Wednesday, May 16, 2012
I was gonna put up a piece today I wrote for The Fix about the new documentary, Bill W., but I'm not seeing it, nor hearing from the editor over there.
So my mind has turned to May of '10 when I found myself tooling up the Gulf Coast Highway in Texas--well, actually Route 77, which is apparently a major drug-, gun-, money-, poached game- (everyone in that part of Texas--man, woman, and child--seemed to hunt), and people-running corridor--and listening to this Nanci Griffth tape I'd had for ages. I didn't see a ton of bluebonnets but it was a thrill to actually be in the place the song was about. And of course, in a way, it's about everyplace...
"And when he dies
he says he'll catch some blackbird's wing
Then she will fly away to Heaven,
come some sweet bluebonnet spring"...