Category: Singles

Strap them kids in, give ’em a lil bit of vodka
In a cherry Coke, we’re goin to Oklahoma
To the family reunion for the first time in years
It’s up at Uncle Slaton’s ’cause he’s getting on in years

I ran across McMurty’s name when I wrote up a post about a temporary band that John Mellencamp put together called The Buzzin’ Cousins. I listened to Sweet Suzanne by them and YouTube recommended a member named James McMurtry. I listened to this song and liked it right away. It has some great writing with a big dose of Americana. It’s not a long folk song…it has some kick to it. His other music is well written as well.

McMurtry is another Texas songwriter who I admire. He was born in Fort Worth Texas in 1962. He is the son of the famous novelist and screenwriter Larry McMurtry, known for works like “Lonesome Dove,” and Jo Scott McMurtry, an English professor and writer. Growing up in a literary family, McMurtry was exposed to storytelling from a young age.

He began playing guitar at seven years old. His early exposure to literature and music heavily influenced his later work as a songwriter. McMurtry has released 13 albums over the years, each contributing to his reputation as a keen observer of America.

James released his first album, Too Long in the Wasteland, in 1989. It was produced by none other than John Mellencamp. His debut album showed everyone just how good he was at writing songs that feel like mini-movies.

When he sings this song live he sometimes says it’s about “the North Texas-Southern Oklahoma crystal methamphetamine industry.” Choctaw Bingo was released in 2002 on his Saint Mary of the Woods album.

Ray Wylie Hubbard covered the song as well.

Choctaw Bingo

Strap them kids in, give ’em a lil bit of vodka
In a cherry Coke, we’re goin to Oklahoma
To the family reunion for the first time in years
It’s up at Uncle Slaton’s ’cause he’s getting on in years
You know he no longer travels but he’s still pretty spry
He’s not much on talk and he’s just too mean to die
And they’ll be comin’ down from Kansas and West Arkansas
It’ll be one great big old party like you’ve never saw

Uncle Slaton’s got his Texan pride
Back in the thickets with his Asian bride
He’s got an airstream trailer and a Holstein cow
Still makes whiskey, ’cause he still knows how
He plays that Choctaw Bingo every Friday night
You know he had to leave Texas but he won’t say why
He owns a quarter section up by Lake Eufaula
Caught a great big ol’ Bluecat on a driftin’ jugline
Sells his hardwood timber to the chippin’ mill
Cooks that crystal meth because his shine don’t sell
He cooks that crystal meth because his ‘shine don’t sell
You know he likes that money, he don’t mind the smell

My cousin Roscoe, Slaton’s oldest boy
From his second marriage up in Illinois
He’s raised in east St. Louis by his mamma’s people
Where they do things different, thought he’d just come on down
He’s goin’ to Dallas, Texas in a semi truck
Caught from that big McDonald’s
You know that one that’s built up on that
Great big old bridge across the Will Rogers turnpike
Took the big cabin exit, stopped and bought a carton of cigarettes
At that Indian smoke shop with the big neon smoke rings
In the Cherokee nation, hit Muskogee late that night
Somebody ran the stoplight at the Shawnee Bypass
Roscoe tried to miss ’em but he didn’t quite

Bob and Mae come up from
Some little town way down by
Lake Texoma, where he coaches football
They were two-A champions for two years running
But he says they won’t be this year
No, they won’t be this year
And he stopped off in Tushka at the pop knife and gun place
Bought a SKS rifle and a couple full cases of that steel core ammo
With the Berdan primers from some East bloc nation
That no longer needs ’em
And a Desert Eagle, that’s one great big old pistol
I mean, fifty caliber made by bad-ass Hebrews
And some surplus tracers for that old BAR
Of Slaton’s as soon as it gets dark, we’re gonna have us a time
We’re gonna have us a time

Ruth-Anne and Lynn come from Baxter Springs
That’s one hell-raisin’ town
Way up in Southeastern Kansas
Got a biker bar next to the lingerie store
That’s got the Rollin’ Stones’ lips
Up there in bright pink neon
And they’re right downtown where everyone can see ’em
And they burn all night
You know they burn all night
You know they burn all night

Ruth-Anne and Lynn, they wear them cut-off britches
And then skinny little halters and they’re second cousins to me
Man, I dont care, I want to get between them
With a great big ‘ol hard-on
Like an ol’ Bodark fencepost
That you can hang a pipe rail gate from
Do some sister twisters till the cows come home
And we’ll be having us a time

Uncle Slaton’s got his Texan pride
Back in the thickets with his Asian bride
He’s cut that corner pasture into acre lots
He sells ’em owner financed strictly to them
It’s got no kind of credit ’cause he knows they’re slackers
And they’ll miss that payment and then he takes it back
He plays that Choctaw Bingo every Friday night
And drinks his Johnny Walker at that club 69

We’re gonna strap them kids in, and give ’em a lil’ bitty bit
In a cherry Coke, we’re goin to Oklahoma
Gonna have us a time
Gonna have us a time

….