Here's an easy question for anybody's who's been in front of a television in the last decade or two (or three): have you had your Jimmy Dean breakfast yet? Maybe you haven't. Maybe that's why you're ambling along like some wig-wam shit. Maybe you prefer Morningstar products. It doesn't matter. Jimmy Dean is dead and a whole generation is only gonna remember him as the microwaveable pork sausage guy. Which is cool, he did hawk those things for many years, but Jimmy Dean made his bones in the country circuit; as a musician, radio personality and jump-starter for many luminaries within those environs. Patsy Cline and Roy Clark became who they were because of Jimmy's good-natured Texan ways.
But are we to judge a man for his savvy business acumen? I fucking hope not! I don't know about you, but those sausage patty commercials, with the nuclear-age eggs soft and setting atop, the delicious grease working its eons of miracles into the biscuits made a believer out of me. The whole while, Jimmy's 1961 scorcher "Big Bad John" playing in the back of my mind, slightly reminding me of Jack Palance's Jack Wilson's character's Cheshire cat grin in the film adaptation of Shane.
Say what you wanna say about pitch guys, Jimmy was no pitcher, he was a country boy who made good on his business and was content with the association. So, have you had your Jimmy Dean breakfast today? No? Oh well, maybe you can hit play below as the sweet grease escapes the corners of your mouth. Smile fucker. Pig tastes good. Let Jimmy's saccharine croon guide you.
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