Yee Haw-liday: when is a cowboy not a cowboy

The term ‘cowboy’ has been extended and over-used to the point where every self-styled cool guy from a specific geography gets to call himself whatever. Twentieth and twenty-first centurions hardly qualify. But they still sing about the life, even straight-faced to God on his birthday.

A friend of Muddy Jack’s, Juddy Mac, has penned and strummed a number about an hombre that helped him when he had car trouble around the holidays. Wishing the good samaritan a “Cowboy Christmas,” he yippie-ki-yai-ays his troubles as if he were deserving of the assignation. Close, but no cimarron. Appreciate the talent, though.

Clay Walker’s “Cowboy Christmas” has screechy pop fiddlin’, but it’s about a day-late, dollar-short loser off the rodeo circuit who can’t face the family. Dude, i says.

Moe Brandy remembers what must be “A Cowboy Christmas” while slogging through Christmas tree farms. Good memory. Country pop sing song.

Let’s polish off the saddle horn with a last near-miss sentiment from Don Edwards. “Every Day is Christmas in the West” is thoughtful set of similes making the cowboys’ travails like your decorated front room. Pretty.