My life is a seventh grader's dream. Specifically, my seventh grade dream. I never wanted to be the king of the cowboys. The singer in the band didn't really interest me. My mom took me to rock'n'roll shows and I always had my eye on the bass player, the drummer. My favorite race car drivers frequently spun out on the last lap.
Oh, I loved Elvis. There was only gonna be one Elvis. Ever. Johnny Horton, except for that dying part, now there was a star. Marv Johnson, Curtis Lee, Prince Lala.
Another big draw for me was the bachelor's life. Bachelors seemed far more interesting. You know- smoking pipes, Playboy, meals at the diner. Single guys travel and see the world. They hang out with a loyal dog. They don't work boring jobs and complain about it.
For the sake of disclosure here I should tell you about how I got to this fantasy life. I've been married for nearly forty years. Oh, not to the same woman and not lately.
Between rock'n'roll stints I've scooped mud from the bottom of barges, managed real estate offices, attempted to save the world as a civil servant and written an automotive column.
My role as what is often and kindly referred to as a cult artist hasn't come from some intricate career plan. No, this is the best that I can do. I don't mean to complain. I wouldn't change any of it.
I've seen a lot of the world and I've got the best dog in the world. The cat is a bonus. I eat at the diner so often that a waitress recently asked, "Do you have a home?"
I spun out well before the last lap. Just to make sure that I get it right I spin out every decade or so.
Of course nowadays men really do buy Playboy for the articles.
I'm hoping that this doesn't read as though I'm warning you to be careful what you wish for. I've had it all. No, wait- I have it all.
The sweetest, kindest folks have filled my life. I've known love. The most magnificent musicians in the world have shared everything they had with me. They've often been the sweetest, kindest folks.
I've played rock'n'roll for a lifetime. Follow that dream, indeed.