Ronnie Furr: Genuine Okie - February 21, 2008
Ronnie Furr: Genuine Okie
By Gabby Cardin
He stands on the stage, guitar dangling from a strap around his neck, and a signature red and white bandana hanging almost abscenely from his back pocket. His tight jeans and long sleeved, pearlbutton western shirt have creases sharp enough to make a ginsu knife jealous. The white cowboy hat is vying for attention with his smiling equally-white teeth. The long, lean cowboy has the polished look of George Strait seasoned with a pinch of Alan Jackson and just a smidgeon of Jimmy Buffet for good luck. Not only does he play that guitar, he plays the crowd like a fine violin--or in this case, a fine fiddle. The crowd wants to dance; the cowboy obliges. That long, lean cowboy calls himself Ronnie Furr and is one of the most successful entertainers in the Valley.
Ronnie and wife, Terri, live in a 35-foot 2006 Hitchiker fifth wheel, parked at a McAllen RV resort. He spends most of the winter season in Rio Grande Valley patrolling the roads between Brownsville and Mission with the vigilance of a Texas lawman. Be it a honkytonk, flea market or a RV resort, if there is a stage big enough to hold his gear, he has probably played it. And if he has played it, there is a good chance he brought quite a crowd with him.
That becomes quite a blessing when an activities director is trying to book an act. When you book Ronnie for a gig, you get him, his wife Terri, and at least 40 people who are willing to put down $4 to dance to his music. And the 40 people will change from gig to gig.
"That's why you book Ronnie Furr--he's sure money," one activities director was quick to say. You've heard of the parrotheads, deadheads and trekkies, Ronnie's Rowdy Roadies is what they like to be called.
Another piece to this puzzle is his little lady. Terri, Ronnie's bride since 2003, is a staple at any Furr engagement. She might be dancing with a WWII veteran, showing an anxious group of young ladies a new line-dance, or hawking tickets for their next soiree. Terri is a woman of many talents. Not only does she do justice to a pair of jeans, she also handles his bookings, public relations and even, on occasion, sings a duet with her husband.
The Valley is replete with good musicians. Ninety percent of them are country-western entertainers. They are in direct competition with Ronnie Furr. But the vast majority of them are also retirees from other occupations.
The Furrs have no retirement or social security check coming in the mail. Of course, that's because they are not old enough to retire. Ronnie's music is their single source of income. Keep in mind that entertainers in the Valley generally receive 80 percent of the ticket sales. But 80 percent of nothing does not put much food on your plate. But fortunately for the Furrs, the lack of a crowd is no longer one of their problems. One jealous musician just shook his head and muttered, "they can't get enough of that Ronnie Furr."
Make no mistake about it, Ronnie Furr can sing a song. Also, don't mistake Terri Furr for just another pretty face in the crowd. They compliment each other nicely. Ronnie can concentrate on singing, writing and otherwise entertaining his devoted fans. Terri does her job by making sure the crowd is involved in all his shows whatever it takes. The same is true of the business side of his career. She makes sure the calendar is up to date. His website is her domain and she rules over it with a silken hand. She collects the cash, sells the CDs and makes sure everyone gets the right size T-shirt. Probably even puts gas in the pickup.
What lies down the road for the Furrs? Would they like to take another shot at the big time? Nashville is 500 miles from Ronnie's hometown, Tulsa, Oklahoma. That's only a 10 hour drive. When the wind blows out of the east, you can almost smell the "sharps and flats" as they float toward the heavens. The allure is powerful. And it is going to win. Their pickup will pull their fifth wheel eastbound on Interstate 40 again.
As for now, Ronnie is satisfied with playing his songs in the Rio Grande Valley. He's proud of the music that he's written. He's proud of the music that he sings. He's proud of Ronnie's Rowdy Roadies. He's proud of his bride. For the next few weeks, he'll continue to climb up the stairs of endless stages in the Valley. That long, lean cowboy will be on the stage, guitar and bandana, both hanging from somewhere. His success comes from what he is. Genuine Ronnie Furr--just a good old boy from Oklahoma.
By Gabby Cardin
He stands on the stage, guitar dangling from a strap around his neck, and a signature red and white bandana hanging almost abscenely from his back pocket. His tight jeans and long sleeved, pearlbutton western shirt have creases sharp enough to make a ginsu knife jealous. The white cowboy hat is vying for attention with his smiling equally-white teeth. The long, lean cowboy has the polished look of George Strait seasoned with a pinch of Alan Jackson and just a smidgeon of Jimmy Buffet for good luck. Not only does he play that guitar, he plays the crowd like a fine violin--or in this case, a fine fiddle. The crowd wants to dance; the cowboy obliges. That long, lean cowboy calls himself Ronnie Furr and is one of the most successful entertainers in the Valley.
Ronnie and wife, Terri, live in a 35-foot 2006 Hitchiker fifth wheel, parked at a McAllen RV resort. He spends most of the winter season in Rio Grande Valley patrolling the roads between Brownsville and Mission with the vigilance of a Texas lawman. Be it a honkytonk, flea market or a RV resort, if there is a stage big enough to hold his gear, he has probably played it. And if he has played it, there is a good chance he brought quite a crowd with him.
That becomes quite a blessing when an activities director is trying to book an act. When you book Ronnie for a gig, you get him, his wife Terri, and at least 40 people who are willing to put down $4 to dance to his music. And the 40 people will change from gig to gig.
"That's why you book Ronnie Furr--he's sure money," one activities director was quick to say. You've heard of the parrotheads, deadheads and trekkies, Ronnie's Rowdy Roadies is what they like to be called.
Another piece to this puzzle is his little lady. Terri, Ronnie's bride since 2003, is a staple at any Furr engagement. She might be dancing with a WWII veteran, showing an anxious group of young ladies a new line-dance, or hawking tickets for their next soiree. Terri is a woman of many talents. Not only does she do justice to a pair of jeans, she also handles his bookings, public relations and even, on occasion, sings a duet with her husband.
The Valley is replete with good musicians. Ninety percent of them are country-western entertainers. They are in direct competition with Ronnie Furr. But the vast majority of them are also retirees from other occupations.
The Furrs have no retirement or social security check coming in the mail. Of course, that's because they are not old enough to retire. Ronnie's music is their single source of income. Keep in mind that entertainers in the Valley generally receive 80 percent of the ticket sales. But 80 percent of nothing does not put much food on your plate. But fortunately for the Furrs, the lack of a crowd is no longer one of their problems. One jealous musician just shook his head and muttered, "they can't get enough of that Ronnie Furr."
Make no mistake about it, Ronnie Furr can sing a song. Also, don't mistake Terri Furr for just another pretty face in the crowd. They compliment each other nicely. Ronnie can concentrate on singing, writing and otherwise entertaining his devoted fans. Terri does her job by making sure the crowd is involved in all his shows whatever it takes. The same is true of the business side of his career. She makes sure the calendar is up to date. His website is her domain and she rules over it with a silken hand. She collects the cash, sells the CDs and makes sure everyone gets the right size T-shirt. Probably even puts gas in the pickup.
What lies down the road for the Furrs? Would they like to take another shot at the big time? Nashville is 500 miles from Ronnie's hometown, Tulsa, Oklahoma. That's only a 10 hour drive. When the wind blows out of the east, you can almost smell the "sharps and flats" as they float toward the heavens. The allure is powerful. And it is going to win. Their pickup will pull their fifth wheel eastbound on Interstate 40 again.
As for now, Ronnie is satisfied with playing his songs in the Rio Grande Valley. He's proud of the music that he's written. He's proud of the music that he sings. He's proud of Ronnie's Rowdy Roadies. He's proud of his bride. For the next few weeks, he'll continue to climb up the stairs of endless stages in the Valley. That long, lean cowboy will be on the stage, guitar and bandana, both hanging from somewhere. His success comes from what he is. Genuine Ronnie Furr--just a good old boy from Oklahoma.