Looking for Posthole Jack

Subject: Looking for Posthole Jack
From:
Date: 25 Nov 98 - 02:21 AM

I am looking for a song probably title Posthole Jack. It starts out something like

I was out in ole Nebraska times were gettin kinda gant Built me up a little fire from a grass-like clump of plant Eggs and bacon in my skillet, fire kept gettin kinda low Set another clump a blazin, set my skillet in its glow.

If anyone knows where the words can be found, I would appreciate an email.

Larry Baxter

Subject: RE: Looking for Posthole Jack
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 23 Jul 06 - 11:17 PM

This radio station playlist lists a song called WHERE THEY BURRIED [sic] POST HOLE JACK performed by Smokey Garrettson.

Records by Mail is advertising a different record by Lee "Smokey" Garretson (note difference in spelling).

Those are the only 2 references I can find to this person.

Subject: RE: Looking for Posthole Jack
From: Peace
Date: 23 Jul 06 - 11:36 PM

"One story, though not of an Irishman born, begs to be told. Jack McGrath was sent by a rancher to dig postholes. The rancher was distracted by other business, forgot about Jack, and when he finally remembered, 'Post Hole' Jack had dug a line of holes into the next ranch."

That is from

www.casperirish.com/history.htm

Subject: RE: Looking for Posthole Jack
From: wysiwyg
Date: 23 Jul 06 - 11:47 PM

Anybody email the requestor to keep checking back?

~S~

Subject: RE: Looking for Posthole Jack
From: Peace
Date: 24 Jul 06 - 12:15 AM

Nope. But I did e-mail the fellows who operate the radio show and asked if they knew where the words might be. I'll post the response if and when.

Subject: RE: Looking for Posthole Jack
From: Peace
Date: 24 Jul 06 - 12:50 AM

PS,

The initial post was from November, 1998.

Subject: Lyr Add: POSTHOLES (New Zealand)
From: Little Robyn
Date: 24 Jul 06 - 03:35 AM

Not the one you're talking about but New Zealand has it's own song about postholes. I'm not sure if it's a true story or just a tall one but the idea of an empty railway wagon with Postholes written on the side has tickled quite a few people.

POSTHOLES
Tim Campbell (Field research, and song structure)
John Archer (Lyric development, and music) 1984
Tim was working as a shunter at the Milson Yards in Palmerston North in 1980. His boss kept annoying him by making him continually re-arrange a lot of empty goods wagons (freight cars). So Tim got rid of all the wagons...
C
My name's Sam and I'm a shunter;
       Am
Out at Milson I work wonders
      F                C             G
As I shuffle rakes of wagons to and fro
    C
But lately it's been tragic,
       Am
For despite computer magic
       F                   G7                  C
Those goods won't go where goods-trains used to go!

Chorus;
             F                              C   
For they're closing all the country sidings down
G                                  C F C
Tearing all the tracks out from the ground
      F
What am I going to do?
    C                   Am
To get these postholes through?
               D7             G7             C
Since they're closing all the country sidings down:

"Here's five hundred prefab postholes,
For a Mangaweka farmer,"
I wrote on some empty wagons in the yard.
"But they've built the deviation,
And closed old 'Weka station,
So we took them to Taihape," said the guard.

I sent postholes through the gorge,
To a fencer at Oringi,
But a phone call came from Dannevirke to say:
"Well, your wagons have arrived,
But we can't find a thing inside!
You'd better make a claim for postholes right away!"

So I thought I'd try again,
With some holes to Bonny Glen,
But they only got as far as Marton Yards,
Where they sent them on by road,
A whole truck and trailer load,
Now I've got to pay the double handling charge.
Chorus

Then a cocky back of Westmere
Said "Me postholes never got here"
Others turned up cracked and broken: clogged with sand.
That's why from Newman to Okoia
And up back of Mangahuia,
They've gone back to digging postholes out by hand.
Chorus


Robyn

Subject: RE: Lyr req: Looking for Posthole Jack
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Jul 06 - 02:20 AM

refresh, with corrected thread title tag.

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Posthole Jack
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 26 Jul 06 - 09:41 PM

Posthole Jack is also the name of a character in the Australian comedy/western film "The True Story of Eskimo Nell," 1975.

Subject: Lyr Add: POSTHOLE JACK
From: GUEST,Larry Baxter
Date: 23 Sep 06 - 08:56 PM

It amazes me that (a) this post reply took so long, and (b) that I found it. In any case, I found the lyrics I was seeking - they are the same as referred to above in the radio log from Wyoming and I have tried to transcribe them below if someone else is interested.

I was down in ole Nebraska way and a gettin sorta gant
Built me up a little fire from a grass-like clump of plant
Eggs and bacon in my skillet, fire kept gettin kinda low
Set another clump a blazin, held my skillet in its glow.

Kept a' walkin and ignitin took my grub in hops and jumps
Took a might amount of matches lightin all them dry Nebraska clumps
Was a getting powerful weary when at last my chuck was done
I settled down to feedin out there in the settin sun

As I sat there in the glowin ? how the country looks
For I'd crossed into Wyoming 'fore I got my supper cooked

Twas a land plain topsy turvy, twas a place where no man ?
Just the horned toads and cottontails communin with their god
But without no rhyme nor reason, without farm or fence or shack
Where in some forgotten season they had buried posthole jack

Dark was comin down the prairie and a coldness sorta spread
Far as I could reach was nearly level place to roll my bed
From the sagebrush and the cactus and its getting mighty dark
All this vast Wyoming lacked a sorta open place to park

But at last I found a clearin, twas about six foot by three
With a yappin coyote nearin I laid down on the lone prairie
Guess I must a got ta dozin for I woke up with a jump

And there I was, plumb frozen, tangled with a sagebrush clump
Well I climbed back in my bedroll, I'm bent on catchin forty winks
I didn't realize a dead soul was givin me the jink

No I never new that bed ground twixt the greasewood and the stones
Was a spot some folk long dead found, just to rest his weary bones.
Never knew that little clearin there where I unrolled my pack
So deserted like appearin, was where they buried Posthole Jack

Well in may have been a minute but it seemed more like a week
There's my bed without me in it, I'm out playin hide and seek
And I'm full of plain disgusted oer Wyoming's rocky plains
And a critter I can't bust that bed throws me once again

Well I climb back in the saddle, hook my spurs in good and tight
I'm bound to ride that bedroll if it takes the whole durn night
Far away the frogs was croakin, finally lulls me to a nap

All a sudden I'm not jokin, I'm out sittin on my lap
Forty times I tried to ride her, and forty times my spurs bit deep
Boots and spurs don't make no difference, couldn't stay and couldn't sleep

But the dawn came up like thunder, and I saw Wyoming's face
In the light I ceased to wonder at the cause of my disgrace
Though it weren't real surprising when I rolled the bed tarp back
For then I seen the mound a risin where they buried Posthole Jack.

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Posthole Jack
From: GUEST
Date: 23 Sep 06 - 09:02 PM

Never did hear from the radio station.

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Posthole Jack
From: Q (Frank Staplin)
Date: 23 Sep 06 - 11:21 PM

Guest Larry, what is your source for the lyrics?