So, that's my Coe story... Darlin'.