Smoky Mountain Family Historian

Friday, June 24, 2016


Yesterday, one of my friends from high school posted on Facebook that she had the song "Rhinestone Cowboy" stuck in her head. Most of us from that era know how difficult it is to remove that one from "auto-play."

I replied back that now it was stuck in the heads of all her friends except that I was singing a slightly different variation.

My brother's wife died, leaving behind an 18-month old son. For several years, I picked up my nephew from the babysitter's house after school let out and kept him until my brother returned home from work at Walmart, which was often late since he received a promotion to assistant manager and transferred to a store about 45 miles away. I would often play the radio, and sometimes it would be on as we were eating. I can still picture my nephew, sitting in his booster seat singing along with that song. He really only sang one phrase -- the phrase that was repeated often throughout the song and bore the title words. The problem was his vocabulary did not include the word "rhinestone" so he sang what he thought he heard. Yes, that song will forever be etched in my brain as "Macaroni on a Cowboy."

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