Whatcha Gonna Do with a Cowboy?

I never had much use for "young country," that spate of behatted pretty boys who showed up in the 80s with one cookie-cutter hit after another. It could be fun to dance to occasionally, but there was no heart to it. Country music, to me, was always George Jones and Tammy Wynette, Hank and Hank Jr., and Chris LeDoux.

Chris LeDoux died yesterday at age 56 of complications from liver cancer.

He was the real deal, a cowboy and rodeo star who took up songwriting and singing professionally after he retired from the bronc busting world. His music could be sad or soulful, and he could sure as hell cut loose on a number that made you want to two-step 'til dawn. (When I dated a couple of cowpoke-wannabes a decade and change ago, I did just that too many times to count.)

He was a class act all the way (and pretty easy on the eyes, too—woof!) and I'm thrilled I got to see him perform a couple of times. I'm headed to Austin, Texas for the weekend. That's where Chris LeDoux grew up, and they consider him a hometown hero. I'll be lifting a Shiner or two for one of the last real cowboy singers, for sure.

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