Those of you who know me well, my closest friends, know how much my late grandfather, CJ "Tebo" Poteat, meant to me. He was much more than a grandfather to me... he was a true friend and had a major impact on who I have become. Back in February when we were in Memphis I got a chance to talk to Paul Thorn about his song about Seasons, which is really just a bunch of words his mother used to say... Lynn said I should start writing down all the weird but precious things Poppa said, so I started trying to remember them. I'm sure I've left some off, but I've been thinking about them for some time now and have been wanting to write a song to honor that memory. Yesterday morning, while at Tanglewood, I woke up at 5am with the song playing back in my head. Sounds weird but this happens all the time, and sadly most of the time I just roll over and fall back asleep and most of the time these "gifts" go unrecorded. But not this time.
I got up and grabbed my iPad and started writing down everything I could remember. My grandfather was a "hoot"... I don't know how else to say it. He was a "character". If he was dear to you too and you have other Tebo'isms please get them to me so I can try to add them in some way.
The song is not complete but here's what I have so far:
Polyester pants and a pink cotton golf shirt
spray painted hat and Red Man stained teeth
With a heart as big as Texas, and hands as big as my feet
He knew that I loved him, and I knew he loved me.
From the day that I could talk I called him Poppa
From the day that I could walk I was by his side
I was his first and oldest grandchild, he was my first and oldest idol
His knee was my pony, and he'd say ride cowboy ride.
And there was something about his smile, the way he'd laugh,
the way he'd stand...
He left his mark on everyone that he loved.
His white shiny hair, an old spray painted chair
The things he'd say are just one of the things I miss about the man.
Like...
90% of those putts you leave short, are never going in
When you get where you're going, make sure you remember where you've been.
This little piggy and peas porridge hot, I think it's your nose that I got
Let's take a shortcut and walk across the land
I wouldn't shit you son, cuz you're my favorite terd,
we'll just wing it without a plan.
The things he'd say are just one of the things I miss about the man
He bought me my first fishing pole, 20 gauge shotgun and golf clubs
He taught me how to play while he was teaching me how to love
I loved that he'd take me with him and it never mattered what we did.
Now the eyes that I use to see the world, I swear that they're his.
And there was something about his smile, the way he'd laugh,
the way he'd stand...
He left his mark on everyone that he loved.
His white shiny hair, an old spray painted chair
The things he'd say are just one of the things I miss about the man.
90% of those putts you leave short, are never going in
When you get where you're going, make sure you remember where you've been.
This little piggy and peas porridge hot,
I know I'm talking I recognize the voice I just heard
I wouldn't shit you son, you can count on that, cuz you're my favorite terd.
Yeah pintos would be just fine, We'll be back when you smell us coming
I'll be here, come see a fat old man, we'll play a little golf if it's sunny.
This little piggy went to market, and this one peed in my hand.
The things he'd say are just one of the things I miss about the man.
I didn't know it then, but I know now, I think it was part of his plan
The things I say are just one of the things I miss about the man
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Raleigh, NC
