A West Texas Christmas for Guys Like Me

Pancho’s Picks — Holiday Edition (for the rest of us)

I wasn’t even in the damn holiday spirit this year. Hard to feel jolly when it’s 70 degrees in West Texas, the sun’s cookin’ your neck like it’s early October, and the only thing “frosty” is the beer you crack open after work.

But the wife gave me that look, so I crawled up into the attic, fought off the dust bunnies and regret, and dragged down every plastic tub labeled “Christmas Shit—DO NOT THROW AWAY.”

Tangled lights, glitter-covered angels, a Santa whose beard looks like it’s been dipped in mesquite ash.

You know — the usual.

But I figured if I’m gonna be knee-deep in fake snow and real attitude, I might as well throw on the only Christmas carols that guys like me actually listen to.

So I hit play.

1. “Merry Christmas from the Family” — Robert Earl Keen

This one’s scripture. The gospel of dysfunctional holiday gatherings.

Truth is, Robert Earl Keen wrote the soundtrack to every lopsided Christmas I’ve ever survived — cheap beer in the cooler, mismatched spouses, someone’s weird in-law stirring Bloody Marys like they’re casting a spell.

It’s home.

Chaotic, loud, a little embarrassing… but still home.

2. “Christmas in Prison” — John Prine

Leave it to Prine to make a love song out of cold steel and bad decisions.

And yeah… this one hits a little close.

I’ve spent a holiday or two behind bars, eating mystery meat while pretending it’s ham and trying not to think about the people waiting on the outside.

This song reminds me how damn grateful I am not to be there anymore — how lucky I am to be here dragging Christmas boxes for the woman who kept me alive long enough to figure life out.

3. “Santa Got Busted by the Border Patrol” — Kevin Fowler

I swear to God this is a true story.

Feels like something that’d happen on 285 after a night in Pecos — Santa, red suit wrinkled, sleigh running hot, trying to explain himself to a Border Patrol agent who’s had a long week. Hell, Fowler barely exaggerates it.

If they tried to bust Willie a time or three, they sure as hell aren’t giving Santa a pass.

This one’s pure Texas ridiculousness, and that’s why it belongs on my list.

4. “Grateful for Christmas” — Hayes Carll

Hayes always sneaks the truth in through the side door.

This one reminds me of home — not the picture-perfect Hallmark bullshit, but real home:

the family that’s getting older, the kids getting busy, the traditions shifting, the things you try to hold onto even as they slide through your fingers.

They say that if you’ve been married more than once you can say “several.” I have been married “several” times.

It’s funny and sad and honest… kind of like every damn December.

And somewhere between the lights, the boxes, and the songs… I caught myself feeling something I didn’t expect:

a little bit of Christmas spirit creeping in, dusty boots and all. Maybe it was the music.

Maybe it was the wife smiling because I did the thing I didn’t want to do.

Maybe it was gratitude — the kind that shows up whether you invited it or not.

Either way…

I reckon Christmas found me again this year.

— Pancho’s PicksRiding for the real ones, dodging the rhinestone pretenders

“Dublin Blues” — Guy’s Goodbye, Noeline’s Echo

Some songs don’t just get written — they happen to a man. “Dublin Blues” is one of those. Guy Clark penned it back in ’95, and it’s been echoing down barrooms and heartbreak ever since. It’s the sound of a man who’s seen the world and found out it don’t hold a candle to what he’s lost.

Now folks still argue what he meant by it. Was it Guy sayin’ goodbye to his old running mate Townes Van Zandt, the kind of friend you loved enough to fear losing? Or was it a weary kind of amends to Susanna, the woman who stood by him through storms most folks couldn’t weather? Maybe it was both — or maybe it was just Guy doing what he did best: turning his own ache into something the rest of us could bleed to.

Fast-forward a few decades, and a young Canadian singer named Noeline Hofmann sits behind a mic and hums along to that same tune. She’s sung it enough times to make it her own — not by changing the words, but by understanding them. Her voice feels like it’s riding shotgun on a backroad somewhere between Tahoka and Tatum, carrying that same kind of quiet hurt that made Guy’s songs immortal.

That’s the mark of a true cover: not imitation, but conversation — one soul reaching out across years and miles to answer another.

And as the Gospel of Pancho says — they don’t make ’em like Townes, Guy, or John Prine anymore.

Just lucky we’ve still got folks like Noeline keeping their ghosts company.

Ditch

Sometimes I just find a sound that resonates within me. Through a random shuffling of a Spotify playlist for the music of Payton Matous, I came across the music of Sam Baker.

Baker, an American folk musician, based in Austin, Texas has a way with his words. This poet grew up in Itasca, Texas and even played high school football with A fellow Texas legend, the great Tommy Alverson.

After an accident on board a train in South America that left Sam Baker without the dexterity of his fingers he re taught himself to pick the guitar, “left handed.” Writing music and poetry helped him relearn words and memories that had been lost in the accident.

Sam Baker is a survivor and the kind of man who I aspire to be. A man who never gives up no matter how great the odds.

Baker’s song ditch off of his 2013 self released album, “Say Grace,” is a song about life. Just a regular Joe going through the struggles of adulting and just doing his best to keep it all together.

Some of Bakers work has been compared to fellow great story telling artists like Guy Clark, John Prine, and Townes Van Zandt.

Take a deep dive into Sam Bakers stories and you are sure to find something that resonates within you as well. Until then, keep streaming the music and buying the merch to support the music you love.

Pancho.