Am I still here?
The traveling life, it's my heaven. Sometimes I think, did I die? Like, maybe this is my unconscious having a little fun post-Jonnie. Because all the good things just fall into my lap without a lot of effort. I'm lucky to live this way. I'm grateful for every minute, even the minutes when the neighbors play metal too loud. Ha.
Especially good mood? Maybe. I'm still coming down from seeing Todd play last night at the Paramount Theater in Bristol, TN. He is magical. This was-- I think -- my eighth Todd show. I've lost track. I've seen him in Nebraska, Colorado, Missouri, and now Tennesee for the second time (saw him three times in Nashville a year or so ago). Next stop, Pennsylvania! Got a ticket from someone on the fan group page. Can't wait.
I wish I could give meaningful words to what happened last night. I've always been touched by his presence, but somehow I really felt the magic at this one. I got to Bristol two days ago, visited the Birthplace of Country Music Museum (nothing to shout about, I'm sorry to say)-- the people who work there are totally sweet, and this museum has great intentions, but it's just... hmmm. I got to see June Carter Cash's signature on a Martin guitar though. That was probably worth the $14 entry fee. Maybe. Here's what it is-- it's mansplaining... like just taking a hugely practical approach to telling you the history of country music and the Bristol Sessions, and I feel like-- it could just use some whimsy. I visited a 60s/70s counterculture exhibit in Santa Fe last January, and this museum could take a few notes from the curator of that show. The whole thing just sucked you in, gave life to Wavy Gravy and VW buses and the writing of Alan Watts. This museum could use a little more of that-- like, just let freakin' June Carter Cash be a whole exhibit, with video. She's so winning, so incredibly talented and funny; even though I never saw her in person, I certainly didn't envy Reese having to play her-- she's a magical character; it's tough to put yourself in a magical character's shoes and have it come off as convincing. Reese, though, she rocked it. Imagine finding someone to play Dolly Parton. Its like that with June. You JUST CAN'T BE June or Dolly. They're practically mythical creatures. I digress, again. And again. And again.
Post museum, I ate at Eatz, and holy cow. The catfish completely rocks. It was amazing. Collard greens, the side I picked, I feel like that may be an acquired taste. I'd never had them, so I figured what the heck. It's got some appeal; you'd never mistake it for anything else. I like food like that. I like people like that too.
I'm staying at a campground near the Bristol Motor Speedway. I could kick myself square in the ass for this choice, but I couldn't find a place with an opening, so I took the first one that gave me a yes. It's not terrible, by any means, but there's a state park just up the road on the other side of Bristol, and it's magically beautiful. Note to self: less private lots (where we're crammed in here like anchovies in a can) and more state and national parks. State and national parks are cheaper, and the people who work in them are the awesomest people you'll ever meet. And mostly the people staying in them, they're awesome too.
I visited Damascus, VA, because some dude-- while we were waiting for Eatz to open its doors, told me it is a cool little town. I had asked him about hippie towns. He'd immediately recommended Asheville, NC, of course, but I'd already been there. He said Damascus is not so hippie, but earthy. It's a place where the Appalachian Trail meets a whole bunch of other trails, including the Virginia Creeper. That seems like a weird name. Like, you hit the trail, and suddenly!-- a guy in a trenchcoat shows you some stuff you weren't really planning to see on a beautiful hike through the Smokies. Am I still in the Smokies? Not sure. They might be south of me. I'm no geographer, folks. PhDeeeee in MO-ron, more like it. But this is a preferred way to live, just naively passing through, blissfully unaware of whatever bad shit is going on. Do you feel like "they" guilt trip us? I feel like the message I've gotten for a while is that if I don't fight what the government is doing, I'm somehow a complicit piece of garbage. But I don't really see how I'm going to fight city hall. I could walk around pissed off all the time, the way arm-chair politicians do, but that seems like a rotten way to live. So I'm just going to ignore it. I'm just going to follow Todd Snider around and earn my gypsy flag, k?
I feel like experiencing bliss is good for you, and all the people around you. So why get guilted into shame and anger? Todd shines with this blissful love. It radiates from the stage and touches everyone in the audience. That's my take. It's like-- I've always wanted to see the Dalai Lama, feel that dude's presence. He's joyful, a jokester. I feel like Todd's most of the way there. His presence feels loving. I feel like John Prine's all the way there, like that must be EXACTLY what it feels like to be with the Dalai Lama. He's joyful, a merry prankster of the highest order. There's just no doubt. I'm always excited to hear from people who saw him for the first time. Like, their hair is blown back. Just a bunch of people, after his show, walking round with hair BLOWN BACK. That's how obvious it is you just witnessed Prine.
I saw Todd's bus when I arrived at the Paramount, so I walked through the alley towards it. I walked by and into The Mad Italian restaurant. Groovy little spot with a super nice owner and great food. It gets very high marks. I grab a little table between to other little tables. On the left of me, a couple holds hands and prays when they get their food. To the right of me, I overheard them tell the waiter they were on their way to see a show. "Todd?" I asked. "Yes, our first!" They were incredibly sweet and we talked for a bit about Todd and Bristol and the Paramount. The lady waiter even remarked to me about what a sweet couple they were. I was kind of excited after talking with them; I've been traveling alone and it can get a little lonely. I considered talking with the people who'd prayed to my left, when I kept noticing the guy-- his energy was weird, and he just had all this anxiety. His leg never stopped shaking up and down. I had figured them for super kind-- I feel like religious people are either SUPER kind or SUPER in need of it. They get their deep dish pizza and now he's complaining up a storm. Everything's wrong-- "Is this how this is SUPPOSED to be?" Finally, he's just giving the sweet waiter girl shit. I catch her eyeline and roll my eyes as if to say, 'don't worry about it.' I did that job for 21 years, waitressing. People can be AWFUL. I sometimes want to say, "Don't you SEE how lucky you are? Just ask them to fix whatever problem and they will; they work on tips; they're happy to help you. You're here, in a beautiful restaurant having nice food. There's people doing incredibly yucky shit right now, like getting trapped in coal mines or living in places where bombs randomly go off and shear somebody's damn leg or arm or whatever off, and you're going to complain about being in a cool place, getting a nice bite? LAME."
I had three tickets from a woman in NC who couldn't go. She asked that I be sure to give away the other two, to spread the Todd love. I walked up and down the street in front of the Paramount, meeting people going to the show. There was a boy, excited about his 3rd row seat-- he must have been about 16 maybe-- his dad explained that he'd been watching Todd on youtube and this was his first show ever. What an amazing first show!!! I'm envious of that kid. Everyone I met there was sweet, adorable. I must have met half the crowd. If you go to a show by yourself, buy an extra seat or two and try to give it/them away. It's the best way ever to meet people who are into what you're into. I didn't realize this before. I'm kind of a knucklehead. I'd been buying one ticket for years.
It's the next day and I still feel the joy. I hope I get to stay 'high' on that show for a while. Can't wait to see him again Wednesday. In the meantime, I'm going to take everyone's advice and go to another hippie town, find a lake, and get some swimming and some kayaking done.
The lady I gave the ticket to, Sue-- she owns the hippie shop next to the Paramount. She gave me some incense for the camper. Lawd knows I needed something. You live in a cramped space for a while, you need some smell good stuff. She said something I won't forget, and completely agree with: find a man who likes bluegrass and water, and you got it made! It's like she's reading my mind.
Especially good mood? Maybe. I'm still coming down from seeing Todd play last night at the Paramount Theater in Bristol, TN. He is magical. This was-- I think -- my eighth Todd show. I've lost track. I've seen him in Nebraska, Colorado, Missouri, and now Tennesee for the second time (saw him three times in Nashville a year or so ago). Next stop, Pennsylvania! Got a ticket from someone on the fan group page. Can't wait.
I wish I could give meaningful words to what happened last night. I've always been touched by his presence, but somehow I really felt the magic at this one. I got to Bristol two days ago, visited the Birthplace of Country Music Museum (nothing to shout about, I'm sorry to say)-- the people who work there are totally sweet, and this museum has great intentions, but it's just... hmmm. I got to see June Carter Cash's signature on a Martin guitar though. That was probably worth the $14 entry fee. Maybe. Here's what it is-- it's mansplaining... like just taking a hugely practical approach to telling you the history of country music and the Bristol Sessions, and I feel like-- it could just use some whimsy. I visited a 60s/70s counterculture exhibit in Santa Fe last January, and this museum could take a few notes from the curator of that show. The whole thing just sucked you in, gave life to Wavy Gravy and VW buses and the writing of Alan Watts. This museum could use a little more of that-- like, just let freakin' June Carter Cash be a whole exhibit, with video. She's so winning, so incredibly talented and funny; even though I never saw her in person, I certainly didn't envy Reese having to play her-- she's a magical character; it's tough to put yourself in a magical character's shoes and have it come off as convincing. Reese, though, she rocked it. Imagine finding someone to play Dolly Parton. Its like that with June. You JUST CAN'T BE June or Dolly. They're practically mythical creatures. I digress, again. And again. And again.
Post museum, I ate at Eatz, and holy cow. The catfish completely rocks. It was amazing. Collard greens, the side I picked, I feel like that may be an acquired taste. I'd never had them, so I figured what the heck. It's got some appeal; you'd never mistake it for anything else. I like food like that. I like people like that too.
I'm staying at a campground near the Bristol Motor Speedway. I could kick myself square in the ass for this choice, but I couldn't find a place with an opening, so I took the first one that gave me a yes. It's not terrible, by any means, but there's a state park just up the road on the other side of Bristol, and it's magically beautiful. Note to self: less private lots (where we're crammed in here like anchovies in a can) and more state and national parks. State and national parks are cheaper, and the people who work in them are the awesomest people you'll ever meet. And mostly the people staying in them, they're awesome too.
I visited Damascus, VA, because some dude-- while we were waiting for Eatz to open its doors, told me it is a cool little town. I had asked him about hippie towns. He'd immediately recommended Asheville, NC, of course, but I'd already been there. He said Damascus is not so hippie, but earthy. It's a place where the Appalachian Trail meets a whole bunch of other trails, including the Virginia Creeper. That seems like a weird name. Like, you hit the trail, and suddenly!-- a guy in a trenchcoat shows you some stuff you weren't really planning to see on a beautiful hike through the Smokies. Am I still in the Smokies? Not sure. They might be south of me. I'm no geographer, folks. PhDeeeee in MO-ron, more like it. But this is a preferred way to live, just naively passing through, blissfully unaware of whatever bad shit is going on. Do you feel like "they" guilt trip us? I feel like the message I've gotten for a while is that if I don't fight what the government is doing, I'm somehow a complicit piece of garbage. But I don't really see how I'm going to fight city hall. I could walk around pissed off all the time, the way arm-chair politicians do, but that seems like a rotten way to live. So I'm just going to ignore it. I'm just going to follow Todd Snider around and earn my gypsy flag, k?
I feel like experiencing bliss is good for you, and all the people around you. So why get guilted into shame and anger? Todd shines with this blissful love. It radiates from the stage and touches everyone in the audience. That's my take. It's like-- I've always wanted to see the Dalai Lama, feel that dude's presence. He's joyful, a jokester. I feel like Todd's most of the way there. His presence feels loving. I feel like John Prine's all the way there, like that must be EXACTLY what it feels like to be with the Dalai Lama. He's joyful, a merry prankster of the highest order. There's just no doubt. I'm always excited to hear from people who saw him for the first time. Like, their hair is blown back. Just a bunch of people, after his show, walking round with hair BLOWN BACK. That's how obvious it is you just witnessed Prine.
I saw Todd's bus when I arrived at the Paramount, so I walked through the alley towards it. I walked by and into The Mad Italian restaurant. Groovy little spot with a super nice owner and great food. It gets very high marks. I grab a little table between to other little tables. On the left of me, a couple holds hands and prays when they get their food. To the right of me, I overheard them tell the waiter they were on their way to see a show. "Todd?" I asked. "Yes, our first!" They were incredibly sweet and we talked for a bit about Todd and Bristol and the Paramount. The lady waiter even remarked to me about what a sweet couple they were. I was kind of excited after talking with them; I've been traveling alone and it can get a little lonely. I considered talking with the people who'd prayed to my left, when I kept noticing the guy-- his energy was weird, and he just had all this anxiety. His leg never stopped shaking up and down. I had figured them for super kind-- I feel like religious people are either SUPER kind or SUPER in need of it. They get their deep dish pizza and now he's complaining up a storm. Everything's wrong-- "Is this how this is SUPPOSED to be?" Finally, he's just giving the sweet waiter girl shit. I catch her eyeline and roll my eyes as if to say, 'don't worry about it.' I did that job for 21 years, waitressing. People can be AWFUL. I sometimes want to say, "Don't you SEE how lucky you are? Just ask them to fix whatever problem and they will; they work on tips; they're happy to help you. You're here, in a beautiful restaurant having nice food. There's people doing incredibly yucky shit right now, like getting trapped in coal mines or living in places where bombs randomly go off and shear somebody's damn leg or arm or whatever off, and you're going to complain about being in a cool place, getting a nice bite? LAME."
I had three tickets from a woman in NC who couldn't go. She asked that I be sure to give away the other two, to spread the Todd love. I walked up and down the street in front of the Paramount, meeting people going to the show. There was a boy, excited about his 3rd row seat-- he must have been about 16 maybe-- his dad explained that he'd been watching Todd on youtube and this was his first show ever. What an amazing first show!!! I'm envious of that kid. Everyone I met there was sweet, adorable. I must have met half the crowd. If you go to a show by yourself, buy an extra seat or two and try to give it/them away. It's the best way ever to meet people who are into what you're into. I didn't realize this before. I'm kind of a knucklehead. I'd been buying one ticket for years.
It's the next day and I still feel the joy. I hope I get to stay 'high' on that show for a while. Can't wait to see him again Wednesday. In the meantime, I'm going to take everyone's advice and go to another hippie town, find a lake, and get some swimming and some kayaking done.
The lady I gave the ticket to, Sue-- she owns the hippie shop next to the Paramount. She gave me some incense for the camper. Lawd knows I needed something. You live in a cramped space for a while, you need some smell good stuff. She said something I won't forget, and completely agree with: find a man who likes bluegrass and water, and you got it made! It's like she's reading my mind.
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