Virginia's Sheep and U. Utah Philips
Virginia owned a sheep. Not a live sheep or a taxidermy sheep, it was a toy sheep made by Steiff, a German company that made teddy bears and bunnies and such; some of their toy animals were very realistic. Virginia's sheep was like that; in fact it was so realistic it was fully life sized. No, I'm not kidding, its head was about waist high to me. Don't ask me why; she had the sheep when we met. She likes sheep, that's all.
Normally the sheep stood watch in Virginia's living room, at one end of the couch. One evening in the early 1970s, however, we were going to see U. Utah Philips at a local folk club; I think it was the Freight and Salvage in Berkeley, California. Virginia decided to take her sheep. Someone had told Virginia that Philips, who sang, played guitar and told stories, made jokes about sheep. She thought the sheep might enjoy it as she (the sheep) normally didn't get out much. She did get to watch a sheep dog trial in Boonville, but that's another story.
The Freight & Salvage doorman seemed amused by the sheep; he collected our money but gave the sheep a free pass. The layout at the club had the stage in a corner opposite the dressing rooms, and there was a central aisle that Philips had to pass through to get from the dressing room to the stage. Virginia stood the sheep in the aisle right next to her chair. The lighting was dim in the audience area and bright at the stage, so when U. Utah Philips strode out he didn't see the sheep until he was almost on top of it. He did a little half-step, and then continued on to the stage. As he was adjusting the microphones for his guitar and vocals it seemed like he was trying hard to keep a cool composure, to not laugh. Finally satisfied with the microphones he said, "I see there's one of my woolly friends here tonight." The audience chuckled. "You know, I'm from Utah, where men are men and sheep are nervous." The audience groaned.
Many of his jokes made the audience groan. "My first job was running electricity to outhouses on Navaho land. I was the first man to wire a head for a reservation." Groan. "
Yeah, you're groanin' but I see you writing 'em down. You'll be telling 'em to your friends tomorrow!"
Just before the break Virginia took the sheep up closer to the stage. Philips gazed at it for a few minutes with a wistful look on his face, and then dedicated the next song to the sheep. He sang a few lines from the old Nat King Cole standard "There Will Never be Another Ewe."
Groan.
Philips sang his railroad songs and his pro-union songs and told stories. He had a great voice (he was the Golden Voice of the Great Southwest) and was an excellent storyteller. The moose turd pie story is now a classic. We all had fun, and I suspect Philips remembered it for a long time. I mean, how often did he see a sheep, a life-sized stuffed sheep, at a Berkeley folk music club? I know it has been an evening I've remembered well all these years. And the sheep enjoyed it, too.
Paul Ritter
Virginia owned a sheep. Not a live sheep or a taxidermy sheep, it was a toy sheep made by Steiff, a German company that made teddy bears and bunnies and such; some of their toy animals were very realistic. Virginia's sheep was like that; in fact it was so realistic it was fully life sized. No, I'm not kidding, its head was about waist high to me. Don't ask me why; she had the sheep when we met. She likes sheep, that's all.
Normally the sheep stood watch in Virginia's living room, at one end of the couch. One evening in the early 1970s, however, we were going to see U. Utah Philips at a local folk club; I think it was the Freight and Salvage in Berkeley, California. Virginia decided to take her sheep. Someone had told Virginia that Philips, who sang, played guitar and told stories, made jokes about sheep. She thought the sheep might enjoy it as she (the sheep) normally didn't get out much. She did get to watch a sheep dog trial in Boonville, but that's another story.
The Freight & Salvage doorman seemed amused by the sheep; he collected our money but gave the sheep a free pass. The layout at the club had the stage in a corner opposite the dressing rooms, and there was a central aisle that Philips had to pass through to get from the dressing room to the stage. Virginia stood the sheep in the aisle right next to her chair. The lighting was dim in the audience area and bright at the stage, so when U. Utah Philips strode out he didn't see the sheep until he was almost on top of it. He did a little half-step, and then continued on to the stage. As he was adjusting the microphones for his guitar and vocals it seemed like he was trying hard to keep a cool composure, to not laugh. Finally satisfied with the microphones he said, "I see there's one of my woolly friends here tonight." The audience chuckled. "You know, I'm from Utah, where men are men and sheep are nervous." The audience groaned.
Many of his jokes made the audience groan. "My first job was running electricity to outhouses on Navaho land. I was the first man to wire a head for a reservation." Groan. "
Yeah, you're groanin' but I see you writing 'em down. You'll be telling 'em to your friends tomorrow!"
Just before the break Virginia took the sheep up closer to the stage. Philips gazed at it for a few minutes with a wistful look on his face, and then dedicated the next song to the sheep. He sang a few lines from the old Nat King Cole standard "There Will Never be Another Ewe."
Groan.
Philips sang his railroad songs and his pro-union songs and told stories. He had a great voice (he was the Golden Voice of the Great Southwest) and was an excellent storyteller. The moose turd pie story is now a classic. We all had fun, and I suspect Philips remembered it for a long time. I mean, how often did he see a sheep, a life-sized stuffed sheep, at a Berkeley folk music club? I know it has been an evening I've remembered well all these years. And the sheep enjoyed it, too.
Paul Ritter