I used to work for this dude named Jim during one of my summers at home in North Carolina. He was a good’ole boy from North Carolina with a hunk of land and a big truck. It was my job to help him take care of his hunk of land and a few other various sections of the earth that he laid claim to in one way or another. I drove the tractor and cut the lawn, dug trenches, cleaned the gutters, killed hornet nests, washed Jim’s truck, mulched the garden,the list of shit I did was endless. It was a decent summer. I had plenty of time to myself in the summer sun getting that good kind of sweat and fulfillment that you get from a hard day’s work. Jim would always leave out a cooler with some snacks and a few Coronas, he loved Corona. I was still at that age where someone leaving you a couple of beers was tantamount to finding gold.
Some days Jim would stick around and work in the sun with me. He was the type of fella who had a lot of stories to tell and a lot of assumed wisdom to impart, so Jim would do most of the talking and I’d listen and sip on my beer. I remember bits and pieces of those summer conversations, and stuck in amongst those fond memories is the recollection of one of Jim’s favorite things to suggest that I do with my time, “hey man you gonna bird dog some chicks this weekend?” Back then I wasn’t quite sure what “bird dog” meant and to be honest I still don’t. So when I saw that we were filming a band named Bird Dog I immediately thought of old Jim. I wonder where he’s at and if he’s drinking a Corona. I wonder if he’d dig this band. Would he turn it on loud, crack open a cold one and a pack of Cools and bird dog some chicks passing by? Yeah, I think he wouuuuld.