I just this morning received your CD “Where were you when the fun stopped?” About 3 seconds after I hit play on the machine, I was transported to another plane. I wanted to drive . . . drive hard . . . drive fast, focused . . . drive anywhere.
It left me with the sense that I don’t really have a care in the world. Everything is mine, and if not . . . I don’t want it! When it spun into “Will the Circle be Unbroken,” I was nearly catapulted out of my seat into some kind of hillbilly frenzy—possessed by the ghosts of my grandfathers and great-grandfathers . . . whorehoppers, moonshine runners, indians, coal miners and dogfuckers every last one of them. I wanted to smack every face in the room. Shake them up—wake them up! I had the sudden revelation that there is no real death and if there is—I will bite the fucker HARD before he takes me. Or maybe I won’t let him take me at all, maybe I’ll just go with him . . . on my own terms.
In short, I felt that universal sense of knowing, that you spoke about so profoundly in the wave speech of Fear and Loathing. When I reached—what I believe to be a Dwight Yoakum song with the accordion and twang—I suddenly pictured myself in the bathtub filled with mescal, somewhere south of the border, caressing the ass of some dark skinned beauty while drowning a hangover in the sacred tub of cactus juice. When “Bye Bye Miss American Pie” kicked in, I was IN the belltower with a 30 ought six, endless supplies of ammunition, a truck load of absinthe and YOUR fucking CD blaring. Not a soul in the world could touch me. It is beautiful . . .
You have resurrected fun!