When You're Hot, You're Hot

There are lots of reasons to miss Jerry Reed. The man was a great songwriter. He told stories like "Amos Moses": "Well, Amos Moses was a Cajun. He lived by himself in the swamp. He hunted alligator for a livin'. Just knock 'em in the head with a stump. The Louisiana law gonna get you, Amos! It ain't legal huntin' alligator down in the swamp, boy!" I guess I don't have to tell you that anybody who would mess with ol' Amos is lookin' for a heap o' trouble.
He was also quite the thespian. He understood his limitations as an actor, telling an interviewer "When people ask me what my motivation is, I have a simple answer: money." Even so, he managed to appear in more than twenty different films and TV shows over a thirty year career, and contributed to nearly as many soundtracks along the way. And this is how I will choose to remember Jerry Reed.
I was introduced to Jerry by my older brother, via Burt Reynolds. He was a big fan of one of Jerry's first films: "W.W. And The Dixie Dance Kings." I understood that Burt was the star, but there was something about that second banana thing that really made me appreciate the laid-back twang of his good buddy Jerry. This friendship was on full display in the first two "Smokey and the Bandit" movies, but Cledus "Snowman" Snow isn't the role I will remember best. That distinction lies squarely on Bama McCall.
In the summer of 1976, Burt Reynolds' directorial debut and the sequel of sorts to his 1973 film "White Lightning," was playing up the road at our local drive in. My older brother took me to see "Gator," squeezed into the back of his Toyota pickup along with several other friends of ours and enough lawn chairs and bean bags for us all to take up two or three stalls. I have a fond memory of Lauren Hutton's brief nudity, and Burt's sweaty tough-guy, but it was Jerry Reed's Bama McCall that stole the show. This was a guy who was every bit as nasty as the characters in his songs. Bama would just as soon pat you on the back as empty both barrels of his sawed-off shotgun into your gut. He was a very bad man.
And Jerry Reed was a very nice man. That's why they call it acting, I suppose.