THE WEST MEETS EAST TALKIN’ MISERY BLUES

By Charles Deemer

 

 

I’ve always been one to ramble around

Always had my ups and downs

Thought I’d seen everything before

Til I heard about Maryland’s Eastern Shore

And I’d never been to no Eastern Shore … never heard of no Eastern Shore … I couldn’t find it on the map

 

But the Eastern Shore, so I headed east

To see if I could capture that beast

I was in Kentucky in a grocery store

And asked, “Who knows the way to the Eastern Shore?”

            Was this older feller there … gray-haired, wearing a goatee, sporting a vest, munching on a chicken leg … kinda looked like a colonel … he said, “East what? This here is bluegrass country, boy. Maybe you’d better mosey on.” Which I did.

 

West Virginia was up ahead

And I pulled over to get a bed

But before I went and closed my motel door

I asked the lady there about the Eastern Shore

            And she didn’t say nothing for the longest time … Sorta looking at me dead-eye … when she finally spoke up, she said, “Don’t sleep too soundly, if you from the Revenue.”

 

I was going through the land of William Penn

One of them places I’d already been

I’m going along when I get the notion

By the end of the day I’ll be in the ocean

            And I can’t swim … time to ask directions again … was this feller come by in a horse and buggy, wearing a big ol’ stove pipe hat, long black beard … he was clutching a bible … I said, “Pardon me, Abe! Can you show me the way to the Eastern Shore?” … He just pointed straight up at the sky … pointed straight down at the ground … Said, “There are only two directions.”

 

Seemed to me there was more than that

And I took off as he tipped his hat

Just kept on going, didn’t know where

And I ended up in Delaware

            Got me a room … showered, shaved … put on my New Jersey, and found a bar

 

This Eastern Shore was like a hickory nut

Pretty tough to crack – but

A little whiskey’s a mighty big rock

It can smash the toughest lock

            I filled me up with whiskey …called the bartender over, figuring to ask him directions … before I spoke up, he spoke up, said, “Boy, you sure do drink a lot. How do you feel?” … Truth was, I’d had one too many cause when I replied it didn’t come out in my usual western accent, it came out sounding like … “Oh, I feel all roit.”

 

Then a guy at the bar about grabbed me

Slapping my back, wouldn’t let me be

You’d think I was his long-lost pal

Or, worse, his up and coming gal

            I started worrying about his preferences … but he didn’t make no move … he just kept saying, “Noice to see ya, noice to see ya!”

 

It took a while but I broke free

Tried to leave that place, he was following me

He said, “What you going and leaving for?”

I said, “I gotta find the Eastern Shore.”

            Damned if he didn’t look like we was going to look together … his car was parked out behind mine … He said, “Listen,  we’ll stop on the way for some soft crabs.”

 

I’ve had the crabs but never soft

In Germany they won’t come off

G.I. powder just makes ‘em gay

And the only way to get ‘em is this-a-way

            You get yourself a razor … shave a path down the middle of your pubic hair … soak one side with kerosene … put a match to it … when all them critters run to the other side, you stab each one of ‘em dead with an ice pick

 

Well, he’s in his car, I’m in mine

Traveling fast, he’s coming behind

I kept on going rather in a hurry

When I come to a town called Sail-is-bury

            Pulled over to the side of the road, figuring to ask that feller why he’s following me so close … ‘fore I spoke up, he spoke up, said … “How about that! I’m from Saul’s-berry myself!”

 

There was a bar across the street

Figured it was time to get something to eat

I went along, he made it two

I didn’t know just what to do

            But hop on a bar stool, which I did … stared straight ahead … there on the wall was a big ol’ sign … and damned if that sign didn’t say, “Welcome to the Eastern Shore!”

 

He ordered a sandwich, I said the same

And I was about to ask him his name

But before I did, the food come by

And I couldn’t hardly believe my eyes

            I mean, this sandwich, it was nothing but two pieces of bread wrapped about this crab … I mean, it had the shells on and everything … all these claws was sticking out every which-a-way … and one of my claws was moving

 

But that feller took a big ol’ munch

Them crab shells made an awful crunch

Turned my stomach, face turned blue

This Eastern Shore’s a cannibal zoo

            To eat live crabs … raw oysters … bet they eat jelly fish

 

“What’s your trade?” the feller asked then

With crab shells all over his chin

And the truth was I was writing a book

But before replying took a second look

            Cause people don’t like to hear you’re writing a book … they get jealous of all your free time … six digit movie rights … spot appearances on Johnny Carson … besides, everybody knows, all writers are spies

 

“What’s your trade?” a second time

And I really hadn’t made up my mind

But about then the jukebox come on

And it must have been that or sheer inspiration

            Cause right out of nowhere I told him I was a musician … (guitar: a little Ode to Joy solo) … unemployed

 

Well, to make a long story brief

I ordered a sandwich filled with beef

I was beginning to feel a little fatigued

When the feller asked if I liked antiques

            Said he was a dealer … he’d give me a good deal … on something Colonel

 

Now what he had in mind was a chair

I said, “Look, man, I’ve been everywhere.

I don’t plan to sit. I plan to leave.”

He said, “But this chair’s 17th century!”

            I had to laugh … what kind of a fool did he think I was?, buy a chair that old … I didn’t need no chair but the day I did, I wouldn’t buy some old chair, I’d buy me a new chair … I’d go to Sears and Roebuck

 

He said, “Listen, you just don’t understand

The older it gets, the more price it commands.”

So I told him about this old gal back west,

She commanded fifty cents at best

            That’s after she bought the whiskey … cooked a hot meal … introduced you to her granddaughter

 

I told him that, he just made a face

Said, “This chair’s broke in the original place!”

I said, “I just don’t get the joke.

You’re trying to sell me an old chair that’s broke?”

            He said, “But this chair was broke 200 years ago!” … I told him we had some slow moving hombres back west … but I do believe we’d a had her fixed by now

 

Our minds never did get together

I left that place to find different weather

The wind had come up and it knocked me down

Rolled me all across the ground

            Took three guys to pick me up … one of them stuck a finger in the air … Said, “Feels loik we got a little breeze comin’ off the Chesapeake tonoit.”

 

I got in my car and I turned her west

Back to the land I love the best

Back to where the chairs are new

We got Rocky Mountain oysters, too

            We got ten thousand foot ant hills … white water rapids … snow-capped mountains … we got them wide open spaces

 

But now I’ve seen everything there is

That Eastern Shore ended the list

That leaves only the grave to autograph

You can make this here my epitaph

            It takes a cat to go to a garden … takes a dog to go to a tree … takes a seagull, flying o’er the Eastern Shore, to go to the likes of me

 

/end