Heinsian SKI-BOY-n-WESTERN MUSIC -- 91
Ski-Lift To-Go
Hey, hey, Mr Chair-Tender,
please don't be so slow:
I got time for one more round
and a ski-lift to-go.
The night's ski-runs're empty---
I'm gonna be feelin' low;
So, please, please, Chair-Tender,
I wanna ski-lift to-go.
I been skiin' all day long,
skiin' 'bove the town;
I done spent my whole paycheck
just to get to higher ground.
I don't have enough to pay my rent---
I ain't gonna worry though:
I got time for one more round
and a ski-lift to-go.
-------
Hey, hey, Mr Chair-Tender,
please don't be so slow:
I got time for one more round
and a ski-lift to-go.
The night's ski-runs're empty---
I'm gonna be feelin' low;
So, please, please, Chair-Tender,
I wanna ski-lift to-go.
I been skiin' all day long,
skiin' 'bove the town;
I done spent my whole paycheck
just to get to higher ground.
I don't have enough to pay my rent---
I ain't gonna worry though:
I got time for one more round
and a ski-lift to-go.
One ski-lift to-go.
92 -- MIXIN' MISERY & SKIIN'
With snow being so clean and all compare to dirt, it's an anomaly to see such a thing as dusty skis. Oh, skis might be dusty in the summer and fall out in the garage if you live on a gravel road, but, the minute you stick them in the snow again when the snow flies, they're clean---and any dirty spots in the snow soon get buried deep till the spring thaw.
Just like ranchers, sometimes skiers face severe drought. ---I mean, when there's no hay to put up, there's no hay to put up; and, when there's no snow to pack, there's no snow to pack. In fact, the more the skiers suffer, the more the cattle and ranchers could suffer. In fact, in Gary's book, The PROHIBITION Of SnowBoarding, he attributes the Great Dust Bowl of the 1930s to the lack of any real number good skiers in that era. A nicely depressing 1997 remake of Bob Wills's "Dusty Skies"---
Heinsian SKI-BOY-n-WESTERN MUSIC -- 93
Dusty Skis
Dusty Skis---
I can't ski nothin' in sight;
man, oh, man,
you can't just ride sun-light.
If we can't make hay,
the cattle will stray,
and we'll lose 'em left and right.
'Cause all of the ice
and powder's gone---
to have so much steepness
we can't ski down.
Sand blowin'---
I just can't believe this is fair;
I thought we'd soon
be skiin' somewhere;
But dust storms
played hell
on land and snow as well---
Got to be carvin' somewhere.
Hate to see this whole range so bare---
I've got to be packin' snow
somewhere.
Git along, ski-boys---
we're leavin' our skis in the barn;
I'm ever doubtful as how
we'd take a turn.
The blue skies ain't hailed,
and the wind's blowin' our lost trails
on top of these
Dusty Skis.
No, these ain't tears in my eyes,
just sand from these
Dusty Skis.
94 -- MIXIN' MISERY & SKIIN'
Skiing is an expensive sport which has gotten way out of hand for many years now. Some of the best teachers are those who can't even afford to stay in the business. They scrape by skiing for the ski school: they get a free season pass, and get issued a nice brand-new uniform by the ski school so they can look like a professional, so all they have to supply is their own underwear, hat, and gloves---it's still that way in 2011. Consequently, many of these poor professionals can be singled out by their faded and sometimes even duct-taped ski gloves---one pair may cost a slow-week's pay, so they have to make them last. (Actually, the author here wised up in recent years and stopped buying official ski gloves ever again: a $10 pair of winter ranch work gloves with $5 liners, even in 2011, make better ski gloves than a $75 pair from the early '90s, much to the dismay of the ski shops who want instructors to play the game and milk the customers.) This scenario in the song may not be exactly how it happens, but it's not too far-fetched that a seasoned ski instructor could be let go by an elitist ski school for his unprofessional-looking faded gloves. In fact, in recent years, this scenario is a bit less likely because of the increasing economic discrimination that's plagued the ski industry---most of today's ski instructors are the ones who can "afford" the low pay. The Powers-That-Ski basically want to send a subliminal message: "If you're not rich to begin with, we don't want you here," no matter how good a teacher you are; but duct-taped gloves were extremely common among ski instructors all through the 1980s. A 1996 rewrite of the Bob Wills classic, "Faded Love":
Heinsian SKI-BOY-n-WESTERN MUSIC -- 95
Faded
Gloves
As I look at the chair-lift
that you rode with me,
It's your skiing . . .
that I am thinking of;
We skied the lines . . .
that to you were so steep---
And I wore my faded gloves.
I miss teachin' skiin'
more and more everyday,
As powder would miss the skiers above;
With every snow-flake,
I still think of you---
And remember my faded gloves.
As I think of the past,
and all the lessons we had,
As I helped the students learn to carve,
It was in the spring-time
when-the-Roamin' Ski School set me free
Because of my faded gloves.
I miss teachin' skiin'
more and more everyday,
As powder would miss the skiers above;
With every snow-flake,
I still think of you---
And remember my faded gloves,
And remember my faded gloves.
96 -- MIXIN' MISERY & SKIIN'
As much as any other business, teaching skiing is tough business. The politics and pecking orders of our socio-economic system keep many of the best ski teachers treated more like the usual ski-bums than ski professionals. The dedicated teachers hang in there as long as they can, trying to see the positive side of things in the constant hope that things might get better, as though looking through John Conlee's "Rose-Colored Glasses." The challenge, the di-lemma, is to be true to your students . . . and yourself at the same time---it's not easy lifting your goggles off and giving great lessons at the same time, as the truth is never easy after hiding it for a time. Conceived in 1985:
Heinsian SKI-BOY-n-WESTERN MUSIC -- 97
Rose-Colored Goggles
I don't know why I keep on teachin' people skiin'
When it's proved so many times that it ain't free; I ain't had one good season worth stayin'---
Maybe my leavin' would be the best for me.
But these rose-colored goggles
that I'm skiin' through
Show only the beauty,
and they hide all the truth;
And they let me hold onto
the good turns, the good lines,
The ones I get to ski when I ski with you;
And they keep me from feelin'
so cheated, defeated,
When reflections in your eyes show me a fool.
But these rose-colored goggles
that I'm skiin' through
Show only the beauty,
and they hide all the truth.
But I'll just keep on teachin' people skiin', And, maybe by countin' the many turns I've made, You'll believe me when I say I'll teach you, And I'll wear these rose-colored goggles with pride.
These rose-colored goggles
that I'm skiin' through
Show only the beauty,
and they hide all the truth.
98 -- MIXIN' MISERY & SKIIN'
A lot of good skiers, especially in Utah with the Greatest Snow On Earth, don't know how good they've got it most of the time; and still others in wet-snow places like Oregon or California, don't know how "bad" they have it; and then you've got the hard snow Back East---but they're all having fun, loving every minute. A 1996 parody of George Strait's
"Bigger Man Than Me," here's a fun one that addresses the vastly different snow conditions in different parts of the country.
Heinsian SKI-BOY-n-WESTERN MUSIC -- 99
A Better Way To Ski
I've never thought too much
about my skiin':
Utah's the Greatest Snow On Earth---
there is no doubt.
But, this storm, . . .
the skiin's strange and differ'nt:
Up here on Oregon's lifts,
there's one thing I've found out:
It takes a mighty man
to ski wet-cement
Some better men
might even . . . quit ski-ing;
But there's one thing I know
for sure that's certain:
It's for sure it's gonna ta-yake
a lot better way to ski.
I've never suffered much
in the lift-line,
And I've always skied as good
as any man;
But show me who can use
wet gloves and like it,
And I'll be the first to proudly
shake his hand.
It takes a mighty man
to ski wet-cement
Some better men
might even . . . quit ski-ing;
But there's one thing I know
for sure that's certain:
It's for sure it's gonna ta-yake
a lot better way to ski.
It's for sure it's gonna ta-yake
a lot better way to ski.
100 -- MIXIN' MISERY & SKIIN'
Everyone starts skiing for that sense of freedom; but sometimes, when you've done too much and your mind wanders elsewhere . . . or after a bad lesson from boy-friend in this case, even skiing isn't the escape it's meant to be.
From 1994, a remake of George Strait's "When Did You Stop Loving Me?" notice it's not the fact that he pushed her that bothers him, it's the bad turn she made:
Heinsian SKI-BOY-n-WESTERN MUSIC -- 101
When Did You Stop
Skiin' Free?
When . . .
did you stop . . . skiin' free?
How long . . .
has it been . . . a memory?
I gotta know,
for my own . . . way to ski:
Tell me, when . . .
did you stop . . . skiin' free?
Was it that turn . . .
when I pushed you and you fell down?
You know that turn . . .
has haunted me . . . for so lowng;
Was your carve
already cold? Tell me, please, I gotta know: Darlin', when . . .
did you stop . . . skiin' free?
There was a time
when you worshipped . . . what I taught---
Powder knows,
I'd bring it back . . . when you wont
Now I can tell, when we ski down,
it ain't skiin' . . . you're thinkin' 'bout.
Tell me, when . . .
did you stop . . . skiin' free?
Darlin', when . . .
did you stop . . . skiin' free?
102 -- MIXIN' MISERY & SKIIN'
It's a lonely job for a skiboy packing snow for summer irrigation; but it can be still lonelier being obsessed with skiing. Being addicted to nothing else but skiing hits you pretty hard at closing time, about 4pm in the afternoon.
Written in 1996, reflecting on George Strait's "Beyond the Blue Neon," this one also reminds us that, while the masses congregate on the already-packed blue-square intermediate runs, if not the valley floor, it is some-turns lonely at the top on the snow less traveled---and even the black-diamond expert skis the blues in his own melancholy way.
Heinsian SKI-BOY-n-WESTERN MUSIC -- 103
Beyond the Black-Diamond
Swingin' poles, cold-smoke bowls---
a skiboy turns as the tram-car rolls;
There's a hole on the hill
from some skiboy's spill---
the squeakin' track of that old bull-wheel.
I been packin' snow here,
for our water next year,
where the tearns of the lonely belong---
And wonder what's goin' on
beyond this black-diamond.
I hear tell, there's people out there
who don't know what skiin' Blues means:
They don't have a heart
that just falls apart
at the mention of not skiin';
I heard they pretend
the world doesn't end
right when I have to ski down---
I guess Life still goes on
beyond this Black-Diamond.
I hear tell, there's people out there
who don't know what skiin' Blues means:
They don't have a heart
that just falls apart
at the mention of not skiin';
Well, it's a quarter-till-4,
just time for one more---
what'll I do . . . after I ski down?---
I guess Life still goes on
beyond this Black-Diamond.
Lord, what's goin' on
beyond this Black-Diamond.
104 -- MIXIN' MISERY & SKIIN'
A more thorough reference to role models than just a
"Rhinestone Skiboy," it would have been easy for Gary to give up on this song, but he noticed its potential before too late---it is full of Hope and nuances. The "cattle agrazin'"
refers to the job of a ski-boy, packing snow for summer irrigation; the "ski-puns ablazin'" and "turning through His Pages" refer to his great ski manual and "His Wit." "Skiers Left and Right" refers to the rebalancing of grid-locked De-mocrats and Republicans. The "Winners of the Race" refers to the fact that most Ski Schools have been run too much by just great skiers rather than by truly Great Teachers. In the end, he appeals to the SnowBoarders to convert to the more practical and versatile mode of Skiing. The line "mostly the snow that he's kissed," "kissed" being like "skied," refers to the fact that Gary's gone most of his life "planting his face" in more ways than one without the benefit of a True Lover, persistent in getting his Life's Work done---he's practically
"The Virgin Gary." . . . In Gary's mind, he's not doing anything less than what Jesus did, with his Greatest Story Ever Told,