COWBOY RHYMES: BISCUITS 'N GRAVY

"Biscuits 'N Gravy on Wyoming Plains"

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YOU BE DAMNED pt. 4

So, I went to see the judge about getting a divorce

He had me fill out all the paperwork, of course

Then he read through my statement very carefully

When he got to the part about the battered eyes, he laughed wholeheartedly.

"So you want to seperate from your wife of 29 years," said he to me

"No sir," I answered, "I'd just like to have some respect and peace".

Battery and mental abuse were the grounds I listed

But he didn't believe a little woman, five foot two, could get me bested.

Then he asked if we'd been to reconcilliation sessions

I indicated in the affirmative with negative impressions

The judge granted my request but restrained me from going back out west

Then, to make sure I understood, he asked me to repeat where I wasn't allowed be a guest.

I hemmed and hawed and shuffled back and forth, knowing this would get me in a jam

Until his gavel came down hard at the same time I blurted out, "You Be Damned."

The gavel hit so hard it broke in two and the hammer head took to flight

The handle stayed in the judge's hand but the head hit me in the eye.

...

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IT AIN'T THE SAME WHERE I COME FROM

Where I come from, a pit is a hole in the ground,

But in some places it's anywhere you grill your food.

Now that's another word that seems to get around.

In some locales, "grill" is a dish and elsewhere it's a restaurant with a mood.

In Texas, Bar-B-Que is what you eat.

In Arizona it's their outdoor kitchen,

Just in case they need a little extra heat.

But in Kansas City, Bar-B-Que is a religion.

In Memphis you get Elvis and a whole lotta shakin' paprika.

Rock and Roll Bar-B-Que is the rule of thumb.

But you'll never catch that stuff on the table in Topeka.

Or in Kansas City where I'm gonna get me some.

Vinegar is the secret if you're going to Carolina.

In my mind, it's the wrong song.

But I hear they're smokin' Oakies in Regina.

Now if I was Chuck Barris, I'd surely bang the gong.

Cowboy Kent Rollins likes to do it to it on the back of a wagon,

On the grill, wood-fired stove or in a Dutch oven.

You can bet whatever he cooks up, he'll be braggin'.

With a tune and a jig, he'll feed a couple of dozen.

Steven Raichlen likes to grill primal with beef on the hoof.

Lessons shared on PBS TV from the BBQ U,

With taste-tested recipes that are foolproof

But what he really needs is a Bar-B-Que Buckaroo or two

At some places, its all about the meat and dump the sauce.

But others kill to be king of the condiment.

It's all about the secret formula from the pit boss,

And the arena he's from that makes it predominant

Now, smokin' meat and grillin' are not the same,

But, either way, the taste is something spectacular.

You have to learn a second language to get into the competition game

You'll lose points from using the wrong vernacular.

Tailgating is a special term you need to know,

But if you misunderstand and get arrested,

We'll all know you'll not be the one to crow,

When your championship title is contested.

The type of grill or smoker you use can vary.

Some are highbrow egg-shaped spaceships.

Some you pull on wheels and some you have to carry.

Preferences run amok between square, round and ellipse.

No, it ain't the same where I come from

And it's hard to sell your brand to someone else,

Especially if they like to bang a different drum.

Like trying to sell suspenders to a man with a thousand belts.

But one thing remains universal the world over.

It's done the same way everywhere apparently.

From Canadian Mounties to Australian drovers,

It's something that is just known inherently.

Two used horseshoes welded together,

Heel to heel, bridged across two rocks.

A runnin' iron for a poker and gloves of leather,

And you've got a cowboy Bar-B-Que out in the boondocks.

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ODE TO THE DUTCH OVEN

Bisquits and gravy on a cold, frosty morn

A cup of hot coffee held by tremblin' hands

Sun just comin' awake on the Little Bighorn

Dutch oven cookin', there is no other way

It was good enough for grandad

It's how he began each and every day

Cast iron sittin' just above the flame

The aroma of beef and beans

Nothing else will ever be the same

Chili verde or sweet apple cobbler

Bacon-wrapped chicken or sourdough bread

Everything's better, including the dish water

It's better than aluminum for rendering fat

And lasts longer than glass or Tupperware

It'll even stop the space lasers if you wear it for a hat

The original non-stick if you treat it right

Good for washing out socks when the meal's all et

And darn near bullet proof on a rowdy Saturday night

Dutch oven cookin' just can't be beat

Not by microwaves, nor propane

Or even by the sun's burning heat

Yessiree Buster, cast iron is the only way to go

Git you a good old cowboy-approved Dutch oven

Set up camp and git ready to do-si-do

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BACON, BACON

When I was young and in my prime,

I could eat a pound of bacon anytime

But now that I'm older and wiser

I'm a two-pound bacon miser

Bacon is the thing I like the most

With eggs, or waffles or just on toast

Gimmie bacon morning, noon and night

Gimmie bacon, make me feel alright

Smoke it, fry it, smell that sweet bouquet

Slice it, chop it, wrap it 'round a filet

Gimmie bacon and nothing else

Gimmie bacon and larger belts

Use the grease to keep away the rust

Make ammunition from it if you must

Add it to your kitty's diet

No more hairballs, go ahead, try it

Bacon in the pan, campfire glowing

Cowpokes gathered round, hunger growing

Coffee in the pot, aromas mingling sweetly

Morning, noon or night, bacon rounds it out completely

BLTs PDQ ASAP if you please

Or on a muffin with egg and cheese

Save the sizzle when you deglaze the pan

Potlickers giggle as they lick your hand

Apple, hickory and maple are all just fine

Make it plain if you haven't got the time

Makin' bacon is a labor of love

But eatin' bacon is far above

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ROLL-UPS

As youngin's growin' up, we didn't know they had a fancy name
And it didn't matter none 'cause eatin' 'em was always the same
Mom would fry 'em up in the cast iron skillets, three at a time
So each of us could get a hot one without standin' in line

Roll-ups is what we called 'em to distinguish 'em from flapjacks and more
German pancakes, they were, learned from her mom and her's before
Tradition handed down from one to the next and always eaten with glee
Down to the last crum and every drop of jam from the fruit tree

We'd top 'em off with butter and maple syrup or jam
Then roll 'em up like a burrito as best we can
Soon as you're done with the first, there's another one, hot
I can taste 'em now, right here, on the spot

I was in college when I discovered The International House of Pancakes
Now, they had something on their menu they called "French crepes"
They looked and tasted the same as the German roll-ups I always ate
Well, I can't satisfy myself with just one or two, so I had eight

Then, not long after that, I was spendin' the night at Kurt's place
His mom said she'd feed us breakfast if we'd find some table space
"I'll bet you've never had Swedish pancakes," she inquired
"I think you'll like 'em, but you don't have to eat 'em if they're undesired"

Well, what would you know, but down on the plate plopped two Roll-ups
Just like I'd known years ago when Mom made 'em to cajole us
German, French or Swedish, who can say who really owns the name?
Seems those Europeans were rustlin' a lot more'n their neighbor's stock and game

© 2025 Brian McNeal

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GRAN'S CINNAMON ROLLS

Well there are some who can be satisfied with just the name

And then there are some who need 'em more wild and less tame

That is to say there has to be more cinnamon than just a sprinkle

And then there needs to be enough brown sugar to give your tongue a tingle

Now, my dad had known only one kind. He called 'em "Mom's," we called 'em "Gran's"

She always put in a little bit more'n what you'd expect so it'd drip off the pans

Store-boughts or from some neighbor's kitchen brought down to the church bazaar

Never had the goods like nuts and raisins to lock in to my cinnamon radar

Hot from the oven with the aroma whisping through the kitchen air

Senses drool while tastebuds prepare

It's hard to wait for them to cool enough to eat

Anticipation is a devil, hard to beat

Layers of dough and fixin's rolled up in a cinnamon riddle

Cinnamon and brown sugar candy oozing out the middle

Nuts, raisins, apple chunks or all of the above

Eating the outside first is the price paid to enjoy the love

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THINGS THEY WILL NEVER KNOW

When the "Kodak Moment" happened just as the film ran out
How to make a "long distance call" instead of a shout
Dimming your headlights with the toe of your left foot
Or how to turn real pages in a good book.

Cleaning the chimney and filling the lamp with oil
Waiting longer than a minute for the water to boil.
Making a change for the good without mayhem
Or just making change without a computer to help 'em

What a sock-hop is and a ten cent flick
When "on demand" meant: "do it quick"
How to share music in a listening booth
Or the difference between real and fake truth.

When a cloud stored only rainwater
Why it's good to have an alma mater
What the "rewind" button actually does
And to do what Mama said, just because.

Telling time without a digital clock
Getting excited about going to the cakewalk
What the letters V-C-R actually stand for
Or why it's important to always close the barn door.

When a doctor had the only belt that would beep
How to talk without using text-speak
Holes on the sides of the paper for the tractor feed
Or how to find a job without INDEED.

How to do research without asking Google
The serenity of "Taps" when played on a real bugle
Using all ten fingers on the typewriter keys
Or how much more they can get with the word "please."

What someone means when they need pen and paper
What happens when a plane flies into a skyscraper
Cosmic rays are not something they invented
And coffee is already scented

There is no such thing as artificial intelligence
That politeness and courtesy should take precedence
Just why they should prepare a checklist
Or that real and tangible stupidity does exist

Why people needed carbon paper for their typewriters
That they didn't originate the name "Foo Fighters"
The original meaning of the word "Geek"
Or why it's wise to think before you misspeak

What is meant by the term "Broken Record"
Or why it's necessary to go back to the drawing board
That some things still take a long time to finish
Or why hurrying will cause the quality to diminish

How to write in cursive
Why a song has verses
That a man can never be a female
Or that knowledge requires one to travail

The list goes on and on and will never end
Time changes, and technology will always transcend
The shear amount of what they don't know amazes me
But I don't know why they frown on learning history.

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