Two for Tuesday

How One Regular Joe Became A 90s Country Legend

• Michael Pezent • Season 1 • Episode 29

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 This episode of The Two for Tuesday Podcast takes a heartfelt look at country legend Joe Diffie. From his Oklahoma upbringing to the stories behind “Ships That Don’t Come In” and “Pickup Man,” we explore the songs, struggles, and soul of a ’90s icon who left an indelible mark on country music. 

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In a smoky honky tonk on a hot Oklahoma night, a young man with a golden voice steps onto a small stage. He grips the microphone, calloused hands shaking off a day's work, and begins to sing. The room falls silent. His voice carries the heart of the heartland. Equal parts Sunday morning soul and Saturday night fun. In that moment, Joe Diffie isn't just singing to the patrons of a roadside bar. He's singing to all of us, the lovers and the dreamers, the pickup truck cowboys, and the everyday folks waiting on ships that don't come in. Little does he know this Oklahoma son is on the cusp of becoming a 90s country legend with songs that will make us laugh, shed a tear, and remember what truly matters.

SPEAKER_01:

Hello, friends, and welcome to the Two for Tuesday podcast brought to you by Second Round Music, where each week we pull back the curtain on the music that made us. I'm your host, Mike Bazan, and today we're exploring the life and music of Joe Diffie, a country artist who captured the spirit of the American every man. In this episode, we'll journey through Joe Diffie's upbringing, his early influences, witness his rise to fame on the national stage, and dive deep into two of his most iconic songs: the poignant ballad, Ships That Don't Come In, and the Rockin' Anthem, Pickup Man. And by the end of our time together, you'll understand how Joe Diffie's music, with a blend of honky tonk humor and heartfelt honesty, helped shape the soundtrack of our lives. Now, before we get started on today's episode, I want to take a minute to say that I hope you enjoyed Chris Allen, my guest host from last week. And he'll probably take another guest appearance somewhere down the road. So be looking forward. Now let's take a pause and listen to an important message, and I'll see you on the other side. Are you ready to take control of your finances and build a brighter future? Are you sick and tired of being sick and tired, feeling broke all the time? My name is Michael Pazin, a certified master coach, and I created second-round financial to provide personalized financial coaching based on the proven principles of Dave Ramsey, seven baby steps. Our services include but are not limited to one-on-one financial coaching through student conference or face-to-face, budgeting strategies, debt reduction plans, emergency fund creation, retirement planning, and investment guidance. But watch you test because we believe in empowering our clients with the knowledge and tools they need to achieve financial peace. With our guidance, you'll gain clarity over your financial situation. Develop a realistic and achievable plan, and experience hope and confidence in your financial future. I have over 15 years' experience teaching and guiding families in the Ramsey projects, along with a degree in finance and work experience in the banking and insurance industries. So let's get started today. Go to secondroundfinancial.com and click Book Now to schedule your free consultation today. And we're back. But before we jump in, I do want to let you know that Second Round Financial will be running a special all month in January. Not only will you get a free consultation, which we always do, but you'll also get your first coaching session for free if you purchase a 12-month of monthly coaching session. Now just head over to secondroundfinancial.com for details. Now to understand Joe Diffie's music, we got to go back to the places and the people that shaped him. Joe Logan Diffie Jr. was born December 28, 1958, in Tulsa, Oklahoma. And he was born into a deeply musical family. His father, Joe Sr., played guitar and banjo, and his mother, Flora, was a gifted singer. Some of Joe's earliest memories were the family's back porch picking sessions, multi-generational country jam sessions under the Oklahoma sky. And it was no surprise then that young Joe would join in. At just four years old, he gave his first public performance, confidently singing You Are My Sunshine with his aunt's country band. And the experience lit a fire in him. The music was just in his blood. But Joe's childhood was anything but subtle. His father's work as a teacher, a rancher, a truck driver, and a welder kept the family on the move across the country. And by the time Joe was in grade school, he had lived in Texas, then far off Washington state, then up north in Wisconsin, before returning to Oklahoma in his teens. And each new home brought new sights and sounds. And in Texas, he soaked up the strains of Western swing and long star country. In the Pacific Northwest, he encountered rock and folk influences, and in Wisconsin's heartland, he felt the loneliness of being a kid. And that was a feeling he later poured into his more introspective song about longing and belonging. And through all the moves, one thing remained constant. Joe always found refuge in music. He'd sing along to his dad's record collection and hop on stage with Aunt Don and Nita's band whenever he could. A transient life gave Joe a deeper understanding of ordinary people's struggles and dreams, themes that would permeate his music. By high school, back in a small Oklahoma town called Velma, Joe had grown into an all-American boy. He played football, baseball, played golf, ran track, and he even earned the title of Best All Around Male Athlete his senior year. Boy didn't expect Joe to be the athletic type. Anyway, even as he excelled in sports, Joe never gave up on music. And he spent weekends not just at practice, but also jamming in a garage rock band called The Blitz, blasting covers of deep purple and Z Z top for classmates. Imagine Joe Diffie, future country star, as a teenager in the 70s with shaggy hair, rocking out to heavy guitar ribs. That teenage rock and roll streak instilled in him a love, a showmanship, and a wide musical palette from stone cold country to southern rock. This versatility we'd later hear in his records. Now, after high school, Joe tried following a more traditional path, and he enrolled in Cameron University, initially eyeing a career in medicine, but life had other plans. And he fell in love and married at just the age of 18 in 1977. And soon the responsibilities of the young family pressed on him. Joe left college before graduating, and in true working class fashion, he took whatever job he could to pay the bills, working long, gritty hours in the Oklahoma oil fields, driving a cement truck in the oil patches of Texas, and sweating in an iron foundry back in Oklahoma. By day he was a laborer in steel toed boots, but by night he was a musician with dreams still flickering. Even as he labored, Joe never abandoned music. In his off hours alongside his father, he built a small recording studio fittingly named Southwind. And he cobbled it all together right by himself. Thereafter, clocking out from the founder, Joe would fine-tune the song spinning in his head. And he joined a gospel group called Higher Purpose, and he sang the Lord's praises in rich harmony on Sundays. And he also fronted a bluegrass band called Special Edition, where his country roots truly flourished. And in 1983, Special Edition recorded an album called Sweet Alice Chalmers. Now that's a nod to the classic orange tractors. Joe's voice ringing clear on lively bluegrass numbers and heartfelt covers of George Jones Country Tunes. Now they even cut a second album in 1985. All the Good Times Are Past and Gone, which featured a couple of Joe's own compositions. Now those records, released on a tiny label and recorded right there in Joe's homemade studio, didn't turn him into a star, but they earned him a reputation around Oklahoma as a genuine talent. As a guy who could pick a guitar, bend a bluegrass harmony, and write a pretty dead gun good country song, too. Now Joe's foray into songwriting was starting to pay small dividends. And he mailed demo tapes of his songs to Nashville publishers, hoping somebody might listen. Well, lo and behold, country legend Hank Thompson picked up one of Joe's tunes, Love on the Rocks, and he recorded it. Around the same time, Randy Travis, he was one of the hottest news stars in country music at the time, put a hold on another Diffie song, meaning that he was considering recording it. And that kind of interest was a huge encouragement. But just when it seemed Joe's music dreams might spark, life dealt him a heavy hand. And in 1986, the Iron Foundry where he worked shut down, leaving Joe unemployed. Financial stress mounted, and ultimately he had to declare bankruptcy, even selling off his beloved recording studio to pay debts. Around the same turbulent time, his first marriage fell apart, and his wife left, taking their two children with her. Joe Diffy found himself in his late twenties, jobless, heartbroken, and struggling with bounce of depression. And it was an incredibly dark period. And he might have given up on music entirely, but sometimes when you hit bottom, that's when you decide to risk it all on your dreams. And in late 1986, Joe made a faithful decision. He'd pack up and head to Nashville, the music city, and take one last shot at doing what he loved. In Nashville, he lived a true country music cliche, working by day to survive, writing and singing by night. Joe took a job at Gibson Guitar Factory, sanding and varnishing guitars for other musicians to play. And by evening, he was hustling around town with his guitar and his demos, and he knocked on doors at the publishing houses and producers' offices. And he quickly became known as one of the best demo singers in town. That is, a vocalist hired to sing songwriters' new songs on demo recordings to pitch to artists. Now Joe could mimic styles or deliver a song with such polish that writers loved to use it. And some weeks he had four or five demos a day. And once he managed to sing twelve songs in a single day. Those long days in demo studio were essentially Joe's apprenticeship. And he learned how to deliver a song on the first tape, how to convey emotion quickly, and he met countless songwriters, industry folks, building a network. Well, eventually, his songwriting talent also got a foothold. And in 1988, he signed a songwriter's contract with Forest Hills Publishing. Now this meant a small, steady paycheck to write songs, co-write with others, and keep churning out demos. And for the next few years, Joe wrote prolifically, and he often lent his voice to demo recordings of songs that would become hits for others. He even sang on the demo of the song called There Goes My Heart, which Holly Dunn turned into a top five country hit in 1989. And you can actually hear Joe's harmony vocals on her finished record. And he also penned songs that artists like Charlie Pride, Conway Tweedy, Tracy Lawrence, and Doug Stone would record. The pieces were falling into place, and Joe Diffie was quietly becoming a behind-the-scenes force in Nashville. Well, then came his big break that every demo singer dreams of. One of Joe's champions in Nashville was a man named Bob Montgomery, a respected songwriter and producer who had once been Buddy Holly's collaborator. In the late 1980s, Bob Montgomery was the head of AR and Epic Records and was on the lookout for fresh talent. And he had heard Joe's demos and was struck by that voice, a rich, soulful tenor with incredible range, and equally comfortable on sad ballads and up tipo tunes. Montgomery believed strongly in Joe Diffie. And in 1989 he signed Joe to Epic Records as a recording artist. And that Joe was about to go from making demos for other singers to cutting hits of his own. And in the summer of 1990, Joe Diffie entered the studio as the artist this time. This was to record his debut single, Home. The song, a slow, reflective ballad, told of a man's nostalgic memories of a simple childhood home. And it showcased Joe's tender storytelling side. When Home hit country radio, it struck a chord, and listeners loved its sincerity and the soaring way that Joe delivered it. And by late 1990, Holm reached number one on the Billboard Hot Country chart, staying at the top for two weeks. It was an astonishing debut. Joe Diffie had arrived, seemingly overnight, as a new voice of country music's new traditionalist era. And by age 32, he decided after decades of hard work and heartbreak, Joe was an overnight success, years in the making. Now his first album titled A Thousand Winding Roads, which is a fitting name for his journey, produced a string of hits. Country fans fell in love with Joe's smooth yet emotive voice. His second single, If You Want Me To, was a Weepy Country Heartbreaker that climbed to number two. Then he showed his upbeat side with If the Devil Danced in Empty Pockets, a clever, danceable tune that gave Joe his second number one hit in 1991. And by this point, critics were already calling Joe Diffie a singer-singer, someone who could tackle hardcore country ballads or western swing romps with equal ease. He even humorously titled his second album, Regular Joe, released in early 1992 to emphasize his everyman persona. Joe often said he saw himself not as a superstar, but simply a guy fortunate enough to make a living playing music. And audiences loved that about him. In an era of exploding arena acts, Joe Diffie remained the down-to-earth country boy with a big voice and a bigger heart. Through 1992 and 1993, Diffie's career kept rising. His Honky Tonk Attitude album in 1993, and then Third Rock from the Sun in 1994 turned out hit after hit from barroom anthems like Honky Talk Attitude and the irresistibly silly John Deere Green to emotional ballads like So Help Me Girl. And he became known for novelty songs with a sense of humor, earning the affectionate nickname of Joe Diddy from some in Nashville with a penchant for fun hits. And he also continuously delivered serious, high-quality country songs that proved his medal as one of the genre's best vocals. And by 1993, he was invited to join the Grand Ole Opera, a crowning achievement that recognized him as part of country music's beloved tradition. On stage at the Opry, Joe stood alongside legends and held his own with it, with that easy charm and powerhouse voice. Yet even at the height of the fame, Joe Diffie stayed a regular Joe. He toured relentlessly with his band, aptly named the Heartbreak Highway Band, playing fairs, festivals, and hockey talks across America. Night after night, he belt out hits that had become sing-along favorites. Meanwhile, behind the scenes, the early 90s country music landscape was changing, and the genre was exploding in popularity, often called 90s country button, with superstars like Garth Brooks, Shania Twain, and Brooks and Dunn. Joe Diffie may not have reached Garth level stardom, but he was a consistent presence at the top of the charts and on country radio playlist. In fact, from 1990 through 1995, he amassed a string of five number one country singles and numerous top five hits. Songs like Home, If the Devil Dance, Third Rock from the Sun, Pick Up Man, and Bigger Than the Beatles all hit that coveted number one spot, making Joe one of the defining voices of the decade. Fans loved how authentic he was. He sang about what he knew: small towns, big dreams, good-hearted drunks, and everyday romance. A kind of blue-collar poetry country music was built on. And by the mid-1990s, Joe Diffie's place in country music was secure. Little did he know, two very different songs, one a soulful ballad born from personal reflection, and the other a tongue-in-cheek up tempo number, would come to define the duality of his orestry. This brings us to the heart of today's episode. The stories behind those songs. Let's take our first deep dive. A gem from 1992 that showcases Joe Diffie's ability to touch listeners' hearts. Now Ships That Don't Come In was not written by Joe Diffie himself, but by two Nashville songsmiths. Dave Gibson and Paul Nelson. Now the partnership between Gibson and Nelson turned out to be magic. As it happens, the day they wrote Ships was the first time they'd ever sat down to write together. And according to songwriter Dave Gibson, he and Paul were initially working on a completely different song idea, but it just wasn't clicking. Now, frustrated, Gibson stopped and told Nelson, I know you got something better in that notebook of yours. Nelson hesitated, but he mentioned the title he jotted down in his book, Ships That Don't Come In. And Gibson's eyes lit up. What a killer idea, he thought. Two writers began to talk about what that phrase could mean. And to them, it invoked missed opportunities. The people who wait and wait for good fortune or a dream that never materializes. And they wanted to capture a sense of heartache, but also gratitude, a realization that even if life doesn't give you everything you hoped for, you should be thankful for what you have. And in a burst of inspiration, Gibson later would call it a gift from God. I agree with that. They penned the song in a couple of hours. Gibson strummed the melody as Nelson offered up lives he had been holding on to. And by the end, they had crafted a heart-wrenching narrative. A young man and an old war veteran sharing drinks in a bar, telling stories of regret and roads not taken, and finally toasting to those who wait forever for ships that don't come in. Now, one poignant detail in the lyrics nearly derailed this song's chances. A single off-color word you didn't typically hear in Country Song. And in the second verse, the lyric went, We betcha about a dollar when there's those without a dime. This blunt choice of words that I just read through, meaning to complain, gave some in the industry pause. In fact, Gibson later revealed that for a while no one would record the song because of that one word. And it was pitched at huge stars like Alabama and the Oprah's boys. But their producers worried country music wouldn't play the song that said, well, you know, even in its context. This was uncharted territory. And by the late 80s, no major country hit had used that particular word on air. But Dave Gibson and Paul Nelson believed in their song so strongly they refused to change the lyric, and they felt it was honest. People don't gripe about small things unaware of other real hardships. This was the whole point of the line. So then enter Joe Diffie. And by 1992, Joe was coming off of running successful singles and looking for standout material for his second album, Regular Joe. His producer, Bob Montgomery, heard Ships That Don't Come In and was deeply moved by it. And so was Joe. Now here was a chance to show a more serious side of Diffie's artistry to prove that he could deliver a career song with the gravitas of classics by Haggard and Jones. And they decided to cut the song with the lyric intact. It was a brave move, but it was one that paid off. Now recording ships that don't come in took place during the sessions for the regular Joe Album in late 1991. The studio that was chosen was the Bennett House in Franklin, Tennessee, just south of Nashville. And it's a historic old house turned into a recording studio with its wood panel rooms, provided worn acoustics for country battles. Under the guidance of the producers Bob Montgomery and Johnny Slate, Joe Diffie assembled some of Nashville's finest session musicians to bring the song to life. The lineup consisted of music legends like Jerry Douglas on the Dobro, Hall of Fame fiddle player Robert Jenkins, whose name's been mentioned several times in this podcast, Hall of Fame pedal steel player Paul Franklin, and the most recorded session guitarist of all time, Brent Mason. One notable moment in the song's climax: Diffie holds a sustained high note in the word forever in the final chorus. It's a challenging vocal feat, but Joe nails it with power and clarity. In fact, when Joe performed the song live at an award show in 1992, that glorious high note drew an audible gasp and cheers from the audience. He could hold it seemingly endlessly. That's a mark of Joe's gospel honed pipes and years of singing and smoky clubs. He had both the technique and the soul. Released on Epic Records as part of the regular Joe album, the song carried the label's full support. Epic, known for nurturing traditional leaning artists like Diffie, allowed the song to shine without adding any pop over production. And the final recording of Ships That Don't Come In runs about 3 minutes and 39 seconds. Every second is filled with authenticity. Serving as the second single from Joe's regular Joe album. At the time, Joe had just come off a lighter hit Is It Cold in Here and now surprised radio with a somber tune. As the song made its way to radio stations, any concern about the one controversial word quickly evaporated. Most DJs didn't censor it, and they understood the context. In fact, the lyric's frankness may have even caught listeners' attention. Here was a country song willing to be a little bit more real than usual. The track entered the Billboard Hot Country single and tracks chart in April and steadily climbed. And by July 1992, ships that don't come in had sailed all the way to the top five, peaking at number five on the Billboard chart. And it charted for 20 weeks, a sign of its strong radio longevity. For a ballad in an era dominated by line dance apples, this was a strong showing. Ships proved that Joe Diffie wasn't going to be pigeonholed just as the guy who sings fond songs. He could deliver artistry. Critics praised the song's sincerity. Country Universe, in retrospect, called it an extraordinary ballad, moving, empathetic, and more than a little heartbreaking. Noting that the message was appreciating the opportunities one has, even as others never get theirs. And that was especially resonant during the early 1990s recession that many Americans were experiencing. And indeed, like other great songs of that period, think Feed Jake, a song by Confederate Railroad, or Cafe on the Corn by Sergeant Brown, it spoke to hard times and hope. But Diffie's hit was one that made it to the very top among those other songs, underscoring its broad appeal. Now, sales-wise, ships that don't come in helped the regular Joe album achieve goal certification by the RIAA. And the song became a staple of Diffie's repertoire. Every concert fans would be waiting for the moment that he would sing for those who wait forever and that big note, and he delivered every time. Though Ships didn't win any major awards, it wasn't the CMA Song of the Year or anything like that. It did garner something perhaps more enduring. Deep admiration from the country music community. It further submitted Joe's credibility as a top-notch vocalist, and in 1993, Joe was invited to perform Ships That Don't Come In on National Television at the Academy of Country Music Awards. Standing under the spotlight in a black cowboy hat, he gave a stunning performance. One could hear a pin drop as he sang until that final note, when the audience erupted in applause. Such moments showed Diffie's peers and fans alike held a song in high esteem. Now over the decades, Ships That Don't Come In has remained one of Joe Diffie's most beloved songs, particularly among those who appreciate the storytelling tradition of country music. Its legacy is found in the quiet impact it had on listeners' lives, sometimes in remarkable ways. For instance, country artist John Barry, known for his 1994 hit Your Love Amazes Me, vividly recalls hearing ships that don't come in on his truck radio one night in 1992 and being so inspired by its message that he decided to pursue a record deal in Nashville. Barry was playing club gigs around Georgia at the time, and he says that when he heard Joe sing, those who stand on empty shores and spit into the wind, and those who wait forever for ships that don't come in, it hit him hard. And he realized he didn't want to be one of those peoples whose dreams never arrived. And he went home and told his wife, we need to make a change. And soon after he started knocking on doors in Nashville, much like Joe had. And in the years after its release, many up-and-coming country artists look at Joe Diffie as an influence, and often this was the song they point to. Jason Al Dean, for example, who was a teenager in the 90s, would later reference Joe Diffie repeatedly, even dedicating a song called 1994 to celebrating Diffie's hits. Contemporary stars like Luke Combs and Ashley McBride have spoken about loving Diffie's catalog, and it's songs like this that show why. Combs, in particular, admired the honesty in Diffie's music. Perhaps one of the most touching tributes to the legacy of ships that don't come in came long after Joe had left the peak of the charts. In 2020, Joe Diffie tragically passed away at the age of 61 from complications of COVID-19, becoming one of the first high-profile country artists to fall victim to that pandemic. The country music world was heartbroken, and in the wake of his death, many fans and artists replayed Joe's songs in tribute. While a lot of people cranked up the fun hits like Pick Up Man and John Deere Green, others were drawn to the wisdom and comfort of ships that don't come in. And it was a song about loss and gratitude, which felt painfully out. Then in early 2024, something remarkable happened. Toby Key, a fellow Oklahoman and country superstar, and Luke Combs, one of today's biggest stars, joined their voices on a new rendition of Ships That Don't Come In. This was part of a project called Hickstape, Volume 3. And this was a tribute that paired contemporary artists with Joe Diffie's archive vocals in famous songs. Toby Keith, who was battling serious illness himself, recorded his part as a final love letter to his late friend Joe Diffie. And in fact, it turned out to be Toby Keith's last ever studio recording before he passed away in 2024. When this duet was released and then featured on an NBC special honoring Toby Key, audiences were incredibly moved. Seeing a visibly frail Toby Key summoning the strength to sing this song alongside Luke Comb, with Joe Diffie's original vocals woven in, was a full circle moment. It showed a spotlight back on Ships That Don't Come In more than 30 years after it was written, underlining how enduring its message is. Dave Gibson, a song's co-writer, said he had to pinch himself. After all of these years, the song might find a whole new audience through his collaboration. To this day, Ships That Don't Come In is frequently cited as one of the great country ballads of the 1990s, and it showcased Joe Diffie's range not just as a vocalist but as an artist who respected a great song when he found one, and who had the courage to record something profound even when others shied away. It was proved that country music at its best gives us stories with lessons, and in this case, the lesson is delivered by an old man in a bar in a song. Life's tough and full of disappointments, but we honor those who didn't get the chances that we got. And as fans, we raise a glass to Joe Diffie for bringing us this beautiful tune. But Joe's story isn't all tears and reflection. He also knew how to have a good time. And in fact, just a couple of years after ships touched so many hearts, Joe would hit the airwaves with a song that had everyone tapping their feet and laughing along. To see the other side of Joe Diffie's musical coin, let's move to our second deep dive song, The Joyous No Holes Barred Hit, Pickup Man. The origins of Pickup Man lie once again not with Joe Diffie, but with two country songwriters known for their wit, Carrie Kurt Phillips and Howard Purdue. And by the mid-90s, Carrie Kurt Phillips in particular had a knack for crafting clever country lyrics. And he wrote or co-wrote several hits with humor. For example, he later co-write Tim McGraw's playful Down on the Farm. Now for Pickup Man, Phillips and Purdue drew inspiration from a classic country music stable, the pickup truck. Trucks have long been celebrated in country songs as symbols of freedom, work, and country boy charm. But these writers came up with a fresh twist, a cheeky double meaning of pickup man. In everyday terms, a pickup man might simply mean a guy who drives a pickup truck. But in dating Lingo, to pick up someone is to successfully attract them for a date. Now with a grin, the songwriters combine those two ideas. And what if they mused? Driving a pickup truck made you literally a pickup man with the ladies. That humorous premise opened the floodgates for a series of brilliantly funny lines. Phillips and Purdue filled the lyric with tongue-in-cheek brags from a narrator who claims his trusty truck is the ultimate chick magnet. Now consider the opening lines. I got my first truck when I was three, drove a hundred thousand miles on my knees. The image of a titler zooming around on a toy truck sets the lighthearted tone immediately. And by the time the song gets to the famous chorus hook, you can set my truck on fire and roll it down the hill. And I still wouldn't trade it for a coupe de ville. You know you're in for a fun ride. And one of the most quoted lines of the song met all my wives in traffic jams. There's just something women like about a pickup man. It's a laugh out loud lyric, exaggerating that this character's been married multiple times thanks to the allure of his truck. Incidentally, that line had to be a bit of an inside joke. Joe Diffie himself had been married a few times by then, a fact not lost on country music fans or the songwriters. And Joe was a great sport about it, and he could poke fun at himself. So when Phillips and Purdue finished writing Pickup Man, they knew they had a potential hit, and the songs Unc Tempo, Good Time Feel, and Cleverly Crafted Lyrics practically begged for an entertainer with personality. And who better than Joe Biffy? Joe had already shown his flair from novelty songs with earlier hits like Honky Talk Attitude and John Deere Green. And he had a sparkle in his voice that could sell a fun song without sounding corny. So when Pickup Man was pitched to him for his upcoming album, Joe jumped on it like, well, like a dog jumping in the bed of a pickup. And he saw that the song was a perfect match for his brand. A celebration of country living with a win. Now it's worth noting the context. By 1994, country music audiences loved these kinds of boot scooting, light-hearted songs as much as the ballads. Line dancing was in vogue. Country music videos were exploding on CMT, and a humorous song could rocket to the top just as easily as a serious one would. Joe and his team knew Pickup Man had all the ingredients for a smash hit. A catchy melody, a relatable subject, I mean Who doesn't love a pickup in Country Lane? And endless quotable lyrics. Now, Joe recorded Pickup Man as part of his fourth studio album, Third Rock from the Sun, which came out in 1994. Now, the recording took place at the Sound Shop Recording Studios in Nashville. It's a studio known for producing many 90s country hits. Now, much of the production of this song was very similar to Ship's. The producers at the helm were again Johnny Slate and Bob Montgomery. And many of the session players were the same. Brett Mason, Paul Franklin, etc. Although this time the fiddle was played by another legend, Stuart Duncan. Now the track was released under the Epic Records label, which by 1994 had fully embraced the commercial country sound. Epic's team ensured that the production of Pickup Man could compete with any hit on the radio. It's polished, but it's not overproduced. And they kept the country instrumentation front and center, resisting any urge to water it down to pop elements. And that was wise. The song's authenticity is part of its charm. Now Pickup Man rolled off the assembly line and in the country radio on October 17, 1994, and it was the second single from Joe's album, Third Rock from the Sun, following the title track, which had already been a chart topic. If Third Rock from the Sun, a chaotic rocking song about earthly misadventures, had primed the listeners, Pickup Man truly delivers the good, and the timing was perfect. Released in the fall, it wrote a wave of momentum into the holiday season and the new year. And the song shot up the charts. By December of 94, Pickup Man reached number one on Billboard's Hot Country Songs chart, giving Joe another chart topping hit. But this one did something special. It stayed at number one for four straight weeks, through late December 94 into January 95. That made Pickup Man Joe's longest lasting number one hit, and one of the longest running country number one hits of the 90s. In an era where many songs might spend one or two weeks on the top, this song held the summit for nearly a month, indicating massive airplay and popularity. In terms of sales, Pickup Man was a hit in the days when country singles were mostly measured in radio play and in album sales it generated. Third Rock from the Sun, buoyed by Pickup Man's success, achieved platinum status. Many who might not have bought Joe's earlier records went out and grabbed this one, thanks to back-to-back punch of fun hits it contained. The music video, which became a staple on CMT and TNN, also propelled the song's popularity. Filmed largely in the drive-in theater in Lewisburg, Tennessee, the video shows Diffie performing with his band on the drive-in screen while pickups roll in filled with enthusiastic country gals and guys. It even included a hilarious cameo. The same actor who played the dead man propped up in Joe's prior video, Prop Me Up Inside the Jukebox If I Die, is seen lounging in a pickup truck bed in Pickup May. A little inside joke tying Joe's fun song together. Now the video's lighthearted party atmosphere helps cement Joe's image as a good-time guy with a great sense of humor. Hey guys, thank you for listening today, and I hope you're enjoying this podcast. If you are, please subscribe or follow the podcast, click the like button, share it with other music lovers, and please consider giving it a five-star rating so we can reach a bigger audience. Now back to the show. Pickup Man left tire tracks across the country culture that are visible even today. For one, the phrase itself became synonymous with Joe Diffie. It became his nickname of sort. Fans would shout Pickup Man and show. And if he appeared on a Country Award show, odds were the house band might play at Riff and Pickup Man to introduce him. The song's enduring popularity is evident in how often it's referenced and reused. In 2005, more than a decade after its release, Appleby's restaurant chain picked Pickup Man for a national TV commercial campaign. Now they rewrote the lyrics to advertise their car side to go service, curbside pickup for takeout orders, which was a pretty clever play, since the song already had the association with vehicles and convenience. Hearing there's something women like about a pickup man on a TV ad while someone brings ribs out to a truck was a fun wink to country fans, and it showed that pickup man had permeated the mainstream enough to be used in advertising. Moreover, pickup man has become something of a country line dance standard. In countless country dance halls across America and even abroad, you'll find line dances choreographed to the song, and its steady beat and joyful spirit make it an evergreen choice to get a crowd moving. Now, when Joe Diffie passed away in 2020, tributes poured in, and nearly all of them mentioned pickup man. It's a kind of evergreen hit that even casual country listeners know. Many artists in Memorial Post quoted the lyric, There's something women like about a pickup man with a wink and a two. Because beyond the fun, for lots of them, pickup man represents an era of country music that was joyful and united people in good times. It's hard not to be in a good mood when this song's played. Now in summary, pickup man solidified Joe Diffie's legacy as a country music entertainer. If Ships That Don't Come In was Joe's bid for artistic respect, Pickup Man was his ticket to ubiquity. The song that ensured his name would always be recognized in the pantheon of country greats. Together the two songs show the remarkable predic of Joe Diffie's talent. From making us cry in our fear to making us holler with laughter. So there you have it, the story of Joe Diffie. A man who could break your heart one minute and crack a grin the next. From a backcourse singing Oklahoma kid to the demo singing scrapin' by in Nashville to the country star who gave voice to both our deepest regrets and our silliest joys. Joe's journey was winding as the roads he sang about. We've seen how his upbringing in the heartland and the years of hard work shaped an artist who was authentic to the core. A regular Joe who never forgot where he came from. And we followed him through the honky tonks and recording studios, witnessing those breakthrough moments when the world discovered what Oklahoma locals had known for years. This man can sing a country song like a few others. And we took a deep dive into ships that don't come in, a ballad that captured Joe's empathetic soul. And that song, over the cry of a steel guitar, he taught us about gratitude's remembrance, raising a glass to dream's deferred, and the unsung heroes among us. It's a song that still brings a lump to your throat, knowing now that Joe himself would face hard times and yet count his blessings. When we switched gears to pick up man, the feel-good anthem that had us all singing along, celebrating the quirks of country life, a trusty truck, a sense of humor, and a catchy chorus that refuses to quit. Through that tune, Joe reminded us that country music is also about letting loose and having fun, finding joy in everyday things like tailgates and four-wheel drives. That makes life worth living. Perhaps most poignantly, we reflect on Joe's final chapter. In March 2020, when Joe Diffy passed away at 61, the country music community mourned the loss of a genuine, down-to-earth legend. It was a shocking reminder of how fragile life is, much like the message, Ships That Don't Come In. Joe's passing during the pandemic meant we couldn't gather from the usual big public memorial. But across the nation, fans held their own tribute. People played his songs on their front porches. Radio stations did tribute to ours. And fellow artists shared stories of Joe's kindness, his humor, and his awe-inspiring voice. He had made a great living doing what he loved. And as he once humbly said, he never needed to be a huge star. He just wanted to make good music and make a decent living. A wish he could certainly fulfill many times over. Joe Diffy's legacy lives on every time a country singer with a bit of twang and a big smile steps up to a mic. Every time a clever country lyric makes us chuckle, and every time we hear a moving ballad that makes us pause and raise a glass. His songs are part of the fabric of country music history. Threads of genuine sincerity and threads of bright humor, all woven together. Whether he was singing about ships or pickup trucks, Joe was, above all, singing about real life, our lives, in a way that felt like a friend telling you a story. And so as we close this episode, we remember Joe Diffie, not just for his hits and awards, but for the heart and his music. He once sang there's something women like about a pickup man. And maybe it's true, but there was something we all liked about Joe Diffie. He was one of us, and he made music for us. So thanks for joining me today on the Two for Tuesday podcast brought to you by Second Round Music and your host, Michael Pizent, where we take a deep dive into the artists, the stories, and the songs that shape the soundtrack of our lives. And remember, we love you and we need you. And we'll see y'all next time. God bless you.