Elvis died with about five million bucks in the bank and lots of debt. I remember worrying about his finances. Here, the King of Rock'n'Roll lay dead as a doornail, at peace for the first time since 1956, and I fretted about his financial affairs.
Seems I've always agonized over other folks' money problems. Mine? Not so much.
There have been times when I have had a few bucks squirreled away and times, more times, where I have lived paycheck to paycheck. Keep in mind that I write hillbilly songs. I don't get many paychecks. Oh, I've swept floors, scooped mud, peddled real estate, written newspaper columns, fought pollution, promoted concerts and indulged in other activities that kept the wolf from the door for periods of time between big hit records. Truthfully, I'm a little tired of waiting for a big hit record.
Somehow, I've never figured out this quest for gold, records or otherwise. I collect parrot jokes. Doesn't require any license, wardrobe or degree. I keep rocks. I've built up a lifetime's fantasies and I'm working to indulge every last one. None of them involve money.
I've got the best life in the world. Sometimes I lose a little sleep over your economic well-being.
Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.
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