What's WRONG? At CLUB DEAD, the bell tolls for Jerry Reed, country singer/songwriter, occassional movie pal of Burt Reynolds, and (insert regret here) NOT my boss.
They say laughter can take you a long way on this earth, and make your journey not only more pleasant, but longer. Jerry Reed made it to 71. Lord know he made us laugh.
During my garage band days, I hung aroung Memphis and knew a few session musicians, and that's how I came to meet Jerry Reed. I didn't know what to think when he grabbed my bicep and felt it.
"Son!", he said in his best When You're Hot You're Hot voice, "What'cha been eatin?" He then offered me a job as a bodyguard, although it was probably more in jest than not. Back then, I had more granite and less filler material. More than a few times, I've wondered what might have been waiting on the road not taken.
Jerry Reed was one of those special singers who found a niche outside of the normal boundaries. After having established himself as a sucessful songwriter and session picker, he crossed over from country to pop stardom. It was an odd time musically, that era of homogenized AM Top 40, when radio played the popular songs, regardless of arbitrary categories. Jerry's song might be preceded by Diana Ross and followed by Led Zeppelin.
He was part of the "Country when country wasn't cool" club. You might even give him credit for being one of the ones who helped make it cool, with novelty songs like "Amos Moses," "Lord, Mr. Ford," and "Tupelo, Mississippi Flash(an homage to Elvis Presley, in appreication for Elvis having covered Jerry's "Guitar Man") keeping him in he public eye.
In 1974, he made "W.W. and the Dixie Dance Kings," his first of several films with Burt Reynolds, then the biggest star in movies. Jerry played a guitarist in a band managed by Burt. Something must have clicked, because they followed it up two years later with "Gator." The fun was just beginning
In 1977 came "Smokey and the Bandit." The movie became a national phenomenon at the height of the CB radio craze, and yielded a mega-hit, "East Bound and Down" for truck-drivin' Jerry. The sight of Sally Fields alongside Burt in the black TransAm also became legendary. Jackie Gleason boiled and bitched as the sheriff who chases them as they try to make good on a bet to smuggle a truckload of Coors beer to Atlanta. (Younger readers may not know that until 1981, Coors was sold only west of the Mississippi, which added to its mystique)
A sequel followed, then a disappointing third "Smokey" film, minus Burt, who was refered to but never actually seen as the TransAm peeled across the screen.
Jerry Reed got his own chance to star in 1979's "Hot Stuff." Also starring Suzanne Pleshette and Burt's pal Dom DeLouise, the movie told of Miami cops who fence stolen goods through a pawn shop in order to trap theives. "Hot Stuff" was better than it was received, but disco had come fully into fashion, and audiences evidently had grown tired of good ol' boys. Even the title made people think of the Donna Summer song of the same name, which had no connection to the movie.
Jerry went back into the studio and recorded another hit album, including one of his biggest songs, "The Bird." Jerry sang of buying a talking bird from a con man. Naturally, at the first opportunity, the bird flies the coop. And the same era yielded perhaps his crowning song, a lament familiar to every divorced man: "She Got The Gold Mine; I Got The Shaft."
His legacy is that of a man who left you feeling better and happier. that's a good life to live. He was wrong, you know. WE got the gold mine.
Then again, screw him, he's dead. Let's go look for
crocodiles.
StevenK
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