What every 'Gambler' knows...

Boy, "The Big Bang Theory" is the sitcom gift that keeps on givin'. Heh, heh. Thank you, Bill Prady and CBS.

Anyway, I heard one of my all-time favorite songs on the radio while driving to see the doc this afternoon. "The Gambler." Kenny Rogers. Written by Don Schlitz.

I could sing it when I was 2. I still love it. If you think about it, it's a good philosophy on life.

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em; know when to walk away, know when to run;

My mom and I both mentioned at lunch yesterday how much we used to like Kenny Rogers. You know, the slightly pudgy, white-suited, bearded guy who had all those hits in the '70s and '80s.

This new Kenny with the goatee, young wife and bad face lift? Well, not so much...

Ah, well. Time marches on. People make choices. I try not to judge.

But, to this day, whenever I hear his signature tune, my pulse quickens and a huge grin spreads across my face. Heck, it's still true of most of his hits.

For the record, my favorite "rare" Rogers tune is from "The Gambler" album -- "San Francisco Mabel Joy." Look it up. His version.

'A Little More Like Me (The Crucifixion)'

Downloaded a Kenny Rogers CD last night while hunting the Mickey Newbury song I wrote about earlier in the week. This has to be the most unusual take on this story I've ever heard.

Thought I'd share...

A Little More Like Me (The Crucifixion)

It was an April night and I was right
Then out on the town
The show was at the Palace
So we all went on down.

We all had a ball as I recall
But now it seems absurd
As the madness raged upon the stage
He didn't say a word.

He was a little weird and we all feared
He wasn't one of us
He didn't drink, he didn't smoke
And he didn't even cuss.

You'd see him now and then
With a bunch of men hanging 'round the sea
And I'm sure I would have liked him more
If he were a little more like me.

It was a spring-ish day
The clouds were gray
Looked like it might rain
We thought about the night before
And I was so ashamed.

When I heard what they had done to him
Stranger I had known
But as drunk as we all got last night
It's a wonder we got home.

He was a little weird and we all feared
He wasn't one of us
He didn't drink, he didn't smoke
And he didn't even cuss.

You'd see him now and then
With a bunch of men hanging 'round the sea
And I'm sure I would have liked him more
If he were a little more like me...

The songs that didn't make it...

This one's for all the songs that didn't make it.

You know what I mean. Album cuts, lost singles, sure-fire hits that didn't chart, damn good songs the public missed.

I tend to seek these out, cherish them, blab about them to anyone who will listen. They're usually better than the hits.

I've told you before about John Mathis and "Yellow Roses on her Gown." Won't repeat myself other than to say I have no idea why that song didn't make it.

Elvis had a slew of these kind of tunes. I spent about 5 years trying to track down "I'm Leavin'", a haunting, quite unusual song that EP recorded in 1971. Found it on a vinyl album box set in '95. RCA finally got around to releasing it on CD later that same year.

"Loving Arms" is another lost classic. Elvis recorded this during the nadir of his career (mid-70s), but it's one of his best. Those silly Dixie Chicks brought it back on their debut album, and I must say, did a pretty darn good job.

Briefly, other Elvis notables are "It's Midnight" and "Pieces of My Life." The latter was a hit for Charlie Rich.

B.J. Thomas had one, too. It is called "Most of All" and should have been recorded by Elvis instead of "I Just Can't Help Believin'." Also, if you never heard Thomas' "Rock and Roll Lullaby," run don't walk to iTunes or some such place and download it.

I could give you 100 other examples. But, for the sake of time, I'll share with you the song that prompted this blog.

Found my old 33 1/3 vinyl records while moving to the condo. One sentimental favorite was Kenny Rogers' "The Gambler" album. On it is one of these lost classics, a Mickey Newbury composition called "San Francisco Mabel Joy."

I remembered the song when I heard it, had discovered it as a kid, playing the tar out of the 8-track version of this album. (What an awful technology.) Listened to the little story again over the weekend and was quite taken with it. I'm going to see if I can bribe Emily into learning it so we can sing it.

A Google search revealed that both Joan Baez and Waylon Jennings recorded the song, too. Had no idea.

Anyway, here's the lyrics. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Or if you know this song, and love it as much as I do, send an e-mail my way.

San Francisco Mabel Joy

His daddy was an honest man
A red dirt Georgia farmer
His mama lived her young life having kids and bailing hay
He had fifteen years and an ache inside to wander
Jumped a freight in Waycross and wound up in LA.

Oh, the cold nights had no pity on that Waycross Georgia farm boy
Most days he went hungry then the summer came
He met a girl known on the Strip as San Francisco's Mabel Joy
Destitution's child born on an L.A. street called shame.

Growing up came quietly in the arms of Mabel Joy
Laughter found the mornings that brought the meaning to his life
Night before she left sleep came and found that Waycross country boy
With dreams of Georgia cotton and a California wife.

Sunday morning found him neath the red light at her door
A right cross sent him reelin' and put him face down on the floor
In place of Mabel Joy he found a merchant mad marine
He said your Georgia neck is red but, sonny, you're still green.

He turned 21 in a grey rock Federal prison
The ol' judge had no mercy on this Waycross Georgia boy
Starin' at those four grey walls in silence Lord he'd listen
To the midnight freight he knew could take him back to Mabel Joy.

Sunday morning found him neath the red light at her door
With a bullet in his side he cried have you seen Mabel Joy
Stunned and shaken someone said she don't live here anymore
She left this house four years ago, they say she's lookin' for

Some Georgia farm boy...

My first song...

This is a story I probably shouldn't share -- but I'm going to anyway.

I guess the first music I was exposed to as a babe was church music --- the soul-stirrin', back-slappin', four-part harmonizin' Southern Gospel church music. But somewhere along the way I found WIVK, Claude the Cat and what is now called classic country.

Driving to work this morning, I happened to hear the first song I learned to sing. It brought a smile to my face, even if it makes me chuckle now. Yes, I admit it: the song was Kenny Rogers' "The Gambler."

Somebody somewhere has a tape (it's either 8-track or maybe cassette) of a 2-year-old Jake singing "You got to know when to hold 'em/Know when to fold 'em..." at the top of his lungs. I can remember spending lazy summer afternoons at Douglas Lake with my grandparents. They would play Kenny Rogers on the 8-track (!) and I'd sing along.

Kenny's "Six Pack" was (I think) the first movie I ever watched in the theater. It was either that or "Mr. Mom."

Yep, I was warped even then.

I tell you, though, I am a little surprised, looking back on it after nearly 30 years, at the vocal range Kenny had. Long before he became a "Mad TV" gag or fodder for Seinfeld, The Gambler had a pretty good set of pipes. If you doubt it, find a copy of his single "I Don't Need You."

He made quite an impression on a little 2-year-old boy, I know that.

Funny, ain't it?