My dad, J Parson, has been singing his whole life. When I was a senior in high school he self-published his first album and his fan base expanded outward from my family’s kitchen table. Now when he isn’t running his cattle business he’s traveling across the country with just my mom and his guitar.

Mike and Annie’s Penny Bar & Cafe is frequented by energy workers and cowboys. Some years ago, though, European tourists joined the mix. They pull their motorcycles into the small town of McKittrick, home to fewer than 200 people, because word of the Penny Bar, literally a bar wallpapered with almost a million pennies, reached the pages of a popular travel guide.

In late July I was in the passenger seat as my dad zoomed his truck over the hills outside Bakersfield, taking corners on the left side of two-lane Highway 58 so we could reach McKittrick before sunset. Oil pumpjacks peppered the car window as the sun sank closer to the Temblor Range, which my dad sings about in one of his new songs. Our destination that evening — the Penny Bar — is the subject of a different song, and we wanted to catch the last sliver of sun for some exterior shots with Annie herself to use with my dad’s newest CD release.

We barely made sunset as we pulled up to the quiet main drag of McKittrick. My dad and I jumped out, leaving my mom and my girlfriend with the truck as we snapped some shots on the corner. The sun disappeared, so I relaxed a bit knowing the twilight would last a while. In front of the Penny Bar we met a couple Canadian tourists who had stopped on their way to Las Vegas. They pulled away on their motorcycles, and with room to work we took a few shots of my dad at the Penny Bar entrance. The sign on the Penny Bar says McKittrick Hotel, though the building hasn’t operated as such in decades. A cardboard cutout of John Wayne decorates one window upstairs, where owners Mike and Annie Moore live. A cutout of the Three Stooges fills another.

Annie came out the front door to take some photos with my dad, and soon enough it was a party. We moved the shoot inside, and inevitably my dad started taking requests. Without a proper microphone stand, my dad’s friend and McKittrick resident Steve Twisselman held two microphones for guitar and vocals, hooked to a karaoke machine set up on the piano. The requests, a mix of Waylon Jennings, Marty Robbins, and J Parson originals to which everyone sang along, lasted until 11:30 or so. With the usual closing time at the Penny Bar being closer to ten o’clock, it was surely a night to remember.

Visit www.jparson.com to learn more about my dad. His new CD, The Eyes of a Cowboy, will be available soon.

The following I took with my Holga after the official shoot wrapped.

J Parson hugs Annie Moore, subject of his song "Annie and the Penny Bar"

Steve Twisselman, McKittrick local, had the party where J met Annie and was inspired to write the song.

Cowboy singer J Parson performs at the Monterey Cowboy Poetry and Music Festival on December 12.

Telling other children my dad was a cattle rancher got me a reputation as something of a farm boy among my school friends. I remember my severe reluctance during the few times a year when I’d have to get on a horse and help push cattle for a few hours. After the grown-ups would sort the cattle and the calves were ready to get branded and castrated maybe I’d hold the nut bucket. Or, if help wasn’t needed with flanking the calves I’d be tasked with collecting the excised bovine scrota to count at the end of the round-up.

Some nights my dad would come in after feeding the horses, sit down in the kitchen or living room and start playing guitar and singing Johnny Cash, Marty Robbins and maybe a little George Strait. Maybe six years ago he started playing his songs for larger audiences. Soon enough he was singing the National Anthem at a rodeo, singing the theme song for a western-themed cooking show and flying to shows across the country. My dad was meeting cowboys with facial hair so flagrant they made my dad’s graying red mustache seem unassuming by comparison.

This weekend I traveled up to Monterey, CA this weekend to see my dad sing cowboy songs and absorb the strange culture of cowboy poetry and music. People with the most elaborate western clothing you’ve ever seen, accented with brilliant silver and immaculate leather fringe, flooded a convention center in downtown Monterey to listen to cowboys sing about being cowboys.

I hadn’t seen my dad perform in front of a large audience for years, if ever. For someone who talks slower than I do (and that’s pretty slow), my dad’s stage presence surprised me. He was making jokes like the 500 people in the audience – mostly gray-haired retirees in pristine beaver fur cowboy hats – were really just us family. And, when his set was over, a bunch of cowboys shouted in gravelly voices for one more song.

My dad has traveled up and down California and across the country doing what he loves – playing his music. He’s put out several albums, and up to now my mom has been taking care of the album art. This time around it was my turn to make some publicity photos for him, and perhaps an album cover too.

It was my first serious session with my new Strobist kit (since Midwest Photo Exchange didn’t ship it in time for holiday photos, but that’s another story). Somehow, despite Joe the horse getting bored and fidgety, my batteries running out every few shots, and flashes that decided to fire only now and then, I got enough keepers to last the old man a while.

The background I used is this cowhide my parents have been using in their house in Bakersfield, CA.  I had been itching to use it for a few days leading up to the shoot, but my plans were almost thwarted when the dog pooped on the edge of the hide the day of the shoot.  Luckily my mom was quick to apply the proper  cleaning solution and the smell was gone by the time my dad sat down in front of the camera.

And if you enjoy pure country music that sounds a lot better than the over-produced crap they churn out of Nashville these days, why not head to www.jparson.com and have a listen.