Growing up in a small town int he 1960s, You Never Even Called Me By My Name rang of truth rather than parody. I must have been about 14 when first heard this song. Became a favorite song to erupt at drinking parties beyond where the blacktop ended just over the flood levee along the river's sand bar where underagers went to drink on summer evenings.
Poverty was quite common and that led to broken families and broken people spanning generations of one family. Mommas went to prison. Dads got stabbed and shot in poker games when truck titles were in the pot and the loser had second thoughts. Underaged sisters ran off when the carnival passed through town. Bikers came to town to try and see which one looked most like the newborn so would assume responsibility. A mom whose husband died in the penitentiary crossed up two adult sons on a drug deal and they tossed her body in the big lake with log chains which was a plan but failed to do the job once the ice melted in the spring.
Married high school coach got the cheerleader pregnant. Mayor and brother-in-law were shuttling in the town's coke and weed supply using code phrases like the "crow flies at midnight" over their CB radios. Neighbor blew the levee with dynamite during a big flood so trashed everyone downstream of him leaving sand where had once been excellent soil. Brawls by married couples or between male and female alphas trying to settle simmering rivalries dating back a few decades to elementary school were the norm near closing time on a Saturday night. You have not seen a fight until a purse with a brick inside hits the other woman in the side of the head of someone holding a clump of hair from the purse-swinger.
Loved all the chaos and thankfully was able to move away but when visit can witness the same old sad tune but with fewer people in town these days but still as dysfunctional.
