Uncle was at his office in the little Spanish bungalow on Wilshire Boulevard early the next morning. His plate was indeed full, and he was buzzing with focused intensity as he prioritized his day while lying on the floor with his head nestled into his meditation cushion. Lately he’d been having lower back pain, and he had to save the lotus position for maximum effect in face-to-face meetings. He pushed “play” on the remote, and a crude drumbeat accompanied by a spaghetti western guitar came out of the giant quad speakers. Uncle was sipping an espresso when the vocal kicked in, and he practically gagged with laughter at the sound of Danny Cocktail’s speak-sing delivery, his voice back in his throat with a canyon of reverb on it.
“There’s a fella stands tall on his board
Swims with the surfers and walks with the Lord
Rides the waves like a rodeo champ
Toes on the nose don’t get his boots damp
He’s a cowboy dude
Don’t give him no ’tude
He’s a cowboy dude
Wetsuit and Stetson a bible and a tan
He’s a cowboy dude a wild west coast man.…”
Uncle had been holding back his laughter so that he could hear the words, but now he was almost crying at the hilarity and incongruity of it all. He was picturing Danny forcing his voice deeper, delivering this stuff seriously, with the background singer, who Uncle guessed would be Danny’s long-suffering girlfriend Gwen, adding “whoas” and “cools” during the chorus. At this moment Uncle’s secretary and office manager, Felicia Kane, known to all as Candy, came in and walked over to where Uncle was lying on the floor. In a facial tissue-sized skirt, she stood over him with a pile of papers and a raspberry Danish on a plate. “You’re in early this morning. Who was that?”
“You mean the song?” Uncle was still grinning at the lyrics.
“Yeah, it was cool. Surf country, what a concept.”
She put the Danish on the floor beside Uncle (while he looked up her skirt), dropped the papers on his desk and was about to leave when he replied, “Danny, from The Cocktails. You dug it, huh? Hey, do we know any real live country singers? What about the guy who covered Roc’s ‘Untangle You’ a few years ago?” Candy furrowed her brow, not remembering. “You know, the calf roping video?”
Candy nodded. “Right. Randy Rawhide and the Haywires. I think his career tanked and he went Celtic.”
Uncle had a sudden thought. “Hey, Candy, did you see that hayseed hanging out front when you drove in? A real shitkicker in jeans and a checked shirt?”
“Hard to miss. He’s been lurking for the last two days; right now he’s chatting up two teenage Cocktails fans from Idaho who are showing him their autograph books. Why?”
“Just a crazy thought. See if he’s still out there and ask him if he wants to come in for a soda or something, and then I’m going to casually pass through the lobby and listen to him talk.”
Delray Jackson couldn’t believe his luck when Candy invited him in for a cold drink. “Well, thank you ma’am. It’s hotter than Madonna’s panties out there. Say, do you know her?” Candy handed the zit sisters some scribbles on a piece of paper, bringing on a major case of the vapors. “I’d take a Lone Star, a forty if you got one, but hell, anything cold to wet my whistle right about now. Delray Jackson at your service.”
Candy grinned slyly at Uncle over Delray’s shoulder as she handed him a Corona in a can. “Mmm-mmm.” He drained his beer and looked hopefully in the direction of the fridge. “Madge’s gettin’ up there, but I wouldn’t kick her outta bed for eatin’ crackers.”
“Uncle Strange,” said Uncle, crossing the lobby and offering his hand to Delray. “Come into my office, I want you to hear something. Candy, would you send out for a case of Lone Star?”
A quarter of an hour later, Candy called over the intercom, “Roc on two, can you take it?” Uncle excused himself to head into an adjacent office, leaving Delray to practice the lyrics to “Cowboy Dude.” Delray made sure Uncle was out of the room before leaning over the desk and flipping through Uncle’s Rolodex. He wrote a number and an address on his hand and sat back down, amazed and gratified at how the Lord takes care of his own.