Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die: Musings From the Road (14 page)

A
PRIL
5, 1:30
P
.
M
.

We are headed to Odessa, Texas, for a show tonight.

A
PRIL
6, 12:20
A
.
M
.

Odessa was a really great crowd. Everyone came to have a good time, and I think they did.

We are now on our way to Oklahoma.

I THOUGHT ABOUT YOU, LORD

I thought about trees

And how much I’d like to climb one

I thought about friends

And how rare it is to find one

And I thought about you

The most gentle, sweet and kind one

I thought about you, Lord

I thought about you

There’s breaking news on CNN, I’ll be right back . . .

Okay, so it turns out there was an airplane that crashed into a bunch of houses. Nobody died, so that’s a good thing.

A
PRIL
6

I went for a bike ride. It’s kind of cool outside in Concho, Oklahoma—not bad, it could be worse, but I am glad we are playing inside tonight. We are playing a casino. Lana and her friend just went in to play the slots. I used to love to do that, even though I never won. They have to pay the light bills, I know, but no more with my money. Cold weather is much harder on the fans than the band. We have lights, heaters, etc., but the fans are right out there in it.

The Red Rocks Amphitheater is a good example of a perfect venue: the sound is great, and it’s a beautiful location. The altitude is a little tough to sing in, but after a while you adjust to it.

Now I have ACL Live at the Moody Theater in Austin to play in too. The sound there is amazing, and even the farthest seat is up close. For me, Austin, Texas, is hard to beat. I love hot, dry weather, and being raised in Abbott, Texas, where it can really get hot, I survive pretty well. In Austin and the Hill Country. I’m like a lizard. Bring it on!

I’m trying to stay in warm country as much as I can, like Texas, Oklahoma, and Louisiana, but Texas mostly. At some point I’ll work closer to home in Austin, San Antonio, Dallas, and Fort Worth. We are doing the Fourth of July picnic at Billy Bob’s in Fort Worth this year, and that should be a blast. The whole family will be there. It will be me, Lukas, Micah, Amy, Paula, and many more. There will be three stages inside and out. I hope it’s hot!

I might decide to do a yearlong tour overseas. Amsterdam, London, Paris, Rome, Amsterdam, Belfast, and then maybe Amsterdam again. I love Europe, because the fans are fantastic. Amsterdam is heaven. I wish Amsterdam was warmer country.

HEAVEN OR HELL

Sometimes it’s heaven

Sometimes it’s hell

And sometimes I don’t even know

Sometimes I take it as far as I can

And sometimes I don’t even go

My front tracks are headed for a cold-water well

My back tracks are covered with snow

Sometimes it’s heaven

And sometimes it’s hell

And sometimes I don’t even know

Heaven ain’t walking on a street paved with gold

And hell ain’t no mountain of fire

Heaven is lying in my sweet baby’s arms

And hell is when baby ain’t there

My front tracks are headed for a cold-water well

And my back tracks are covered with snow

Sometimes it’s heaven and sometimes it’s hell

And sometimes I don’t even know

EXERCISE

W
ork out, work out, and work out. If saying it again would convince you, I would gladly say it again . . .
Work out!
Exercise, exercise, exercise, but don’t overdo it.

If you pull a muscle, rest until you heal, then work out some more. It’s the best thing you can do for your sanity, not to mention your body. Exercise is good medicine, so follow your body—it won’t lie. Do what it says. If it says move, then move. If it says rest, then rest. It’s not that hard; your body does not lie, it does not
know how to
lie. If it hurts, it complains; if it feels good, it says, “Give me more of
this.
”

I
SEEM
TO
HAVE
BEEN
ADDICTED
TO
SOMETHING
MOST
OF
MY
LIFE
. I started out smoking cigarettes. It bears repeating that I was about six when I started smoking cedar bark and grapevine, and rolling up Bull Durham. I was trading a dozen eggs for a pack of Camels. Then I ran into beer and whiskey, pills, and then pot. By then I was twenty-five years old and my lungs were killing me. Then came Percodan and painkillers of all kinds, just to keep my lungs from hurting. So then I said to myself, “Hey, you’re not getting high on cigarettes, and they killed half your family.” They just hurt my lungs. I would take a drag off a cigarette and my lungs would kill me. So I started quitting everything. No more cigarettes at all. I started running again and getting back in shape. I took my cigarettes and threw them away. I rolled up twenty joints and put them in the cigarette package, and every time I wanted a cigarette, I smoked a hit or two off a joint instead. One joint would last all day and it worked for me. Now I use a vaporizer, because it is easier on a singer’s lungs.

A
PRIL
9

Oxford, Mississippi, is nice. We are having great weather, so I had a good bike ride today. It’s 7:56
P
.
M
.
, and almost showtime.

A
PRIL
12

Here we are in Illinois now. I spent the last several hours in a bus garage. Some kind of wheel problem. Tony and Gator got it fixed, and now we are sitting in a parking lot somewhere. Somebody on TV is talking about Rick Santorum dropping out of the presidential race. It’s a crazy time politically. All the Republicans are chopping each other up pretty hard. Romney is going be the guy, so it’s an Obama and Romney shoot-out.

“Shoot low, Shirley, she’s riding a Shetland.”

I like Obama a lot. I met him first when he was a senator from Chicago. He came to the bus and we became friends. I am also a Hillary Clinton fan, so when they both ran for president, I knew I couldn’t lose. Either way we’d win. As it turned out, Obama couldn’t do everything he wanted to, but Hillary probably couldn’t have either.

I think that once you become president, the first thing you realize is that you can’t do shit. I envision them getting the new president in a little round room and letting him know that he has no power and will do what he is told, just like Bill Hicks said, years ago. Or like my old friend B. C. Cooper used to say, “The town’s fixed, the mayor is queer, turn the crank!”

It’s kind of like Texas, where no one is in control. Texas has the right to secede from the union, and one day it might. Texas has a lot of oil, wind, sun, and plenty of other natural resources, so it would do okay, I think, but I don’t want Texas to secede from the union. Texas can help keep America moving forward. Texas farmers could help make America become more energy independent by growing our fuel and developing more of our alternative energy. We could run the world on hot air alone.

Texas is really better than we say it is. Oh, I could go on and on, but I won’t. I wrote a song about Texas . . . I called it “Texas.”

TEXAS

Listen to my song and if you want to sing along

It’s about where I belong: Texas

Sometimes far into the night

And until the morning light

I pray with all my might to be in Texas

It’s the only place for me

It’s where I want to be

Where my spirit can be free: Texas.

Lord, look what time it is. I better go to bed so I can get up again.

COULD BE EVERY DAY

W
e got Wild Bill Elliott on the TV in the back of the bus, Randi Rhodes and Mike Malloy on SiriusXM Radio, and Emmylou up front on the other station. Life is good. Rick Santorum is talking now on the radio about his sweater vest. He has a sweater vest, I have a bandanna. Cool.

Speaking of Mike Malloy, I was listening to him one night and he said, “Come on back, Jesus, and get rid of some of these bastards!” It made me think to write this song:

COME ON BACK JESUS

Come on back Jesus (come on back Jesus)

Come on back Jesus

And pick up John Wayne on the way

The world’s done gone crazy,

And it seems to get worse every day

So come on back Jesus,

And pick up John Wayne on the way

Time to take off the glove

They just don’t respect peace anymore

But if we have old John Wayne

We know he can swing from the floor

While he kicks their butt

We’ll just stand there and watch him and pray

So come on back Jesus,

And pick up John Wayne on the way

Come on back Jesus (come on back Jesus)

Come on back Jesus

And pick up John Wayne on the way

The world’s gettin’ crazy,

And it seems to get worse every day

So come on back Jesus,

And pick up John Wayne on the way

It’s getting real hairy

If only old duke man was here

He’d call me old bastard

From out past the atmosphere

Lord the news looked so scary

When I glanced at the paper today

So come on back Jesus,

And pick up John Wayne on the way

Come on back Jesus (come on back Jesus)

Come on back Jesus

And pick up John Wayne on the way

The world’s gettin’ crazy,

And it seems to get worse every day

So come on back Jesus,

And pick up John Wayne on the way

Come on back Jesus, come on back Jesus

Come on back Jesus

And pick up John Wayne on the way

W
HAT
DO
YOU
CALL
A
GUITAR
PLAYER
WITHOUT
A
GIRLFRIEND
? Homeless. One of the main reasons I played guitar was because the girls liked guitar players, and I liked girls. I had a fan club when I was in high school, so you see why I’m so conceited. Wait, I said that already. Seriously, I’m really not conceited at all. If you don’t believe I’m good, just ask me . . . just kidding.

HERO

Where is our hero tonight

The bars are all booming and he’s nowhere in sight

Wherever he is Lord I hope he’s alright

Where is our hero tonight

He used to be king of the bars

He’s opened and closed ’em from Waco to Mars

Now he sings in the street and he sleeps in his car

But he used to be king of the bars

Where is our hero tonight

He left here at midnight he was high as a kite

Wherever he is Lord we hope he’s alright

Where is our hero tonight

And where is our hero today

Can we just tag along we’ll stay out of his way

Does he still write the sad songs

And can he still play

Where is our hero today

I
LOVE
R
ACHEL
M
ADDOW
. S
HE
IS
ON
TV
NOW
WITH
M
AYOR
A
NTONIO
Villaraigosa. They are taking about same-sex marriage and Obama, etc. It’s pretty cool, and a good MSNBC program. Okay, now what? Oh, Rachel is on Leno tonight. I’ll have to watch her again.

PHASES AND STAGES/WASHING
THE DISHES

Phases and stages circles and cycles and scenes that we’ve all seen before

Let me tell you some more

Washing the dishes scrubbing the floors

Caring for someone who don’t care anymore

Learning to hate all the things that she once loved to do

Like washing his shirts and never complaining except of red stains on the collars

Ironin’ and cryin’ cryin’ and ironin’ caring for someone who don’t care anymore

Someday she’ll just walk away

Phases and stages circles and cycles scenes that we’ve all seen before

Let me tell you some more

SOMEBODY PICK UP MY PIECES

Somebody pick up my pieces

I’m scattered everywhere

And put me back together

And put me way over there

Take me out of contention

I surrender my crown

So somebody pick up my pieces

It’s just me comin’ down

Well, I sure thought I had her

Lord, I know she had me