of blacktops and highways
Posted on 24. Feb, 2010 by Seth in music
words > RALEIGH WALTERS
photos > courtesy of the cotillion
What is it about Willie Nelson that everyone on this planet finds so damned endearing? Well — hell, people! What’s not to like about him? He smokes grass, plays golf, does yoga, rescues horses and has created some of the most memorable tunes that the American musical canon has to offer.
He strums a nice 6-string too.
Yet Willie Nelson, the man, remains an enigma. He’s been married four times, fathered nine children and produced sounds that have spanned a half-century of music. He’s been abused by the stinking underbelly of the music business — not to mention the IRS — and has risen above it all to make significant contributions to the cultural landscape of our lifetime.
With a face as crisscrossed and weathered as the blacktops and highways that he’s been driving since the 1950’s, his soul is as pure and untethered as anyone you’ll ever come across. This monklike millionaire in a tattered cowboy hat puts on no frills, instead preferring the uniform of the common man he represents: black T-shirt, black pants and gray New Balance sneakers.
What’s truly amazing is the drawing power that this highway troubadour possesses. From the geriatric on down to the PBR hipster, everyone flocks to a Willie show howling to the lyrics of Whiskey River, only to flaunt the tale in raspy whispers the next day.
Now imagine Willie Nelson’s bus, the Honeysuckle Rose IV, a beautiful piece of touring machinery fueled solely on Willie’s own biodiesel produced at his refinery/honky-tonk outside of Dallas, Texas, rolling across the intercoastal backbone of the United States. The bus stops to let Willie play at every civic center, coliseum and casino with a booking agent savvy enough to understand the significance of real American music.
Perhaps you, like myself, have cried and held yourself — ever so gently — while listening to an old recording of My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys. And if you haven’t had this experience, there’s more in store for you, my friend. Besides, just listening to the Ambassador of Weedville is not enough; every red-blooded American should have at least one Willie concert under their proverbial belt. It adds to the street cred.
Truly kind, gentle folk of Doodah: This ain’t no Taylor Swift. This is a real human with real stories being brought to our fair hamlet. And this ain’t no Brad Paisley rockin’ out in our version of the Love Boat that’s lodged in our downtown terra firma, either — ohhh, no. It’s Willie Freakin’ Nelson playing in a music hall that has showcased more famous musicians than a backstage groupie. And if that doesn’t make you wanna go, here are a few random facts to entice you:
He named his guitar Trigger, and he says that when Trigger doesn’t play anymore, neither will he.
He’s 76 years old and plays more than 200 shows a year.
He logs more than 2 million miles a year on the Honeysuckle
Rose IV.
He has sold more than 50 million albums worldwide.
He is heavily involved with The National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws (NORML).
He owns a music studio/golf course in the hill country outside of Austin, Texas.
When asked if he plans to retire, he invariably replies with a smile, “All I do is play music and golf — which one do you want me to give up?”
Bottom line, people: Don’t miss Willie at the Cotillion on February 23. It’s your loss if you do.
