BULL RIDIN' AIN'T EASY.......... by Hal Swift

 

 

 


It
was just afternoon, we'd finished our lunch,
and we all were agreeably full.
I was standin' around, tellin' some a the boys
how to go about ridin' a bull.

Then a stranger, he asks, "Any bull riders here?"
And the fellas all pointed to me.
Well I laughed right out loud, bein' kidded like that.
But the stranger says, "Well, Glory be!

"Now here I been lookin' for a cowboy 'round here,
to come fill in for one of my men.
He done broke both his knees when he fell off a horse,
and I need someone bad to fill in."

Well I staggered a bit at the thought of such pain,
an' I started to say, Well I think...
when ol' Jimmy jumps up and says, "This is your man!"
And he nodded and give me a wink.

"Yeah, this here old cowpoke was just tellin' us
what it takes to go ridin' a bull.
How you just gotta plan, when y'talk to the man,
to see which of the critters you pull."

I says, "Yessir I did, but I didn't mean me.
I was sayin' what others should do.
Why there's no way on earth I'd git up on a bull,
because I am a coward clean through."

The stranger walks over, and looks in my face,
saya, "Eight seconds is all that it takes.
If y'stay on that long, thirty dollars is yours.
Stay on longer and I'll raise the stakes."

Now I gotta tell you, it was startin' to sound
like a job that I really could do.
I says, "You're going to pay thirty dollars for eight?
And how much if I add on a few?"

The stranger says, "Well son I believe in your case,
I'll make it ten dollars a second."
"You've convinced me," I said. "I'm the man that you want.
I've never hung back when fame beckoned."

I'll tell you this, now the ride is all done,
I've never known such a feelin'.
That thirty he mentioned for stayin' on eight?
Has taught me some things about dealin'.

I stayed on fer seven, got dumped in the sand,
and I paid for what I'd tried to pull.
And you sure won't hear me tell anyone else
how t'go about ridin' a bull.
Hal SwiftŠ
All rights reserved.
 

 

 



                                              About Hal Swift: 

Hal Swift came into this world in Speedway City, Indiana.  It was a week before Christmas, 1928--the 25th anniversary of Orville and Wilbur Wright's history-making flight at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina.  He was born Ralph Harmon Swift, but got the name Hal while working as a disc jockey at a radio station in Monterey, California in the early 1960s.  His boss didn't like the double "uff" in Ralph and Swift, so Hal held a contest with his listeners. There were over 200 entries--and the one who came in with the winning name went home with an unopened copy of  a long-play record album by Peter, Paul and Mary--taken, of course, from the station's library.

He had most of the childhood diseases available in 1935, right after he started the first grade.  Indiana didn't have kindergarten at that time. Because he was sick for so long, he had to start school all over again, and by the age of twelve was taller that most of his teachers--well, the lady ones, anyway.  He was a lieutenant in the school's traffic patrol, and played trumpet in the school band.  After two years in high school, his family moved to Phoenix, Arizona, where he took up string bass and became one of the country's youngest members of the American Federation of Musicians.  As such, he was privileged toPhoto of Hal Swift. work with many great musicians, including jazz guitarist, Howard Roberts, jazz pianist, Pete Jolly, and singer, entertainer, Marty Robbins.  At the time, though, Marty was still Martin Robinson.

In 1947, while in North Phoenix High school, Hal (still Ralph) got into broadcasting when a studio band he was playing with needed an announcer. He joined the U.S. Navy in 1948 and served as a shipboard Morse code radio operator while a member of the Japan occupation forces, and then during the Korean War.  After his honorable discharge in 1952 he went back into broadcasting and worked in stations from Mount Shasta to Monterey, California, then in Reno, Nevada. He worked in various areas of broadcasting, from the original disc jockey stuff, to being a reporter and news editor, a commercial writer and salesman, and a broadcast engineer.

When all of this excitin' stuff paled in 1977, he decided he'd become a minister, and do something really worthwhile in this world.  By January of 1991 he found he'd much rather be doin' the excitin' stuff, and went back into radio--and writing.  His writing interests turned to things Western, probably, he says, because by now--in addition to his home state--he'd lived in Arizona, Texas, California, Colorado, and Nevada.

As a youngster, going through all those childhood diseases, he got to read a lot.  He says, "In late 1933, maybe early 1934--somebody gave me a book titled, 'Demon Dick and Bunker Bill.'  It was based not-too-loosely on the song, 'Big Rock Candy Mountain.'  Do you remember that?" he says.  "Where the bluebird sings, by the lemonade springs, in the big rock caaan-dy mountain."  He says, "I don't recall the story line now, but I do recall I enjoyed the book a whole lot.  It was about five inches tall, maybe 17 inches wide, and about a quarter-inch thick.  The cover was cardboard, and the pages were similar to newsprint, only rougher, I believe.  The whole thing was done in rhyme, and was illustrated, like a comic book. I know the cover was in color, front and back, but I don't remember if the story page cartoons were in color.  Those pictures and rhythms are still in my head somewhere.   I kept the book for years.  I don't know where it is now--I think I gave it to one of our sons.  I'll have to ask.

"Around 1936-37 my mom took my little sister and me and moved to Phoenix, Arizona where we hoped my sister would be cured of asthma.  We only stayed a year, but we moved back to Phoenix in 1945.   My wife, Carol and I lived in Yuma, Arizona from 1982 to 1986.  So, I've lived in Arizona three times now. That first move, though, exposed me to some real, live cowboys--as well as a few real cowboy musicians--and just added to the interest Demon Dick and Bunker Bill had kindled in me."

Although he says he rode a little with some real cowboys, he never worked at it.   "I was never a cowboy wannabe," he says, "more of a cowboy could-a-been.  I had plenty chances, but I managed mostly to avoid 'em.  I decided not to let not working as a cowboy keep me from enjoying writing about them, though. He said he didn't know exactly how to respond when a radio friend named Bob Carroll asked him in an interview if he'd ever worked at being a cowboy.  He said, "Bob made it all right that I hadn't when he said, 'Arthur C. Clarke writes pretty good space stuff, and he never worked as an astronaut.' That Bob's okay."

His book, Cowboy Poems and Outright Lies is being offered on line at Silver Creek Music and Books.  (More about that below.)

He has an unpublished novel, Ballad of a Small Town, about 1864 Drytown, Utah Territory -- now Wadsworth, Nevada -- during the final year of the Civil War.  "The town was important," he says, "mainly because it was on the way to someplace else.  But it was, and still is, an interesting town."

With his wife, Carol, Swift currently lives in Sparks, Nevada, not too far from Drytown.  All three of their sons also live in Nevada.  They're honored in Cowboy Poems and Outright Lies in a poem titled, Them Boys of Ours. Hal loves the West and is currently enjoying reading, and writing, about it.

You can read  more about Hal Swift and you will find a large collection of his poetry at: http://www.cowboypoetry.com/halswift.htm

AND IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT...DON'T MISS HAL'S POEM..... "RODEO PARADE". A click of the mouse will take you there.

                      Your comments are invited. ........................  nevada.swift@yahoo.com

No material on this webpage may be excerpted, copied, reproduced, used or performed in any form (graphic, electronic or mechanical), for any purpose without the express written permission of the author or artist of the desired work.


                                                                                             
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