Where were YOU in 1974? & What's the point of even asking? It was a year when there was a huge explosion of counter culture creativity: music, poetry, art, etc...but the breakthroughs were not covered by the major media : a renaissance completely out of the mainstream. 1974 was the year I started getting proficient at "living on the street". I was carrying a fork in my coat pocket, in case I ran into dinner somewhere. I was drinking THE WINE, as it would come to be known in numerous songs of the day. Today it's called "homeless", but that term never occurred to me at the time. I was "on the street", a street singer, crashin around, a wanderer...that was my deal through '73, '74, & into '75. It came naturally, & sf was a good place for it. Some of the rockinest music I ever heard, was on the streetcorners '73-'74...from people I'd never seen before, or since. Right now I'm thinking of a particular wild eyed young singer guitarist named Jeff, he was out on Broadway/Columbus, was just passin' through,like everyone else. His songs were fast, loud, went on & on with a million words, I never could follow the stories but they sounded great, while a long haired rabinnical student in glasses & yamulka played wailing violin & young girls danced; then, there was the wandering African-American blues playin guitar man, who sat in a folding chair by the curb & played mambo with fingerpicks & a glass bar slide. Kathy McDonald was a rockin screamin' blues singer .(You can hear her on one of the Stone's records, I forget which one, but it rocks), well she was around town, came out & sang with us on the street one hot summer day, during the Polk Street fair . Two of the Cockettes were with her, & they danced. There were always dancers when the grooves were goin down. A huge crowd formed , we played until the cops broke it up. An old man named "Coco" played washtub bass, with a harmonica taped to the broom handle: he laid down a jazzy groove & played harmonica solos over it, he sounded sorta like Sonny Boy Williamson.

A fantastic fuckin' mess ...I'll never forget it.

74: the last gasp of the 60's , after that everything changed. . .Allen Ginsberg & Peter Orlovsky would come by while we were busking on Broadway/Columbus. Allen would make up songs on the corner "play some country blues" he 'd request. So we did & he'd spontaneously combust to it: "Stay away from the White House, it'll drive you insane" big hour long blues songs with improvised lyrics, sung anonymously for the sailors on leave, street people, strippers, & tourists.... Bob Kaufman, an old man drinking quietly in Vesuvio's or the bar at the Coffee Gallery, hands shaking..known then & now for his great poetry, one of the beats--back then he was silent, most of the time...'til he would explode. ..Saw Ramblin Jack in town, Doug Sahm was around. So was Patty Hearst....& The Zebra Killer.

The apartment manager of a place I regularly stayed at, up on Leavenworth Street, his name was Terry, he had a rockabilly haircut, nobody else had em at time but convicts, I guess, least thats what Crazy Horse Danny was sayin: "Terry's an ex con" but I for one didnt believe it..he was a good guy, came over late to borrow rolling stones AFTERMATH lp "the one with Goin Home" was what he asked me for. One mornin I saw him out front at dawn, he seemed nervous...hows it goin? "not so good" replies Terry...that night I returned to find a mob in the hallway,all three networks, full news teams, crime reporters & photographers from the Chronicle & the Examiner...they took him away, found hard evidence in his apartment .. they'd been watchin him, he was just outta the joint, a sex offender. Building manager "Terry" was the Nob Hill Rapist.

That kinda took the wind out of me for a spell.

On nights when I couldn't find a place to crash, I started goin out to a junkyard between Mill Valley & Sausalito, sleeping in an abandoned truck, groaning in my sleeping bag on cold foggy lonesome mornings by the sf bay. I was hitchiking a lot, in & out of the city over the Golden Gate. Headed North one day , bound for Portland on a whim, got picked up once, after I'd been stranded on the 101 in Ukiah for six hours, a guy & his ladyfriend stopped in their Mercedes,he was a giant buff bald guy with pointed ears & a goatee,(not that I judged him by appearances or anything) told 'em I was going to Portland & they said they would take me there...a weird ride "let me read your palm" he said: "you've had a bad childhood encounter with a snake"...I just kept my mouth shut, played dumb, they were going right by where I was headed, I'd be there in 16 hours or something, feigning stupidity or sleep, disinterest..."should we tell him who I am" they toyed with me at a stop in the redwoods wilderness. He said his name was Anton Levay...oh yeah I'd just seen his picture on the bookshelf at City Lights...later that dark night, "if somethin happened up here they wouldnt find the body for weeks" he tried to scare me...at one point on the Oregon border, stopped at a roadside bar for smokes, while he was inside, the woman turned to me & in terror revealed & shaking, crying said "Im so scared of him!" "let's ditch him, then, he left the keys!" I noticed..." He'd track me down & get me": total panic, then Anton came out & all was quiet, calm again... they were supposedly on their way to Vancouver on some evil errand involving a possesion & other necromantic hijinx... he was just a boring middleaged old fart of an international satanist tho', by the time the sun came up...was worrying about the effect of orgys on his son.....I went on a spree in Portland,etc...& got a folk singing gig in a saloon... met a nice waitress & slept on her floor...met her boyfriend in the morning ...& fell in with a murderous drunken lumberjack named Larry, who hired me on to help him roof a house. He wanted to be a rock star & gave me a ride back to sf in exchange for promises of guitar instruction. All he really wanted to do was get in street fights...I ditched him on Crazy Horse Danny, who we found back on Broadway/Columbus : I took a dive. Sorry , Danny!

I was beginning to feel a bit STRANDED : my streetsingers FREEDOM began to feel like a TRAP. I was stuck in a cycle...just makin it, barely surviving, trying to get my music together, to find a place where I could stop traipsin' & WOODSHED, you know? that's about it... you couldn't hear the guitars over traffic noise on some days...& the violence up on Broadway seemed to be getting worse......when the rainy season hit the crowds dissappeared & I tried to run for cover in the residence hotels, but that took money: a room could cost as much as 30 or forty dollars A WEEK!...& usually I didnt have it..I just started to play, practically nonstop...I was gonna just sing & play my way out of that mess...& I guess that's what happened. I wanted to.... get good. Stealin' from everybody I saw play, learning chords, songs, licks & tricks. I started writing a new batch of tunes,not that anyone much noticed, except for one guy who kept coming by, he'd be walkin' his girlfriend over to her waitress job at the Condor Club, then hang out. We went & had a smoke in a parked car on Stockton . He was starting a band called the Nerves, he had a song called 'Hangin on the Telephone', they needed a bass player. He played & sang the song in the car ...that was late 74... for me, meeting Jack Lee was the first harbinger of "the 77" thing... I was writin...playin....walkin around in the rain with my guitar on...dreamin about joinin' a band.

Whats the point?: it was a year when there was a huge explosion of counter culture creativity: music, poetry, art, etc...& the breakthroughs were not covered by the major media : a renaissance completely out of the mainstream. completely out of the mainstream. completely out of the mainstream....

Birdcalls
Louie, the drummer, loved to do birdcalls: & he was very good at them. He could do a million sound effects with just his mouth: Harley Davidsons, trombones, electric shavers, helicopters, mosquitoes, the sound of someone being run over: " ba-lump"...the entertainment was non-stop...& the rest of the Plimsouls were going nuts from being in the car, too: it was our first long tour together. During the long cross country drives to the shows, the band dozed, writhed, smoked, rolled their eyes, drank lots of beer, watched America unroll through the car windows, played cassettes of blues, soul, garage etc...and listened to each others stories over & over again.

Our road manager, Ron, was constantly holding forth on a book he intended to write, as soon as the touring was over. "It'll be titled: 'A Man & His Deeds' ", he'd say with sort of a plonking flourish, then he'd dictate a chapter at us...no one was taking any of it down, it was all lost in the air, possibly the Great American Proustian Picaresque Masterpiece...he'd go on & on...

Ron...had been on the Nerves tour with me, in 1977, and that was a weird one, something we had weathered together, so when I got the 'souls going,in '79, he was the first choice for the rm job...he was 6 foot 4, & was blessed with an insane gift of gab. Ron was a cross between a knowledgable, rock music fan, and a professional wrestler, with, as a "bonus", a strange literary bent. He had a lot of energy, was always wired up to go. He liked to relax with a good comic book and a Thin Lizzy album. And, had his own way of talking.

"Bonus" was one of Ron"s terms. So were " pounce", " swoop ", and "bo'dag": On a " pounce " the band drove straight into the new town , navigating swiftly & directly to the club...a " swoop" was basically the same as a " pounce" but involved a few minor wrong turns that were quickly amended. A "bo'dag" was a hellish & long totally wrongway-peachfuzz lost adventure, sometimes continuing for many miles and hours of navigational bewilderment.

The Plimsouls went for a lot of " bo'dags" on the '81 tour...

Once, as he drove, he described to us one of the literary theories he'd supposedly studied at the University Of Buffalo : " You got yr protaginist, you got yr antagonist, an you got yr squaznik pest"...

" Ron , what the fuck is a squaznik pest? That's bullshit!"

" No " says Ron, "the protagonist is the Hero, the antagonist is the counter force to the Hero, and the squaznik pest, that's the one who just messes with the protagonist for no reason. Take this band for example: I'm the protagonist, and Eddie's the squazz..."

Ron and Eddie were always at it...

>I quit my rock&roll band the Plimsouls in late 83: then checked into a cheap hotel in San Francisco ... & started writing songs for what would be my debut solo album...This may be a confusing tale, for I was a deeply confused 29 year old...I was coming apart at the seams...alcoholism was having it's way with me...so I went on the wagon, then fell off hard early 84...while on a cross country car delivery with Bob Forrest... In New York City, I needed to get drunk so we could get in a fist fight with each other...(sorry, Bob!)...that accomplished, well, I couldn't stop drinking again, no matter how I tried..so I cruised back to LA with my pals Bannister & Judy, ..on speed, etc...drinking & driving, disoriented, etc...blasting the Lyres track " In Motion" over and over again on the tape player in Mikes blue Mercury, as we drove and drove...from Buffalo New York in the middle of the night, through snow...down through Pennsylvania south...Ohio, Kentucky, through storms all night, sometime in the cold morning at the Ryman Auditorium, in Nashville , Tennessee, sticking our collective nose through the fence to stare at the site of so many Hank Williams Opry appearances: Once upon a time, now closed up tight ... Somewhere in there, Mike pulled out his Blaze Foley cassette: live at the Austin Outhouse: ...Austin had begun to acquire legendary musical status in my mind: all the great songwriters, Blaze & Townes & Butch ...also, my hero Doug Sahm living there, as well as the Alamo Hotel songwriters scene...I remembered the first time the Plimsouls pulled into Austin in 81...Our lead guitarist Eddie Munoz, a transplanted Austin native...points to a spot on the corner, by a fireplug, and says : " That's where Jerry Jeff was layin' the first night I met him".

We hit Austin on my 30th birthday, early in the morning of April 5, 1984. I thought it was all over...

The taxman came to get the plimsouls, we had forgotton to file for the whole duration of the band: through two record deals, countless gigs, etc...we were in deep shit, no one could believe how stupid & careless we'd been...now we were broke, but owed a fortune...not that the band had ever seen any money, a typical tale of ripoff horror from the rocknroll garage...managers, evil accountants etc...it was everyones fault but ours, know what I mean?

So we decided to get back together for one last tour. To pay the tax...

The Plimsouls were a rocknroll band, we didnt play new wave or punk, or skinny tie power pop, or any of that crap... no matter that people say those things... they didn't get it...they probably weren't even there if they're rappin that now...

All the best rock music is the sound of people playing over their heads: techically challenged musicians performing collective magic...& thats what we were all about: alone we couldn't rock our way out of a wet paper sack...together, as a band ( with endless rehearsals, gigs, on & on & on) we heated up...worked our way up into what eventually would become a complete electric lather : & we could rock the building down...

But when were in that state as a band, playing tight, explosive, wailing, levitation etc...we then all went completely nuts...it was group inspiration straight up, with an insanity back.

Whatever, you've heard that tale before: but let me give you some details: On the way to a west texas gig, in the night, I hallucinated hundreds, thousands, waves, of armadillos crossing the highway in front of my car...everyone else was asleep..

The set consisted of Plimsouls originals: from the Maximum Folk Rock of ' A Million Miles Away" ...power shuffle psycho-blues like " Magic Touch" & " Shaky City"...garage soul like "Oldest Story In the World" & a lot of covers: The Creations " Making Time" , Easybeats " Sorry", Van Morrison & Thems " Lonely Sad Eyes" ( I wished I'd written that one)...Televisions " Glory"...Flaming Groovies " Jumpin' In the Night", Dr Feelgoods " Jumpin' From Love To Love"...Moby Grapes" Fall On You", Mouse & the Traps " Lie Beg Borrow & Steal"...Equals " My Life Aint Easy"...

We did em all wrong, of course...in the best possible way.

The band flew to Texas, but I took the train, which took forever...alone in my seat staring out the window atthe endless night beyond El Paso...I wrote the song " I Shook His Hand " on that train...we began to play it that week...

Cam King from the Explosives was our host and driver...they all met me in San Antonio at the train and I jumped into the back...its July in texas and the windows in this thing have been welded shut...to prevent robbery, says Cam...its a thousand degrees...Eddie has to sit up front: he can't handle it...

Its off to Oklahoma City for the first gig...







The following is an excerpt from the road journal of my 2000 tour.

THE PLAN"S SIMPLE: fly to Seattle-connect to Spokane-meet violinist David Perales at the airport; pick up a rental car; & go play gigs in Spokane, Missoula, Calgary, Edmonton, Winnepeg, Minneapolis, Iowa City, Chicago, Pittsburgh, Louisville & Memphis; then drive over to Nashville, drop off the car, & fly home for Thanksgiving: 11 cities-14 days.

POST ELECTION USA; afternoon flight enroute to Spokane .The northwest & midwest are hard hit: the first blizzard of the year. I'm riding on a Boing 737 & daydreaming across the blue; newspapers on my lap, & this diary. I haven't written but one song since my father died in March: "give me one more mile". (memory of him-at Mercy Hospital-eyes bulging - grimaced-focused inward-transfixed-taking his last gasping breath -haunts me at times. Last night as they spoke of "the late Al Gore Sr." it came to me :-an inward jolt-is it fear? grief? - general sadness of death? -for all of us: the unknown. My children: so young ; my music: still so unrealized; marriage: now in limbo; career? onward & upward, friends: Am i ready now to truly strive? ) Watching the world from a window seat: away from the mystically protected bubble island of L.A. California to Washington.What hopes keep me going? Visions or fantasy? alchemy? unlocking hidden powers? this late in the game? breakthrough? artistically? ... personally?... culturally? Is it even possible? What factors combine with years of fears to drag down the ambitious losers. Is that what i am? {" This time I'll search for the Preasure Drops : I 'll hold out for those-then GO!-write like mad - ONLY in the Ether- Woody Guthrie in the belly of the Merchant Marine"-Christmas winter warmth/hearth fire of the self/ offered to others -acceptance of the gorillas & love like an animal: never forget the pure living joy of it . Forget the competition -stay: HERE/NOW -cunning - reaching ...imagination powers of conjuration.. & the Songs... once again soaring... in the love of Jesus.... & always befriended by the shadow.) Maybe... the odd man out ...low man on the totem pole:Butch Hancock's lesson to me in Italy... believe in the work...the artist is taken care of. I wake up as we're landing.

SPOKANE WASHINGTON -opening up a theater show for Dave Alvin tonight-Me & Perales meet at the airport- very cold-snow on the ground-i came in here on a kite-they delayed our takeoff from Seattle for an hour or so because of the storm-they had to tie on a new tail-low visibility-the co pilot was just a kid.He said" dont eat a lot of snacks-its rough over the Cascades". Show went well-good to see Alvin-Dave & his band the Guity Men- heading home from tour now-Dave says he's feeling this last one-28 cities in 30 days-thats what I think he said -I'm a little bit rusty-losing my voice like i do so often on opening nights. Me & David sit in with Dave & his crew at the end of the show-dualing fiddles & my harp on MARIE,MARIE-Brantly & David sounding like Dewey Balfa meets Bartok- Selling Cds after the show-talked to fans-up late back in the motel room getting cases organized for the trip-CNN w/the sound off-snow falling outside- now listening to election non results-then putting on Lee Perry reggae sounds-"Small Axe"- tired-I'll be ready to go to Montana in the morning.

IN CALGARY,ALBERTA -saturday november 11-long drive yesterday-we hit the road in Missoula at 9:00 after rising at eight & breakfast- bar gig the night before-a weird one -Missoula's a college town -fanatic fans -an intense feel to the whole thing-slightly drunk or CRACKED-but thank God for 'em ,you know?-we WENT OUT SINGING in the audience-made some new friends- Got up early the next morning & took the road hard for eleven hours-including the border crossing & a cafe stop in montana-mountain pass on ice-with semi trucks-slippery & blinded by the spray off the big wheels-We've been on the road one day & our car looks like someone shit on it. These drives are brutal:all wide open spaces-arctic air-rushing-hard to think-listening to Bob Marley-Roland Kirk-Lee Perry-Hendrix-Mississippi Sheiks-or JUST THE ENGINE & tires on the road- cell phone interview with journalist in Pittsburgh-calls to venue, store, distributer & home. Hard to reach anybody from way up here. Me & David take long turns driving. Confusion at the border- with a Capital C. At this point we've been in the car for seven hours -the Canadian border guards &customs agents -crew cut hockey type bruisers -want to take us out back & kill us. We pulled up at the wrong window at Customs -no one's there so we pull ahead into Canada & park the car-walk back- They see me & FREAK: "What do you think YOU'RE doing?" "Trying to get into your country" The guy makes a face like somebody sugered his beer, & yells : " Get your car & pull back around!" so i do -leaving David, who they yell at for just standing there- "WHERES YOUR VEHICLE!?" I get the car & pull it in like they say-& man it's so damn freezing out here-I'm just fading away-it makes my teeth hurt. I say to the woman at the immigration window: "We're to play in Calgary at eight" she says "Its three & a half hours away". I say "Well it only four o'clock right now". She says "But you're not through here yet" & looks away: it's a threat: & a bad atmosphere -that I'm glad was soon cleared by the gig. We missed a 5:30 "instore" in Calgary -then got to do the show which made the whole day worth it: Roddy the sound guy very friendly & helpful -Lisa meets us out front -very nice & attractive -hip kinda COMBAT BOOTS & DRESS & hair - very supportive & made the gig work even tho we were straight out of the car onto the stage -it's a groovy little theater -listening audience of a couple hundred people -good sound -we pull it together & play hard (despite the road daze) -to great response- & Lisa says it's the loudest ovation at the break they've ever heard.

TO BE A SINGER you have to have the will: to convert, to rise; & belief: in love: in home run swings; in turns of phrase & fortune; -the "small axe" chopping down a big tree: dreams will come true -prisoners will be freed -sick will be cured -lame will walk -blind will see -justice will be done -bills will be paid -eventually -starting here: The impossible will find it's solution: & all you gotta do is sing it.

RECUPERATING in hotel room alone 12 hours -very nice -outside its 10 below zero -turn up the heat for God's sake -almost back from yesterday -in 15 minutes we leave on the next leg -Edmonton tonight -I read Revelations in the Gideon -talked to Leah & Natalie -listened to beautiful Jamaican"Wingless Angels"-"enjoy yrself -its later than you think". So nice to be out of that fucking car! (& we're just getting started...) I'll be listening again - to songs? -voices? - moments of vision & music? -what dreams coming true? -what will you struggle to accomplish today?

ITS NOON AT THE LEDUC TRAVELODGE -near Edmonton -This morning we start on our drive to Winepeg -850 miles or so -weather is very cold -arctic -icy road conditions -i just fell on my ass walking down the slippery pavement outside on my way to find some breakfast. Last night at the Full Moon Folk Club - was a great one. We came on before a big audience that had never heard us ; & finished with them going bananas! The greatest feeling in the world : I don't care what anyone tells ya': IT'S PURE SEX. (well - whatever -I know we really moved'em - I felt chills myself a few times -not just the temperature i think.) We went out into the audience even though it was a fairly big room for that -& the whole thing just seemed to work tonight -including my heart. It was a full moon night -scuttering clouds -moonlight on the snow -& some of the most fun I've had all year. We were opening for Kieran Kane & Kevin Welch -they played a great & extremely long show -my favorite song they did was by a guy named John Hadley: Welch sang it -he described Hadley as his 'mentor' -he knew him from a young age in Oklahoma -it was called Long Cold Train -about "Johnny" who "lost his Mama & his Papa on the long cold train"-this happens & that happens, then he dies at the end -hes in heaven with them -they're all together again- "no more long cold train" -all over a great driving e minor to bass g chug on the guitar -original imagery & intensity & strangeness -of form & content -a great song. A lot of songwriting horsepower from these two -Welch more T-Bone-esque (he says he remembers meeting me in 1985 or 6 at T's Nashville Bluebird bluegrass gig). Welch tours alone alot - says hes into driving -& he started writing some complete songs on the road. He has a message about life intensely lived & questioned -paradises sought -dreams followed -"there'll be just two dates on yr tombstone -but all that really matters is the dash in between them -"(an observation that seems less meaningful in the light of morning -but its glibness was apologized for last night).Anyhow Welsh talked about how Hadley pushed him to work harder -& yes a lot of hard work is evident in the songwriting & playing -they were very funny as well-drunken schtick:Kieran kept leaving the stage-going outside to piss during his set-telling the 500 or so folks in the audience-"I gotta go check on my dog"-but clever too- I'd met Kieran Kane over in Ireland at a gig a few years ago.We sat in the backroom talking tonight,during the break.After a while Kevin & David came in & we all had a good time talking: sharing stories & a few laughs. Kane said his object is to play a gig that someone there will remember for the rest of their life. He spoke of seeing John Hurt in the gaslight in NY-as well as seeing Jimi Hendrix play as Jimmy James-with John Hammond Jr.-at the cafe au go go-a couple years before his fame-he says he sat right up front as Jimi played the guitar with his teeth & behind his back, & it was so exciting he went back again the next night & again sat right up front with about thirteen other people in the club-then a couple years later-a friend came over with Are You Expierienced?-& Kieran shouted"thats the guy!". Theres a big old beautiful moon on the snow-shining down through the pines- & its cold as a bitch. Prospect of numbingly long drives ahead-thoughts of low pay-feelings of futility-guilt at being away?-theyre doing fine at home-I am out here knocking' em dead-this road goes through-with Gods help-"YOU GOTTA BELIEVE"- like the 69 Mets-its going somewhere-stay engaged-who owns yr soul?-dont succomb to road mind(lessness) anymore than necessary-dont give up.Keep striving, reaching. breathing.-"try to accomplish everyday-something that youve never been able to do." Question:What is it about Canadians?

WE DRIVE & DRIVE ,then stop for gas in Moosejaw.Then we drive & drive & drive & drive & drive & drive...

SASKATOON BY NIGHT-in my room-cards-drew THE FOOL-cut the World-possibilties abound but i'm still adrift-is my purpose fast-do i really know my name?-am i taking care of my people? The cards said: "You've become much more stable-but there's trouble ahead-possible legal problems & bankruptcy"-imagine that!-"Your work will be rewarded -but with glory not gold"-(the Page of Wands i believe)-yes -im more stable but still a fool(my favorite Muddy Waters song!)-& all this applies to the songwriting too- so..." stop wasting time". I'm going to make a list of the things to do & start doing them-thats all there is to it-work through it.... Off to Winnepeg in the morn.(we're about halfway; 400 miles to go).

WE PLAY WINNEPEG & WE PLAY Minneapolis-the first:a Monday night at the club;& A GOOD MOB for Monday it is.We go down well-tho it was a weird set with a very drunk Kieran Kane on lead guitar-I invited him up on a whim-down in the dressing room: "Kieran ,do you want to play lead guitar for us tonight?" "Yeah ,man-are you serious? OK-I won't hurt you"he says- I like him-& I wanted to hang out a little more-So he brings this crazy little oud shaped guitar up & just does it. During the gig a guy in the audience shouts out"You know Joey Pataglia?" " Joey Pataglia!-I've been looking for him now 35 years!"- I go into this 3 STOOGES TYPE "Niagra falls " routine which cracks everybody up-until the guy shouts: "Well he died last Tuesday!"-which sort of puts a damper on things-Kieran starts playing Amazing Grace- & I join in on harp-a very strange moment. We leave right after the gig (after a two and a half hour set)(well first we talk to the clubowner & Kieran & his friends for a spell) & hit the road again after watching our lead guitar man nearly fall down the stairs backstage. We gas up & drive south into the states, until four am; stop for a few hours sleep at a cheap motel in Grand Forks; then up & on to Minneapolis- to an instore that was ok-then a gig to ten people-OUCH IT HURTS-it was booked too late to get a listing in the local papers-at a club no one likes to go to anymore-(our last show here-at another club- this past summer- was great)-this was a bummer-. Hit the road afterward & drive an hour south.

SUB HUMAN BLUES & depression -anger... -fear: feeling fat fried & fed up-(did I actually say to somebody on the phone " i need a hug"-sheesh!)-slept-bewailing atrophied bodily functions-stretch-listen to Buckner & Burning Spear-watch election news-read Psalms-Balthasar Gracien( the 16th century monk & my hero)-check the cards-trying to raise my resolve-for Iowa City & Chicago ...

BETWEEN THE ABYSMAL TURNOUT & my tiredness & body...after Iowa City was about to go down-but I'm making a comeback.-onward upward excelsior-( & i counted the tour receipts-we're not drowning yet)-keep working it. Patience... sleep at a Motel Six. Heater like a blow torch on my blistered vocal cords-then drive to Chicago-Mike Martt calls-that's always a good thing-REMEMBER LIFE?

THAT REMINDS ME of a night in the early 90's.I'm playing a gig in San Luis Obispo with a band called THE DRAWING BLANKS.It's a bad night for the club owner,the band ,the patrons,the club...the owner's wasted on booze & coke & he's becoming abusive: we're in his office (I'm representing the band): its after the gig & he wants to give me a cut in pay...I would've gone along with it, maybe,out of shame or pity,but he's getting out of hand,& I say "no: a deals a deal".So he gets out a stack of twenties to pay me ,& starts counting them drunkenly onto his desk:"20-40-60-80-FUCK YOU! 20-40 -60 80-FUCK YOU AGAIN"...

CHICAGO : ONE OF THOSE SHOWS where theres a great little crowd: a couple hundred people in the joint. LeRoy Marinell & his producer buddy Jim were there. Jim produces The Band: He's doing a John Martyn album-did a couple Steve Goodman albums. Roy is just a great bloke & a songwriter:me & him wrote "Two Hero's"-the epic tale of Hollywood violence & police racial profiling ,on my newest cd.My old friend from my hometown Hamburg: John Duffet was there: he flew in from Buffalo today & it's good to see him. He was my first songwriting partner-back in 1969-we used to take acid together & play coffeehouse gigs. His 20 year marriage just ended & I'm seeing & hearing more from him now. He's a sailor -takes little boats out across the ocean. He gets very drunk by the end of the evening-GUESS THAT'S WHAT SAILORS DO-everybodies drinking & having fun-they are into it- the Ramblin'Girl is here...We play well-it all goes pretty good- several encores . ( some of the songs i really love & rock on-others no:I'm starting to hear a new thing I want to do: thats how it always starts: & its starting again. my faves are-Two heros-poor old tom-drunkards harmony-on the way downtown-until the next time-beyond the blues-hidden love-still playing-cold trail blues-but I'm getting signals on a new way to go.) I can be very hard on myself-i was tonight-i felt cut off. I remember feeling that way on stage with the Plimsouls in 1981-did we play Lubbock that year?-it was in Lubbock-I had this same feeling of being at the edge-fed up with what i was doing & there had to be something better-was that the first time i looked around & didnt dig the band? those were my first solo thoughts i suppose-tho it wasn't that formed-a type of restlessness sets in:I'm ready for something else &my minds wandersing. One guy told me the show tonight was one of the best things he'd ever seen...so there you go...

OHIO WOMAN COP:she pulls us over for speeding outside of Toledo: she's wearing makeup:is actually kind of a babe...for a cop .She handcuffs me:makes me get in the back of her car. We play twenty questions ,then she lets me go...

I should tell you about Perry Patrones rock n roll hotel in Pittsburg: & maybe i will.Anyhow this is the first time I've been in Pittsburg without getting lost:one of the benefits of steady touring. We BEELINE to the club.Play tonight with Terry Forrester-a great songwriter from Texas-& Texas legend Lloyd Maines-one of my favorite musicians & producers: He's worked on Joe Ely's best records-& the Richard Buckner Bloomed-his work on that is wonderful-so we had a great chat in the dressing room- The set itself: well the Rosebuds a really big room-the sound is very different there-but ok & the musics allright-tho' I'm battling myself tonight : something new is coming & i can feel it but its not clear yet...

ON THE PHONE HOME: If you can listen patiently to someone who's views you feel you disagree with-the inconsistencies of their viewpoint may become manifest to both you & them-often requiring no more than simple questions-quietly put -to unseat them. The time has come for me to use this technique in a big way-I'm giving too much creedence to the opposition by my objections-they betray my insecurity. This is one of the major lessons of this period-I'm gettin' it down.

Q.How to give EVERYTHING a good kick in the butt? A.write great new SONGS.

Louisville is one of my favorite towns to play: -RUDYARD KIPLING(the pub) IS PACKED-its a small joint but the folks here are very into it- humour & goodwill -( something powerful coming across-a sense of the beauty of life-companionship in the difficulties)-the reception is strong & good. Its always such a comfort & relief to just be playing-a gift I'm thankful for every single time-"even the bad times are good"-but this is a good one-nice rapport & a bunch of encores- the promoter is very drunk-starts counting "twenty forty sixty two hundred"-hey wait a minute!-old friend Joel looking at his watch as his wife beams at us- me & Joel go back to the streetsinging days of the early 70's in S.F.- I joined the Nerves & he ran off with Barnum & Bailey circus-writer Jeffrey Lee Puckett-digging the show-record store owner John of earexstacy-.

GASSING UP THE CAR AFTER MIDNIGHT -once again we drive after a show- i speak to Leah & Natalie on the cell-we leave town on 65 south-listening to Mozarts Requiem-Davids selection-beautiful & eerie -muted church like tone of the womens chorus-the men at one point scary-reminding me of the "fear of music" sensation i felt at high school library hearing Beethoven- David & I have told our entire LIFE STORIES to each other 43 TIMES! We've been touring all year:so theres been lot of time for Show & Tell. My favorite part of his story might be his tales of life as an alterboy in San Antonio-they asked him to play organ for mass & so he went up & played the theme from THE GODFATHER...It seems he's always had a combination of old world classicism & new world juvinile delinquincy in his makeup.(It's not as simple as that, of course...)

& all this day feeling incredible longing..."going BACK TO CALIFORNIA " in a couple days...O the lonliness.

MEMPHIS is next & the last target of this particular junket,BUT FIRST YOU HAVE TO TAKE YOUR CHANCES DRIVING THROUGH:

BUCKSNORT,TENNESSEE-a tree felled by TWO YAHOOS lands on the highway & almost hits our car on its way down-we're doing eighty on the interstate-its around noon-Davids driving- when I see it crashing down right in front of us!-a giant pine!-we both are screaming" AGHHHHHH! LOOK OUT!"-David swerves the car to the left at the last second & we barely get around"That nearly killed us!"-I turn to look & see the two yahoos with a power saw up on the embankment, standing by the trunk of the felled tree: they seem to be having a little chat about something. I can see the headline:"Folk Rock Singers Die in Bucksnort Tree Incident"-

Memphis- we ask someone to direct us to a good BBQ joint-& get sent to "the Cozy Corner" . Its a little out of the way-but we get there in a few minutes-its a little place-looks like its been here a long time.We're very hungry; & walking in the front door-two things become apparent: 1)this is a very popular joint with the locals; & 2) everyone in the place is close to weighing 300 pounds.So me & Dave go in & order big old sandwiches & sodas & we sit down to eat: its great delicious barbeque-something I'm not into that often-except when I'm in Memphis or Texas or so forth-so we finish eating & get into a relaxed converasation with the owner who is seated at the next table-he asks if we're from out of town & talks about music (great soul & blues & old r&b are playing in the background the entire time)-he talks about LONNIE "LISTON" SMITH (the organist!)-coming in for ribs-& Porter & Hayes(the songwriters!)-& other amazing name droppings of Memphis lore-tells us about Danny Glover "He was just here-sitting where you are right now-the man can eat!-He was here for two & a half hours-"-then he gives us the complete rundown of Mr. Glovers order-& it sounds like a pretty good session-so we're going on in this way -we tell him we're playing tonight at the High Tone-& he says Oh yeah? & all that kind of a thing-anyhow after a few minutes he goes in the backroom & comes out holding a couple toothpicks in his hand-he's standing up over me -very close-he holds the toothpicks up & says"Can you follow directions"-i say"Huh?"-& he says "Can you follow directions?" & I say "yeah-I guess" & he says "well just touch the very end of this toothpick to your tongue" -& I look & see the very end of the toothpick has a tiny dot of red on it...so I'm feeling so relaxed & good after dinner & everything-...that without thinking I say sure & I touch the toothpick to my tongue-just like he said-.I look over & David's doing it too. The second afterwards, everyone in the place starts to laugh: a woman at the next table says:"the last guy who did that,he broke down crying! Haw haw haw a grown man!" "Well its hot sauce says the owner.Takes about ten minutes to really hit you". So I feel a bit bemused at this-it doesnt seem so hot...David seems nonplussed...then I start to feel it-a faint tingling of my palate-growing quickly in.. HEAT... It been about ninety seconds & I'm ON FIRE!-I'm starting to get nervous...if this keeps up for another 9 minutes I'll need a HOSPITAL. I mean its hot.I'm starting to flip:I feel like I'm getting high as well:the whole place is laughing:a woman calls out:"Look at him! Look at his feet"-I'm moving my feet around like mad I guess-under the table-everyone in the place is having a good laugh now-pointing & shouting -David gets up & dissappears into the mens room. By now my eyes are watering,my lips are burning.my gums are pulsating -I'm in PAIN:its still growing:I look down & realize I'm up & running around in the restaurant-"WATER! WATER!" At this the owner dude gets up from his table ,wiping his eyes,& says:"Waters the last thing you need:will only make it worse:hold on a second & I'll give you something". So he ambles into the backroom-taking his time-it seems like a year & he comes back through the swinging door with a piece of Wonder Bread."Just roll this around in your mouth " he says. I do just as he says & in a few seconds get some relief:the bread soaks up the hot sauce,where the water just would have spread it around. A minute or so later & I'm pretty much back to normal. He explains:"That sauce is from peppers of my own-I been growing myself for years:they just got too strong to eat.Why,one drop of that in a pot of greens & you gotta throw the whole pot out-I used to eat it in the morning with my eggs,but they're just too hot now heh heh heh..." A few minutes later David returns."That was pretty hot" is all he says. Later on that night I tell the bartender at the Hightone that we went over to Cozy Corner for dinner. " Oh , Did he bring out the toothpicks for you?" the guy asks.

Drive to Nashville-say goodbye to Mr. Perales & he picks up his violin & goes to catch the flight back to Austin. I'm FLYING HOME now-sun going down-can almost see the ground through the clouds-tommorrow-it's Thanksgiving-The plane is packed. I called home but they were too busy-i'm lonesome & exhausted-need to sleep-but i never know quite what to do when i get back after tour-theres such a temptation to get up on the first morning & go drive 500 miles just out of habit. I want to hang with the kids & sleep-& theres so many things to think about & do. But first Im taking a day off ...see some old friends... go for a ride...play my guitar a little bit....





October 1, 2005
That poor dog across the street, he's been barking all night, his people just left him alone there...I'm wide awake in misery, can't sleep from the pain, same as every night for 3 weeks...its made me think: things are trying to get my attention: the way I've been living, haulin' the same amps, playin' the same gigs, sleepin on the same couches I was 20, 25 years ago...now I'm walkin around half speed, can't drive, headin' out on the road again this week...and glad to be doin it...but "Mondays comin like a jail on wheels" is how Joe Strummer put it...times movin forward down the rails, faster and faster...its like a strobe light: the same scenes play on my eyelids day after day:

There he goes again, he just keeps barking: Denise woke up for a second: " that poor animal"...a lot of us poor animals around these days...the murder of new orleans...

I used to think: sex against death, thats fine, but now, its the songs...the music will live...the songs that stop the night from rollin forward off the cliff, just for a second...the vision that was something more than just living according to some big city schedule, more than just taping the ends together for another month...

I was under the impression, somehow, that I was still young, still had a train to catch, might still " make it" or something...a delusion of perpetual youth...hey if you're 30 or 35, reading this: better get busy, kid! The next 15 years are the big ones if you're an artist...life starts to add up on you after that, you start needing miracles just to get the job done...