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CrocoGator Shoes Blues
By: Wayne Brown
Silly me, my recent poem on “Whiskey n’ Crocodiles” has set off a flurry of questions regarding the drinking habits of the crocodile and how one could acquire shoes, boots, or a nice purse made from their skins. The concerns seem to center around whether or not the whiskey has any motivational effect on making the crocodile more receptive to the idea. For a while, I wondered why they were asking me but then it dawned on me that I was the one who wrote the poem in the first place. On that basis, I decide to give this whole thing its due consideration.
Americans seem to have a lure for shiny croc-o-gator belts, purses, and footwear. Maybe it’s the patent leather sheen or it just might be that intricate grain of the skin surface that catches the eye. Either way, Americans are more than willing to assign the tag of “successful” to a man who pulls up out front in his new convertible Cadillac sporting a fine, shiny pair of croc-o-gator shoes. Who could argue with such evidence?
I have been to the land of gators and crocs and seen my share of those well-preserved heads. The stores are full of the croc jaws with the teeth exposed to the world all mounted up on a piece of varnished plywood. While croc-o-gator shoes may spell “success”, there something about those heads that just spells “better used as bait”. I cannot imagine one of those sitting in Bill Gates living room at this point in my life. Bill might have some of the shoes but I doubt that he has the head.
Now some have expressed their sadness that they live so far inland that the crocs and gators do not frequent their universe. This has deprived them or might have so severely inflated the price of a pair of fine croc-o-gators that they are out of reach of that person’s budget. They can only walk by the store and wish as they pass the shoes displayed in the window. This causes me to wonder as to whether there might be a market for your quasi-crocs…you know, looks like the real stuff but ain’t? I’ll bet the Chinese are working on that right now. If so, I am sure it will make the crocodiles and alligators very happy when these products hit the market.
Of course, considering the popularity of the croc-o-gator look, I have thought of attempting to capitalize on it myself. You know, maybe bring out a line of leopard skin clothing highlighted with a nice pair of fine grain croc-o-gator shoes, belt, and maybe even a purse. How festive! All we need is a fur collar and some sunglasses baby! Maybe I’d get Paris Hilton to hawk the line for me. Now, that's hot!
I could also write a song that has them croc-o-gator over or under tones. You know, like Tony Joe White when he did “Polk Salad Annie”….chomp, chomp? All you have to do is think about it and bang, you are humming right along and singing all the words in your head and in the shower. Now that’s got the makings of a hit record. Let’s see, how would my song go?
THEM CROC-O-GATOR BLUES
Well, I caught me a gator and made a pair of shoes
Danced in the moonlight down in Baton Rouge
My woman up and left now I’m payin’ my dues
Now I’m singin’ those Croc-o-Gator Blues
Got me some colored laces and a belt to match
With the money I earned down in the oil patch
My woman done left me ‘cause I broke the rules
That’s why I’m singin’ those Croc-O-Gator Blues
Croc-O-Gator Blues, Croc-O-Gator Blues
Got it on my belt and the tops of my shoes
Now I’m goin’ round wishin’ I could lose
These Croc-O-Gator Blues, These damn ol’ Blues
BRIDGE: Play Somethin’ Swampy with a Blues Beat!
Went down to the river to catch me a few
Got a couple of crocodiles and an alligator too
But my woman done left me and took my shoes
Left me singin’ these ol’ Croc-O-Gator Blues
Now listen boys, I’ll do you a big favor
Guard your crocodiles and your alligators
Don’t mess with women; stay away from booze
Or you’ll be singin’ these Croc-O-Gator Blues
Maybe I could get ol’ Tony Joe White to record it and really put the right twist on the verses for me. He has been on a dry spell for a while now so he should be desperate enough to work cheap especially if I threw in a pair of “croc-o-gator” shoes in the deal. Chomp, Chomp!
I thought about starting a mail-order croc-o-gator business but then it dawned on me that the Post Office probably frowns on that. After all, what good is a three fingered postman when it comes time to sort the mail? “Dang, Joe! Looks like you been deliverin’ them mail-order gators again! Were you able to recover the rest of that finger from the croc?” Now, this is probably why the Post Office is losing money. They are way too picky about what they ship. Them boys need to buck up down there, buy a pair of gloves and start deliverin’ them gators. Imagine the fun…surprise gifts arriving in brown paper wrapping for all those relatives you have not seen. Open the end of that box and somewhat mad baby crocodile scurries out and bites a chunk out of ya. Them relatives won’t forget that Christmas. No sir and neither will the mailman.
There are endless possibilities but there is also the reality of things. PETA will probably be the limiting factor as to what your imagination can conjure up. Of course, you have to have a supplier. I suggest getting in touch with them folks on “Swamp People” on that television show. They must see a thousand baby crocs and gators a week. Of course, you’ll have to convince them to “bring ‘em in alive” if you don’t want your potential business to stink.
Sooner or later someone is going to figure out how to raise them miniature baby crocs and gators, you know, like they do them little horses? Yeah, they are gonna figure that out then folks will be able to get what looks like a baby crocodile but ain’t and keep it in their shirt pocket at work. “Say Fred, did you cut your finger? Oh, no….you got one them little crocs, do ya?” There’ll be some money to be made there for everybody including the doctor.
You could also get a big truck and just drive around the deep inland areas of the country selling your baby crocs out the back as you go. Man, would those folks up that way be glad to see you or what? I’ll bet some of them go to sleep at night dreamin’ of ownin’ their own baby crocodile…you know something to keep in the backyard with the pit-bull.
Yessireee Bob! You get to thinkin’ about them crocs and gators and all kinds of things just come to mind all at once. I think I’ll just take the rest of the day off and think on that for a while so I’ll know what my options are if I ever have the option to buy into one of them crocodile farms down there in Florida. According to Clint Eastwood, that makes a lot of sense because, “a man has to know his limitations.” Oh, well…Oh Lord I got ‘em, I got the Croc-O-Gator Blues!
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