Moe Bandy and Joe Stampley and dated culture

(apple music image)

Country song lyrics of the 1970s did not always elevate us to the highest standards. It was the decade of "Smokey and the Bandit" movies. We did not put authority figures on a pedestal. We might dismiss law enforcement people as sticks in the mud who'd disrupt a good party.
I remember an op-ed that expressed disgust at Jackie Gleason for playing the dim-witted sheriff. We saw the same kind of sheriff character in Clint Eastwood's "Bronco Billy." That sheriff led an effort to rough up someone who had been found to be a draft-dodger during Vietnam. Authority figures were lumped in with the clueless folk who sat on their hands as the Vietnam war escalated. The generation of young Americans had long memories.
Jaded to the hilt after Nixon's exit, the peculiar type of cynicism associated with the 1970s really set in. "Outlaw music" sprouted in the country genre. No high ideals then. Just the opposite. And now I'm thinking about Moe Bandy and Joe Stampley. Perhaps they epitomized the air of resignation, the retreat into beer-soaked hedonism, that I'm suggesting. "Moe and Joe" was a popular reference to these guys who promoted a dive bar motif. Each had a good solo career going before the pairing.
The pairing was launched in 1979 when Jimmy Carter was president. They came out with the album "Just Good Ol' Boys," self-deprecating with the word "just." Indeed they sought an earthy and common touch while of course seeking a mint of money with their releases. Male-bonding came to the forefront. In the age before political correctness, women could be in the background, rather disposable frankly, perhaps worthy of mention only in the context of demanding alimony!
Were the lyrics to be taken at face value? I didn't sense among my generation of young males that we thought there was any sort of put-on. Many of us in fact hung out at pretty nondescript bars. Believe it or not, drunk driving wasn't a worry then. Society even allowed those in their late teens to drink, starting when I graduated from high school. Society was reacting to the war and figured if young men could die for their country, everyone their age ought to have the privilege of drinking too. The habit of drinking has since been thrown on its heels.
The songs of Moe Bandy and Joe Stampley were like a release. These two guys sought pleasure in the most immediate way and didn't much like dealing with any sort of pretense. Peel away the veneer of the music and maybe you'll see something hopeful there, something accenting the best of our nature. These two guys wouldn't want to hurt anyone, although they might if they drank too much. Society seemed to be looking the other way when it came to the dangers of drinking. Natalie Wood and her two male companions were out in that boat drinking a lot "because that's what people did then," a commentator on her tragic drowning once said.
Today we see "Just Good Ol' Boys," the single, described as "a tongue in cheek novelty single." It may seem tongue in cheek today. I'm not sure there wasn't a thread of genuineness in it at the time. Bandy in later years said "I really think my songs are about life." And I'll agree, as I point out that even superficial-sounding country lyrics hit home with us. The best songs would not climb the charts if they didn't.
President Carter talked up "outlaw country music" in a way that would be unheard of today. This sub-genre of country was a reaction to what could be termed "formulaic" country music. The younger folk didn't like the slick approach anymore. Protesting the war required the beating down of comfortable convention. A part of pop music drifted toward a hippie-ish, counterculture direction while in country, a fun-loving anti-intellectualism took hold. Hence, "Moe and Joe."
We saw the glorification of the truck-driving profession. Jerry Reed in the "Smokey and the Bandit" movies epitomized this. It seemed for a time that truckers were the last cowboys. Today, trucking is a job not unlike any other. Technology prevents truckers from bending rules and acting so independent. "Smokey and the Bandit" is like a time capsule.
A place we'd like to go back to? Oh no, not at all. Women were so incidental to it all.
 
My own personal ode
I have written my own song inspired by the kind of music that Bandy and Stampley gave us. It's called - ahem - "Loving Her is Like Parking Next to a Two-door." A friend said to me many years ago, "don't ever park next to a two-door." Obviously the door can swing open wide to give you a "ding." Someone mentioned to me the other day that two-door vehicles have become uncommon.
So, hurry up and record the song? I write song lyrics and poetry all the time and I only selectively have one recorded now and then. My "Loving Her" song is such a throwback but I enjoyed writing it just for that reason.
 
Is there a psychologist on campus?
My best friend in college and I once created an imaginary redneck friend who we named "Leroy." Full name of "Leroy Toffel." He had a dog he called "F--ker." "C'mere "F--ker." My friend and I shared how redneck guys tended to have such sweet mothers. We imagined Leroy's friends arriving for a party at his place with several guys standing in the back of a pickup. The driver stopped abruptly and some of the guys would fall down, getting mad as hell and swearing.
We observed outlaw country and didn't really think it was "tongue in cheek" at all.
Today we all have to be more responsible because of stringent DWI enforcement. Oh, but the old days: smoking without much reservation, putting down beers, listening to Waylon Jennings. And, Moe Bandy and Joe Stampley, "good ol' boys" to be sure. Was it all a dream? Now, just imagine some pedal steel.

"Loving Her is Like Parking Next to a Two-door"
by Brian Williams

She came to my attention
In ways I can't explain
I don't know why or wherefore
I had to learn her name
For sure we felt vibrations
A temptress she was true
She toyed away with my hormones
But was it just strange brew?

I got turned on by her smile
Now what world was I in?
It's hard to know when you're wasted
And can't hear through the din
The bar was full of ebullience
Now go and look that up
A friend said better be careful
In case I felt in love
He said:

CHORUS:
Loving her is like parking next to a two-door
You get too close and you find there's hell to pay
Ask her out and you'd better know what you're in for
'Cause loving her is like parking next to a two-door

She said she was from a small town
Now aren't they all alike
A friendly wave at the Co-op
Can make the day feel right
My hand slipped onto her shoulder
And then I felt the buzz
But maybe it was a moonbeam
That came down from above
 
I felt a need to unwind some
And she sure held the key
To find some bliss in the evening
And join that reverie
We saw the light with the neon
And heard the jukebox sing
And then my friend did exhort me
About that woman thing
He said:

(repeat chorus)

-Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com