Heh, My grandpa was pals with Cal. We used to have him over for dinner fairly often and to a kid, he was the coolest sumbitch I had ever met. A million stories, most probably bullshit, completely nuts in that charming sort of way and friendly as hell. When my folks moved out of the state, I didn't hear much about him. Shame, I miss the bastard.

Oh yeah, and I used to ask him over and over again what a pussy cow was. He had a different answer each time.

Ah, I remember seeing this clip in a Beck/Will Farrell interview.
It just goes on and on and on... Like some strange Lovecraftian madness, the nameless endlessly strumming banjos of eternity.

I used to see this guy a lot out at Lincoln airport outside of Sacramento - my dad kept his beater Cessna there, and Cal would always walk around the airport and shoot the shit with all the local pilots. He had a Learjet. Super nice guy.

And yeah, pussy cow always mystified me.

Damn, grew up in Minnesota and even I know this song.

His nemises was a guy named Pete Ellis.

Pete Ellis Dodge
Long Beach Freeway
Firestone Exit, Southgate!

Cal Worthington and Evel Knievel were famous at the same time and shared the same sort of odd, self-made fame.

I still want those unattainable racing cars in the front row.

I'd say "over 21"

"West Coast" is probably overstating it; I never saw this up in Portland or Seattle...

Ten minute chunks of Night Flight interspersed with nothing but Cal, Pete Ellis Dodge, Crazy Gideon and 1-900 sex lines.

Oh, to be a kid again.

Oh yes.

whatever it takes

Pussy c--?

OOOOoooohh...

The pissy puma was great, then--BOOM! Hippo.

God damn. I thought I was the only one that thought he said pussy cow. This jingle came on daily in between Transformers/GI Joe/Whatever where I lived.

dupity dupe

He certainly beats Fred Ricart.

My dad grew up in the Valley outside Sac and he would sing this to me sometimes as a kid.