Texas Blacktop

Some of the best times of my life have been behind the windshield looking out at an empty road disappearing in the distance. The sound of tires on pavement is almost meditative, and I let my mind wander while traveling down the road. The isolation somehow invigorates me. It always has, and I imagine it always will.

Here's Fort Worth's Townes Van Zandt playing Hiram Williams' "Lost Highway."

A Tower of Knowledge

When I was knee high to a grasshopper, my dear mammy bought a set of encyclopedias for my brother and me. I was eight years old at the time, and I looked up every single thing I did not know. Considering I was only a second grader, that meant that I spent a lot of time with my head in an encyclopedia.

As a consequence of realizing how little I knew, I read very little fiction until I was about eighteen. I decided that I wasn't going to read stories that weren't real until I knew enough about things that were real. Granted, I read plenty of literature in school, but I did not read much fiction at home. At home I read biography, history, and whatever else I thought I needed to know.

While at my mammy's house last weekend, I was pleased to see those old encyclopedias in the guest bedroom. I have fond memories of that little tower of books. Much of the knowledge I have accumulated over the years came from those volumes. And yes, I am indeed a fortunate man to have a mother who understood the thirst her young son had for knowledge.

 

Back from the Hills

We had a fine long weekend in the Hill Country, which is always good for the soul. It provides a bit of hope and perspective to someone whose hometown seems to have been transformed into a vast sea of suburbs almost overnight. It was great to see stars and empty roads and to breathe fresh air.

And, of course, it is always great to see my dear mammy down in Fredericksburg. Yessirree, it is most outstanding to pull up in the driveway and see the "Willkommen" sign. That means you have arrived.

An Ice Cream Social in Luckenbach

Yesterday afternoon we met our ol' buddy Tim and his fine young family at the ice cream social in Luckenbach. Tim, Fernanda, and their young 'uns traveled the backroads from their home in San Antonio to meet us. Martina, my mother, and I cruised in from my mother's place in Fredericksburg.

Tim's son, whose favorite color is green, enjoyed mint ice cream while his daughter dined upon something with chunks of chocolate in it. My mother opted for the peach ice cream, and I took a bite of hers as a means of empirical study. Yes, ice cream was ingested, T-shirts were procured, and a lovely time was had by all on this day of sunshine, picnic tables, and music beneath the oaks.

Here are Tim's young 'uns befriending a feathered inhabitant of Luckenbach, Texas. 

    

A Decommissioned Wheelbarrow

My mother is a mover of dirt and a hauler of stone, which necessitates her to also be a pusher of wheelbarrows. So much depends, to borrow from the poet William Carlos Williams, upon a sturdy wheelbarrow.

The wheelbarrow below has now been decommissioned and serves as a piece of yard art, or "yart," at her home in Fredericksburg. So much depends on the Dada beauty of a decommissioned wheelbarrow.

  

Peanuts in Your Coke

Every now and then a snapshot image of my childhood enters my mind's eye. This evening, I could see with crystal clarity my Aunt Brenda carrying a glass bottle of Coke filled with peanuts along Azle Avenue on Fort Worth's North Side in the early seventies. We had just left Bob & Fred's Grocery, where we had bought penny candy, and were walking back to my grandparents' house. The day was hot, and the chalky dust along the side of the road rose with every footstep.

For readers unfamiliar with putting peanuts in one's Coke or Dr. Pepper, the phenomenon is apparently a southern one, though I can't recall the last time I saw someone with peanuts in their drink. Verily, it has been many years. Well, since I do not have a USB chord that will allow me to transfer the 1970s image in my mind to this blog, I will share the only song I know that references putting peanuts in one's Coke.

Here is Houston's own Barbara Mandrell singing "I Was Country When Country Wasn't Cool."

 

Watermelon Seed Spitting Record

In case you were curious, the world record for the longest distance a watermelon seed has ever been spat is held by a Texan. Yes sirree, that hallowed honor belongs to one Jason Schayot of De Leon, Texas, who spat a watermelon seed some 75 feet 2 inches in 1995. According to the Guinness Book of World Records, that is just shy of the width of an Olympic size swimming pool. The previous record was held by Lee Whillis of Luling, Texas, who spat a watermelon seed 68 feet 9 1/8 inches in 1989. The fact that the last two world record holders were from the Lone Star State leads me to believe that having the ability to spit a small object an incredible distance must be in Texans' DNA.

  

Just for grins, here's a little "Watermelon Dream" by Guy Clark.

Eponymous Vinyl

The other day I stumbled across a copy of Willis Alan Ramsey's eponymous 1972 album at a used record store. The album is Ramsey's one and only, and folks from Jimmie Dale Gilmore to Jerry Jeff Walker to the Captain and Tennille have covered songs from it. I even read that Lyle Lovett dug Ramsey so much that he bought the same kind of shoes.

After more than four decades, a second album is in the works, though a 2013 flood at Ramsey's Colorado studio was a major setback. There is a rainbow, however, because according to Ramsey's website, Gentilly, as the album will be called, was in final production this February. And considering Ramsey's preference of quality over quantity, I am sure that the album will be met with acclaim.

Here is a song from former Dallas resident Willis Alan Ramsey's self-titled album. And yes, after finding no scratches on the vinyl, I added this one to my collection.

Loose Monkey at the San Antonio Airport

An escaped monkey, originally identified as a baboon, was running around the airport in San Antonio today. This particular monkey, a rhesus macaque named Dawkins, was on his way from Brown University to the Born Free USA Primate Sanctuary in South Texas. Based on a tweet from the sanctuary, Dawkins should be back en route to his new home soon.

In my book, Waylon County:Texas Stories, a primate that enters the Wailin' Biscuit Cafe is also misidentified, and the characters discuss the difference between a monkey and a baboon. You have to love it when life and fiction decide to dance together.

Here is a link to get a copy of Waylon County: Texas Stories in case you don't have one yet.

https://www.amazon.com/Waylon-County-Stories-Heath-Dollar/dp/0998066141

She's a Good-Hearted Woman

It has been widely reported that Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson wrote the song "Good-Hearted Woman" during a poker game at the Fort Worther Motel on the South Side in 1969. "Good-Hearted Woman," which was inspired by Tina Turner's relationship with her husband Ike, has since been covered by a number of people including Guy Clark, the Czech singer Michal Tučný, and Tina Turner herself. One time Fort Worth resident Ernest Tubb even covered the song on his 1972 "Say Something Nice to Sarah" album. 

Here is the Texas Troubadour's version of "Good-Hearted Woman."

San Antonio Vocal Arts Ensemble

I first encountered the music of the San Antonio Vocal Arts Ensemble about ten years ago when Martina and I were visiting the San Antonio Museum of Art, which has one of the most comprehensive collections of Latin American art on the continent. There in the bookstore I heard the music of SAVAE and was absolutely enthralled.

The SAVAE album we purchased explores the fusion of Mesoamerican and Spanish musical traditions in the years following the Spanish Conquest. The group uses period instruments such as Aztec clay flutes known as huilicapitzli as well as native drums. A particularly interesting composition that SAVAE has brought to life is "Teponazcuicatl," which is found in the Cantares Mexicanos codex, an ancient manuscript in book form.

The song is of Aztec origin and was dedicated to the goddess of corn. It is believed that this song was played on December 26, 1531, when the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe on Juan Diego's cloak traveled from Mexico City Cathedral to Tepeyac, the place where Juan Diego met the Virgin. SAVAE used instructions from the codex and the structure of Classical Nahuatl, the Aztec language, to reconstruct the song.

Here is a video where one can see the various instruments used by the San Antonio Vocal Arts Ensemble. You may also be interested in SAVAE's recordings of ancient music from Jerusalem.

  

Making the World a Better Place

This evening I got to thinking about my mother's dear friend Maria. Maria, who passed away about four years ago, was a very interesting woman. She was a visual artist who served in the Peace Corps in Africa and brought back fascinating examples of folk art. Although she hailed from New Jersey, Maria was dedicated to native gardening here in Texas and accumulated a trove of knowledge about Texas flora. This evening when I stepped out into the yard, I stopped to admire the blooms on the goldenball leadtree growing there. Maria grew this West Texas native from seed. Standing there in the yard, I smiled and thought about Maria. Even today she is still making the world a better place.

Crack the Window Just a Hair

Back when I lived in Yellowstone National Park, a couple of young Germans I worked with came up and told me in all earnestness that of all the people they knew in Yellowstone, they understood my English the least. Of course, I can imagine why. I'd say things like, "Crack the window just a hair." If English is not your first language, that's a pretty hard phrase to unpack. "Crack" essentially means "to break," and "a hair" is something growing out of your head. These days I accommodate my speech when talking to folks whose first language is not English, but back then my language must have seemed pretty bizarre to some of the European folks working in the park.

Here's a song that contains the words "crack the window just a hair." It was playing on my stereo the first time I ever rolled into Archer City.

  

Songs About Folks Who Aren't Very Nice

When I was in my mid-twenties, I taught adult ESL in Taegu, South Korea for a while. Although I no longer remember the lesson objective, one day I played my students the song "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown" on my guitar. After I finished, one of the students asked me, "Why would you play a song about a person who is bad?" That, I thought, was an interesting question. Why would a person go to the effort to write, learn, or perform a song about a person who is bad? Why would someone use their energy to essentially celebrate negativity? That was an interesting perspective and good food for thought.

In the Western tradition, songs about outlaws and other "bad guys" are legion, though here in Texas I have never heard anyone question why a person would write or play such a song. No, I have never heard a discouraging word against "The Ballad of Jesse James," "The Ballad of Sam Bass," "The Ballad of Billy the Kid," or any other such song. And while I agree that it's probably more constructive to sing songs about good people, it's still kind of fun to croon the ones about desperadoes as well.

For your listening pleasure, here is a song about a real rapscallion that I have always enjoyed.

Laredo Founded Today

The Spanish settlement of Laredo was founded on this day in 1755 by Tomas Sanchez de la Barrera y Garza. Laredo, on the Rio Grande, has always served as a fine setting for songs, and I can certainly see why. There is, after all, a certain appeal to this fascinating town on the border, and the word "Laredo" is very pleasant to say. In honor of the founding of Laredo, today's post includes the song "Meet Me Tonight in Laredo" by Marty Robbins.

   

Wings of a Dove

This morning on my way to work I had to stop for a train. After sitting at the railroad crossing for a couple of seconds, I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that a dove had landed on the trunk of the car. I had to look twice to believe it since my car had just come to a stop. With wondering eyes I watched the bird until the train passed. Then, when the traffic started to move, I gently touched the accelerator and the bird flew away.

Songs about Mama

It's Mama's Day here in Texas, and I got to thinking about some of my favorite songs about Mama. Now there is, of course, "Up Against the Wall, Redneck Mother," the definitive version of which was recorded in Luckenbach in 1973. And there is Merle Haggard's "Mama Tried," which has been covered by everyone from the Man in Black to the Grateful Dead to our dear Uncle Willie. And there is Lefty Frizzell's "Mom and Dad's Waltz," though Mama shares equal time with Daddy on that one. And there's "Pistol Packing Mama," a fine song by ol' Al Dexter, which is the only country song I know of that contains the word "kimono."

Today, however, I would like to share Ernest Tubb's "Mean Mama Blues." Listen to ol' ET yodel like  the Singing Brakeman.

Happy Mama's Day to all you mamas out there. Keep raisin' 'em right!

Back Porch Strumming

This evening my dear ol' dad and I sat on his back porch cobbling out a song.  The ol' man strung some good lines together while I strummed along, and I reckon with a little work, we could have a pretty nice little tune on our hands. 

After I sat down the guitfiddle, my dear ol' dad wanted to listen to a Guy Clark song he really likes. The ol' man enjoys a good story song, and this one does not disappoint.

Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain

For two or three decades a small stack of my great-grandfather's old 78 records sat in a trunk among old newspapers and a decaying blanket. I had never paid those post-war country records any mind, and then one day, out of curiosity, I took them into the house, cleaned them in the sink with tap water and a microfiber towel, and let them dry in the dish rack. 

The next day I played some of the records only to discover that although I hardly knew my great-grandfather, we had very similar taste in music. I remember the moment the needle met the groove on Roy Acuff's "Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain." My jaw dropped, for I had always thought the song was first recorded by Willie Nelson at Autumn Sound Studio in Garland, Texas, in 1975. That day of listening to those crackling old records turned my curiosity into a passion.

Here is another version of "Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain," sung by none other than the Lovesick Blues Boy, Hank Williams. 

A Country Legend in Cleats

Although I don't remember a great deal of my childhood, I remember seeing Charley Pride in a Texas Rangers uniform playing catch and chasing pop flies before a game in Arlington Stadium. Then when batting practice was over, the country music great, who was once a pitcher in the Negro Leagues, stepped up to the microphone and sang the national anthem.

Once I was older, I had the opportunity to see Charley Pride perform at a couple of Willie's Picnics. I always liked his rich voice and easy-going stage presence. When I think about it, I guess I have been entertained by Charley Pride for most of my life. And I imagine there are many folks here in North Texas who would say the same.

Here is Charley Pride singing Brownsville native Kris Kristofferson's "Me and Bobby McGee."

Making Bets on Kentucky Derby Day

Not being a gambling man, I don't usually pay the Kentucky Derby much mind, but every time I hear mention of it, the song "Dead Flowers" starts running through my head. However, the Rolling Stones' version is not the one I think of. I think of the cover by Texas' own Steve Earle, which I first heard while rolling down Highway 16 near Enchanted Rock many moons ago. 

For your listening pleasure, here is the Steve Earle version of "Dead Flowers." Keep your ears open for the "Kentucky Derby Day" reference. 

 

Happy Cinco de Mayo, Y'all!

Cinco de Mayo celebrates the Mexican Army's win against the French in the Battle of Puebla in 1862, though, ironically, the holiday is not widely observed in Mexico. Interestingly enough, the Fifth of May is actually more of a Mexican-American phenomenon and was popularized by the Chicano movement of the 1940s and 1950s.

Here in Texas, Cinco de Mayo is a big event. And it should be, considering that Texas was actually part of the Mexican state of Coahuila y Tejas from the founding of Mexico until 1836. Today, I believe, is a good day to note that Stephen F. Austin, the "Father of Texas," was not only a Mexican citizen but a strong supporter of bilingual education. Yes, indeed, good ol' Stephen F. Austin was a holder of a Mexican passport, and he truly believed that bilingualism would help the Old Three Hundred better assimilate to life in Mexico (See: Carlos Kevin Blanton's The Strange Career of Bilingual Education in Texas, 1836-1981).   

Speaking of Austin, here is Alejandro Escovedo playing "Heartbeat Smile."

Where is Limburg, Texas?

Between 1844 and 1847, many German immigrants settled in Central Texas in what is now called the "German Belt." These immigrants, who primarily came from West Central Germany, settled towns such as New Braunfels, Fredericksburg, and Mason.

In order to add a bit of geographical authenticity to Waylon County, I dubbed one of the towns Limburg, after the town in the German state of Hesse, where many of the Texas Germans originated. Since Texas did not have a Limburg, I decided to give it one. 

Below you will find a picture of the package of Limburger cheese that Martina bought recently. Let's just say that it has a rather interesting bouquet. I'm sure my dear ol' dad can attest since a high school buddy once hid a package under the seat of his car. 

Here is a link to Waylon County: Texas Stories in case you don't yet have a copy.

https://www.amazon.com/Waylon-County-Stories-Heath-Dollar/dp/0998066141

Texas Musicians Museum Evicted?

I was alarmed to see that the Texas Musicians Museum in Irving has been ordered to vacate the premises. Martina and I visited the museum the day it first opened, and I was thrilled to see a recording device used for the Lomax field recordings for the Smithsonian Institution as well as an old Stella parlor guitar like the one that Blind Lemon Jefferson would have played. I do not claim to know the circumstances, but I do hope that something gets worked out with the City of Irving and that the museum will be able to stay.

Here is an article from the Dallas Observer about the situation.

http://www.dallasobserver.com/music/texas-musicians-museum-may-be-on-its-way-out-in-irving-10647662

Basketball and Tube Socks

On May 1, 1980, tube socks with stripes across the top were in fashion and the Dallas Mavericks officially joined the NBA. Although the popularity of tube socks later waned, the popularity of the Mavericks increased.

I personally was a proud wearer of tall tube socks in the early 80s, and I was most definitely wearing such hosiery when I tried out for basketball in the seventh grade. I imagine that I would have eventually been drafted by the Mavericks were I able to shoot or dribble, but since I lacked those minor skills, I got cut from the junior high team.

I was hardly devastated when I was given the boot, and considering that the coach just shook his head and smiled when he saw me trying to play basketball like it was football, I saw it coming. Considering that my basketball experience to that point consisted of the occasional game of HORSE, my getting cut from the team was surprising to no one. I just laughed and moved on.