An Anthem for the Wandering Heart and the Unsung Soul
Oh, the road less traveled. Doesn’t that phrase just ring with a certain kind of truth, a beautiful ache for the days when a beat-up guitar and a thumb out on the highway were all you needed to feel rich? That’s the unmistakable resonance you find humming beneath the surface of “Old Five And Dimers Like Me,” a song forever associated with the late, great Texas troubadour, Jerry Jeff Walker. Yet, in a twist of fate that often colors the best country music, the song was actually penned by one of the true titans of the “Outlaw Country” movement, Billy Joe Shaver.
Released on Jerry Jeff Walker’s 1976 album, It’s a Good Night for Singin’, “Old Five And Dimers Like Me” was never a major chart-topper in the way his signature hit, “Mr. Bojangles,” had been a few years prior (which peaked in the pop Top 10 for the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s cover). Instead, its success was measured in the hushed reverence of listening rooms, the clinking of beer glasses in honky-tonks, and the deeply personal connection felt by generations of drifters, dreamers, and those who just never quite fit the mold. The song found its home not on the national charts, but in the heart of the burgeoning progressive country scene in Austin, Texas, cementing Walker’s status as a leading figure in that movement—a scene focused on authenticity over Nashville polish.
The story behind this iconic track is intrinsically linked to its brilliant creator, Billy Joe Shaver. The song title itself is a poignant self-descriptor. A “five and dimer” refers to the old five-and-dime stores, but in this context, it’s a metaphor for someone common, maybe a bit worn, easily overlooked—a reflection of Shaver’s own rough-and-tumble life and his identity as a working man’s poet, never quite achieving the mainstream commercial success of his contemporaries, despite his legendary songwriting prowess. Shaver was known for his autobiographical, often starkly honest lyrics, and this tune is a quintessential example. It was part of his groundbreaking debut album, Old Five and Dimers Like Me, released in 1973. Walker’s rendition, however, broadened its audience and delivered it with a slightly smoother, more reflective tone that perfectly suited his own “gypsy songman” persona.
The meaning of “Old Five And Dimers Like Me” is a deep dive into the soul of the rambling man, a bittersweet acceptance of a life lived on the fringes. It’s a quiet declaration of independence, a poetic shrug at societal expectations. The lyrics speak of leaving a comfortable life to pursue an authentic, if less stable, existence: “Nobody loved me better but I had to say goodbye / I had to leave her just to see if I could fly.” It captures the conflict between the comfort of domesticity and the call of the open road, the persistent, restless urge to roam. It’s a tribute to the freedom found in having little to lose, in valuing experience over possessions. The song suggests that a person’s worth isn’t in their bank account or status, but in the depth of their character and the stories they collect along the way. For those of us who have put a few miles on the odometer of life, it resonates as a deeply nostalgic reminder of youth, risk, and the beautiful folly of chasing a distant, uncertain horizon.