Hilarious Cowboy Poetry With Waddie Mitchell and Batxer Black | Carson Tonight Show

JOHNNY CARSON: [APPLAUSE] These two fellows you're going to meet are representatives of

the annual gathering of the cowboy poets in Elko,

Nevada, January the 29th through the 31st.

You may not realize it, and I didn't until

a few years ago, that poetry is part of the cowboy tradition.

Every year, 50 or 60 of these poets gather together and put on a show.

Tonight representing are Waddie Mitchell and Baxter Black.

Gentlemen.

[APPLAUSE]

It's Waddie, right?

WADDIE MITCHELL: Yeah.

JOHNNY CARSON: Good to see you again. How are you?

WADDIE MITCHELL: Just real good. Thanks.

JOHNNY CARSON: Is this the second or third time you've been through this?

WADDIE MITCHELL: Third time.

JOHNNY CARSON: Third time and Baxter this is your first?

BAXTER BLACK: Yes, sir.

JOHNNY CARSON: Your first time out of the shoot.

BAXTER BLACK: I'm proud to be here.

JOHNNY CARSON: Yeah. [LAUGHTER] Does this thing get bigger every year?

WADDIE MITCHELL: Seems to, yeah. We've gotten some nice press,

and there's folks that are finding they like it and coming.

JOHNNY CARSON: I want to ask you fellows who do cowboying for a living,

how you feel about Hollywood's depiction of cowboys in motion pictures?

WADDIE MITCHELL: Well, it's probably—I got a story about that if you want to hear that.

JOHNNY CARSON: Yeah.

WADDIE MITCHELL: Written by Gail Gardner.

Says, I want to tell you a sad, sad

story of how a cowboy fell from grace.

Really, this is something awful,

there never was a sadder case.

One time I had myself a partner.

I never known one half so good.

We throwed our outfits in together and lived the way the cowboys should.

He savvied all about wild cattle and was handy with a rope and for gentle well-reined pony,

just give me one he'd broke.

He never owned the clothes but Levis and he wore them 'til they slick.

Never worn the great big Stetson because where we rode,

the brush was thick.

He never had no time for women,

so bashful and shy was he,

but then he'd know that they is poison,

so he always let 'em be.

[LAUGHTER] Well, he went to work on distant ranges and I hadn't seen him for a year,

but then I had no cause to worry.

I know someday he'd appear.

Well, I just rode in from the mountains feeling good and stepping light.

I just sold on my yearlings, price was out of sight.

But then I seen the sight so awful,

it caused my joy to fade away.

And fill my very soul with sorrow,

I never will forget that day.

Well down the street there came a-tripping my old-time pardner

as of yore and although, I know you won't believe me.

Let me tell you what he wore.

He had his boots outside his britches.

They was made of leather green and red.

His shirt was of a dozen colors loud enough to wake the dead.

[LAUGHTER] Around his neck, he had a kerchief knotted through a silver ring.

I swear to God, he had a wristwatch.

Who'd ever heard of such a thing? Says I,

"Old Scout, what's your trouble?

Looks like you been eating loco weed.

If you'd tell me how to help you,

I'll get you anything you need."

Well, he looked at me for half a minute, then began to bawl.

He said, "Bear with me while I tell you what made me take this awful fall.

It was a woman from Chicago.

She put that Injun sign on me.

She said that I was handsome,

as a man can be.

I'm afraid there's nothing you can do to save my hide.

I'm wrangling dudes instead of cattle. I'm what they call a first-class guide.

I saddle's up their pump-tailed ponies,

fix their stirrups for them too.

I boost them up into the saddle.

They give me tips when I'm through.

Just like horses eating loco,

I couldn't quit, even if I tried.

I reckon I'll wrangle dudes forever til the day that I shall die."

Well, I drawed my gun and throwed it on him.

I had to turn my face away,

but I shot him squarely through the middle and where he fell, I left him lay.

[LAUGHTER] I hated for to do it,

but what I'd done, you can't recall,

but when a cowboy turns dude wrangler,

he ain't no good no more at all. [APPLAUSE]

JOHNNY CARSON: That's good Waddie. [APPLAUSE] You see,

Bob, why do you remember that whole poem?

[LAUGHTER] No problem at all.

Now, Baxter, I understand you started out as a veterinarian. Is that correct?

BAXTER BLACK: Yes, sir.

JOHNNY CARSON: Now you perform frequently?

BAXTER BLACK: Well, I wound up doing this cowboy poetry for a living.

I go to big places like Buffalo, Wyoming.

JOHNNY CARSON: Yeah. [LAUGHTER]

BAXTER BLACK: I'm going to be in Sioux Center, Iowa Saturday night.

JOHNNY CARSON: Sioux Center, Iowa. Good.

[APPLAUSE] Do you want to give us a little sample?

BAXTER BLACK: Well, there's traditional cowboy poetry and then there's a lunatic fringe,

which is my area.

[LAUGHTER] I might wind up standing up.

JOHNNY CARSON: That's okay, sure. We'll follow you.

BAXTER BLACK: Is this plastic?

JOHNNY CARSON: Yeah, well, you can move that out way if you want to. [LAUGHTER]

BAXTER BLACK: Now, cowboys and vegetarians don't necessarily always see eye to eye.

I mean, I'm in the cow business.

JOHNNY CARSON: Sure.

BAXTER BLACK: I found out the other day that they had done some studies and it

turns out that they found that plants feel pain. Pain.

JOHNNY CARSON: Well, I didn't know that.

BAXTER BLACK: Yes. [LAUGHTER] That inspired this little piece entitled The Vegetarian's Nightmare.

Or a dissertation on plants' rights.

Brocolli power!

Ladies and diners, I make you a shameful degrading confession.

A deed of disgrace in the name of good taste,

though I did it, I meant no aggression.

I had planted a garden last April and lovingly sang it a ballad.

But later in June beneath the full moon, forgive me,

I wanted a salad.

[LAUGHTER] So I slipped out and fondled a carrot,

caressing its feathery top.

With the force of a brute,

I tore out the root! And it whimpered and came with a pop.

[LAUGHTER] Then laying my hand on a radish,

I jerked [POPPING SOUND] and it left a small crater.

Then with the blade of my True Value spade,

[LAUGHTER] I exhumed a slumbering tater. [LAUGHTER] Celery I plucked,

I twisted a squash!

Tomatoes were wincing in fear!

[LAUGHTER] I choked the Romaine,

it screamed out in pain.

Their anguish was filling my ears!

I finally came to the lettuce.

As it cringed at the top of the row. [SQUEAKING SOUND]

[LAUGHTER] With one wicked slice,

I beheaded it twice, as it writhed,

I dealt a death blow.

[LAUGHTER] I butchered the onions and parsley,

though my hoe was all covered with gore.

I chopped and I whacked without looking back,

then I stealthily slipped in the door.

My bounty lay naked and dying,

so I drowned them to snuff out their life.

I sliced and I peeled, as they thrashed,

and they reeled on the cutting board under my knife.

[LAUGHTER] I violated tomatoes,

[LAUGHTER] so their innards could never survive.

I grated and ground 'til they made not a sound,

then I boiled the tater alive.

[LAUGHTER] Then I took

the small broken pieces I had tortured and killed with my hands and tossed them together,

heedless of whether they suffered or made their demands. I ate them.

Forgive me, I'm sorry.

But hear me, though I'm a beginner,

those plants feel pain.

Though it's hard to explain to someone who eats them for dinner.

I intend to begin a crusade for plants' rights,

including chickpeas, and the ACLU will be helping me too.

In the meantime, please pass the blue cheese. [LAUGHTER]

JOHNNY CARSON: Very good. Thank you Baxter.

We'll be back. Good stuff.