By Neena Strichart, Publisher
Mom recently gave me a bag of old magazines to peruse. My busy schedule caused me to basically forget about the bag–until this past Sunday. After breakfast I was determined to read and toss or store various piles of reading material. When I opened the bag of magazines I was thrilled to find a dozen or so 1948 and 1949 issues of “The Magazine Tucson.” As I thumbed through the pages of the October 1948 issue I was surprised to find a poem written by my father. There it was, printed on page 31– right next to an article about the famous artist Ted DeGrazia.
I’m so glad Mom is such a saver. Her sentimentality gives me so many chances to not only reminisce, but to discover new things about my sweet Daddy. Thanks, Mom.
Give Me The Songs Of The West
By Alfred E. Posner, October 1948
You can have your Love Songs,
Take away your Moon Songs;
If there’s any others–You can have the rest,
I’ll take the ones that suit me best;
Give Me The Songs Of The West.
You can’t help like a Western Ditty,
Be you from the Farm or from the City;
New York slickers want to Ride the Range,
Saw a Farmer up in Maine Acting strange:
He listened to a Juke Box–Let Out a Whoop,
Chased the Chief of Police–Twirling a Loop.
Give Me The Songs Of The West.
Opera at the Met leaves me rather chilly,
Jive at its best sounds very silly;
You can have all the swing,
Even Blues Songs by Bing.
I’ll Take The Songs Of The West.
I begin to long for the Open Spaces,
Familiar places and friendly faces;
Want to put on my boots and chaps,
Even ride a horse–perhaps,
When I Hear A Song Of The West.
Mammy Songs I could never see,
Sewanee River is all wet to me;
Shortenin’ Bread can stay Down South,
If I can’t sing Western–I’ll Shut my mouth.
I Want The Songs Of The West.
When it comes to tunes that can’t be beat,
If you’ll listen to one, you’ll get a treat;
Let out a yell and stomp your feet,
I’ve said it before–and I still repeat:
You Can’t Beat The Songs Of The Old West.
