I was born in Fort Worth, Texas on the east side of town, where the railroads wind and the neighborhoods are sleepier than their western counterparts. When I was a kid, I remember riding with my grandfather in his 1980 Ford F-150 in the dead heat of summer, listening to washed up country singers moan about heartbreak and hangovers while the cracked vinyl seats pinched the backs of my legs. As the scent of dipped Skoal snuff hung in the air like smoke from an ashtray, I remember watching my grandfather sing along, hitting each nuance like he wrote the song himself,
“Back in El Paso my life would be worthless.
Everything's gone in life; nothing is left.
It's been so long since I've seen the young maiden
My love is stronger than my fear of death”
-Marty Robbins, “El Paso”
I’m still in the gray pickup, fixed on the story and how it etches itself into people's lives, creating a sense of community and belonging to anyone that listens. I am beyond humbled that you've decided to spend some of your time here, and I am looking forward to seeing you at the next show.