When my friend and fellow historian Shirley Bennett Gibson posted this a few days ago, I just couldn’t let go of it. I just had to write some lyrics. So here they are, inspired by Merle Haggard’s “Okie from Muskogee,” a monster hit in September 1969. Two caveats: I know that the first line is a bald-faced lie, and Haggard was one of our finest songsmiths. Admittedly, in September 1969, this one troubled me just a mite.

I’m Proud to be a Kid from Arroyo Grande

We don’t smoke marijuana in Arroyo Grande

We take our trips to SLO, not on LSD

We don’t want no pot farms in the Huasna

We like Rotta wine and just-grilled lingui-cee

Well, I’m proud to be a kid from Arroyo Grande

Where steelhead still make their way upstream

Y’all can keep you’re your flowers and your love beads

Me, I’m, rootin’ Fridays for our football team

We don’t allow short skirts on our co-eds

God forbid they come to school in jeans

And boy, you better trim up them sideburns

Or do hard time in the office of the dean

Well, I’m proud to be a kid from Arroyo Grande

We drive Ford pickups, not lovebugs, along Branch Street

We get our hair cut every two weeks at Buzz’s

We don’t want no longhairs or smelly feet

Our deputies wear handsome cowboys hats made out of straw

Their silver prowl cars leave blisters on the road

So if you’re considerin’ some teenaged nonsense

Get ready for the visit to your folks’ abode

Yes, I’m proud to be a kid from Arroyo Grande

A place where even squares can have a ball

‘Less you think I’m spinnin’ a kinda fairy tale

You ain’t danced and sipped sopa at the Portuguese Hall.

Now, here’s Merle. Of course.