No, not like that “om” stuff. (Boy, do I sound like a redneck.) Just sitting here, barefoot, in sweats that should’ve been retired years ago, drinking a hot cup, staring out the window of my sister’s kitchen, outside of Madison MS. She’s pecking at her laptop in the next room; I’m pecking on mine, coming up from a good sleep, stretching towards the present tense and beyond. Left Nashville at 5 yesterday afternoon, 3-4 hours later than planned. Huge bulkheads of clouds to the south–didn’t really hit any real rain til I got south of Memphis. Speaking of Memphis, that billboard pitched right over the graveyard on the north side of I-40 W, around exit 35(?), has, for years, been Elvis-centric . . . ads for Graceland, etc. “Elvis is ALIVE in Memphis”, the text would read, or some such. Big pics of the King, glamour shots from the movie days, the leather jumpsuit from the ’68 comeback. Made for a nice bit of comic irony, the El presiding over the 50 headstones that populate the simple country cemetery below. According to a yellow banner on it, it is now “available”, but I can’t imagine anything else being there. Funny, yeah, but, somehow, “right”. I guess Jesus would work, though most folks advertising Jesus these days tend to forget the forgiveness and kindness part, and go straight for the hellfire half-nelson, the choke-hold of divine damnation. Don’t get me started.
Made good time, stopped twice in the whole 6 1/2 hours, but definitely felt it when I got out of the van at about 11:30–I’m guessing the neighbors could hear my knees crack. Google Maps decided to send me into the neighborhood a new way, that featured unlit pitch-black county roads with plenty of opportunities to take your vehicle airborne if you so desired, or happened to be moving faster than 35 mph. House was quiet. I loaded in, avoided the bourbon and went straight to bed.
Reloaded the CD changer in the van before leaving home: revisiting singer-songwriters (can’t get enough of those guys and gals, can ya????)–Townes Van Zandt, Steve Young (whose Rock Salt & Nails record is one mighty beautiful piece), and, of course, Sonny Boy Williamson (Rice Miller), whose lyrics can go from blues jive to something singularly powerful and nuttily poetic in a backbeat.
Tonight, you may have heard, I’m opening for Truth & Salvage Co. at Duling Hall in Jackson MS. Showtime 7:30. And tomorrow, I return to the fabulous Chickie Wah Wah in New Orleans, 8 pm. (There will be plenty of time otherwise scheduled for FOOD). Saturday I’m playing Pasadena TX, an Almost Austin house concert hosted by supreme host and ambassador Kenny Pipes, and Sunday I’m in Austin, at Threadgill’s South, playing the School Night Sessions series (8 pm), which I believe is presided over by my dear friend, Music Fog‘s Jessie Scott.
One more cup of coffee and I might just try a new theme for the site–so if things get a little sideways, well, yep, it’s my fault.