Strap them kids in, give ’em a lil bit of vodkaIn a cherry Coke, we’re goin to OklahomaTo the family reunion for the first time in yearsIt’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 vodkaIn a cherry Coke, we’re goin to OklahomaTo the family reunion for the first time in yearsIt’s up at Uncle Slaton’s ’cause he’s getting on in yearsYou know he no longer travels but he’s still pretty spryHe’s not much on talk and he’s just too mean to dieAnd they’ll be comin’ down from Kansas and West ArkansasIt’ll be one great big old party like you’ve never saw
Uncle Slaton’s got his Texan prideBack in the thickets with his Asian brideHe’s got an airstream trailer and a Holstein cowStill makes whiskey, ’cause he still knows howHe plays that Choctaw Bingo every Friday nightYou know he had to leave Texas but he won’t say whyHe owns a quarter section up by Lake EufaulaCaught a great big ol’ Bluecat on a driftin’ juglineSells his hardwood timber to the chippin’ millCooks that crystal meth because his shine don’t sellHe cooks that crystal meth because his ‘shine don’t sellYou know he likes that money, he don’t mind the smell
My cousin Roscoe, Slaton’s oldest boyFrom his second marriage up in IllinoisHe’s raised in east St. Louis by his mamma’s peopleWhere they do things different, thought he’d just come on downHe’s goin’ to Dallas, Texas in a semi truckCaught from that big McDonald’sYou know that one that’s built up on thatGreat big old bridge across the Will Rogers turnpikeTook the big cabin exit, stopped and bought a carton of cigarettesAt that Indian smoke shop with the big neon smoke ringsIn the Cherokee nation, hit Muskogee late that nightSomebody ran the stoplight at the Shawnee BypassRoscoe tried to miss ’em but he didn’t quite
Bob and Mae come up fromSome little town way down byLake Texoma, where he coaches footballThey were two-A champions for two years runningBut he says they won’t be this yearNo, they won’t be this yearAnd he stopped off in Tushka at the pop knife and gun placeBought a SKS rifle and a couple full cases of that steel core ammoWith the Berdan primers from some East bloc nationThat no longer needs ’emAnd a Desert Eagle, that’s one great big old pistolI mean, fifty caliber made by bad-ass HebrewsAnd some surplus tracers for that old BAROf Slaton’s as soon as it gets dark, we’re gonna have us a timeWe’re gonna have us a time
Ruth-Anne and Lynn come from Baxter SpringsThat’s one hell-raisin’ townWay up in Southeastern KansasGot a biker bar next to the lingerie storeThat’s got the Rollin’ Stones’ lipsUp there in bright pink neonAnd they’re right downtown where everyone can see ’emAnd they burn all nightYou know they burn all nightYou know they burn all night
Ruth-Anne and Lynn, they wear them cut-off britchesAnd then skinny little halters and they’re second cousins to meMan, I dont care, I want to get between themWith a great big ‘ol hard-onLike an ol’ Bodark fencepostThat you can hang a pipe rail gate fromDo some sister twisters till the cows come homeAnd we’ll be having us a time
Uncle Slaton’s got his Texan prideBack in the thickets with his Asian brideHe’s cut that corner pasture into acre lotsHe sells ’em owner financed strictly to themIt’s got no kind of credit ’cause he knows they’re slackersAnd they’ll miss that payment and then he takes it backHe plays that Choctaw Bingo every Friday nightAnd drinks his Johnny Walker at that club 69
We’re gonna strap them kids in, and give ’em a lil’ bitty bitIn a cherry Coke, we’re goin to OklahomaGonna have us a timeGonna have us a time
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