whippersnappers
kleinbl00 thank you so much, I would have forgotten all about this song and it reminds me of my grandfather who was very much into westerns and that weird idealized "wild west". It also makes me miss the story telling in some songs, are there even bands that still do that? I guess there were some rock ballads in the 80s, but it seems like most bands today use more of a poetic motif rather than a narrative. And because I wikipedia'd it:
"For his TV special Comedy is Not Pretty, Steve Martin created a music video for the song, in which he plays the cowboy. The rest of the cast are chimpanzees and an orangutan. Martin's first "horse" is a miniature pony; he later rides an elephant to escape the posse." It looks like the special is available on google plus. I'll definitely have to get this. Do you have any specific memories of this song you can share?
We had it on tape. It was one of three tapes we took to Mexico. 1983. I was in 4th grade. My sister was in kindergarten. We left the day after Christmas and came back a week before Valentine's Day. Family of four, cruising the back roads of Mexico in a beat-to-shit, five-different-colors Saab 96: We were up in the mountains and my mom thought I should have "real" Mexican hot chocolate. Which was Swiss Miss with hot tap water. So all that incessant teeth-brushing with Perrier? All for naught as I had a thermonuclear case of the liquishits. I'd venture forth in the town for 10 minutes at a time then retreat to the hotel to poop. In the process I bought a carved onyx chess set for 1 mil peso - $6 at the exchange rate of the day (think they've lopped three zeroes off the peso twice since then). The next day we drove to a town that claimed to be Topo-el-Bampo on the map. Google doesn't think it exists anymore. It probably doesn't. We had to drive to the beach, then head south for half an hour. There were no roads. We got out and played on the beach; there were clam shells as thin as crackers made almost entirely of mother-of-pearl. Some of them were two feet across. The beach was riddled with clam holes that gophers could live in. On the way back the radio was playing "El Paso."