Right at Home

The historic Blackstone Hotel (now a Courtyard by Marriott) on the corner of 5th and Main in downtown Fort Worth, Texas is the city's tallest hotel.  It was built in 1929 and has included a guest list of celebrities and presidents from Truman to Nixon.  Architecturally it is noted for its art decco and terra cotta designs, and for me, it's where I spent my very first night in Fort Worth.

This was a mere decade ago when I was considering a move to the area for work.  At that point I really didn't know the difference between Dallas and Fort Worth.  I wasn't truly aware of the Cowtown culture, the styles of music, the friendly people, or the unique southwestern cuisine.  I didn't know Joe T. Garcia's from Taco Bell, and who the hell was the Bass family or Amon G. Carter.   Lonesome Dove is just a movie right?  (Tim Love would kick my ass!)

See, I grew up in Georgia.  Left home at 18 to go off to school, and afterward had the privilege of traveling the world.  I've seen the Russian white nights, the horizons of Honduran mountains, and lost weight to dysentery in Nigeria. However, with all my worldly wanderings, I never felt at home.   That is until that first night at the Blackstone Hotel.

It wasn't necessarily the Blackstone that did it for me, moreover it was something I experienced when I stepped out on the street from the hotel lobby.  I heard something.  A few blocks to the north I heard the sound of music in the street.  Actually it wasn't IN the street, but rather, on the outdoor stage of the old 8.0 Restaurant (now Flying Saucer).  So I meandered up Main till I found the source.  I really wish to God that I could tell you who was playing that late summer evening (hell it's probably someone I could now say I know personally), but I guess it doesn't really matter.  It was the atmosphere.  People everywhere enjoying each others' company, a cold beer in the shade, and listening to what I now know was Texas music.  I leaned against a street lamp, folded my arms, took a few deep breaths, watched, listened, and for the first time in my life, felt at home.

I don't know if others have ever experienced a similar epiphany, a God moment, where everything just feels right and your mind is suddenly open with an explosion of reality.  That was my moment.  Fort Worth, Texas was going to be my home.  Not sure that I'll ever be able to fully explain what happened to me that night, but I felt like the Prodigal coming back to his daddy's house after a long trip to the nowhere.  Decision made, I returned to Atlanta, Ga, packed my house and headed west.  And I'm oh so thankful I did.

The city of Fort Worth and the surrounding areas have yet to disappoint, and I'm certain they never will.  As the old saying goes, "I'm not from Texas, but I got here as fast as I could," would certainly apply.  I laughingly refer to myself as a "Texian."

Fort Worth is only getting better, too.  The advent of the updated Sundance Square has reinvigorated an already exciting downtown, and the Historic Fort Worth Stockyards will forever be my favorite haunt.  I've made it a point to learn the history of my home, and at this point, I may know more about Fort Worth than many that were born here, and I personally think I make a damn good tour guide of the city.  The musicians that make up the North Texas "Red Dirt" scene have forever changed my life, and I'm happy today to call many of them my friend.

This week as we approach the start of yet another historic Fort Worth Stock Show and Rodeo (www.fwssr.com) at the Will Rogers Memorial Center, I'm reminded of just how far this Georgia boy has come as a citizen of the area I love.  Ten years ago I walked up Main Street Fort Worth on my own two feet to hear the sounds of music.  This weekend I will walk up the same street, thanks to Chapman Family Ranches (Chapman Family Ranches) and my good buddy, and true friend, Trey Chapman (Trey Chapman Fan Page), to the sounds of hundreds of thousands of people, but this time on four feet, well, actually hooves, as I ride in the Stock Show Parade.  I have a pretty good feeling that I'm going to feel right at home.

Ride On!

Where's My Free Phone?

There are two key words that we need to be discussing in America right now. They both start with "E," and they are crucial to the future of our country. The two words: Entrepreneurship and Entitlement. 

Fundamentally, the two can't coexist in the same environment. Quite simply put, they destroy each other.

 If I offer you the names of a few of America's great innovators, inventors, and creative leaders what comes to mind? Names like Edison, Ford, Franklin, Jobs, Walton, etc. Very successful men to say the least, but how much of their success was GIVEN to them? None. They saw a need and met it. They worked. They earned. They deserved their success (and yes, their riches too). Their names became synonymous with success and innovation. They weren't victims, and they weren't basing their success on a hand out or a hand up.

 On the other hand, give me one name of a person who has become great because of all of the entitlements he or she has been given in life. Show me the person who was handed everything they needed without working for it and became successful. It doesn't exist.

 Yesterday we voted for more entitlement. We voted to keep our welfare intact. We voted to stay lazy and complacent. We voted to become a nation of getters, and not givers. We voted to become a nation that attacks the successful.

 Entrepreneurs need desperation in order to succeed. Entitlements destroy the desperation. Entitlements say "life may not be perfect, but it's good enough." It eliminates the pressure to chase perfection and creative success.

 There's a choice to be made America. It transcends political parties. Will you embrace the entrepreneurial spirit that desperately pursues success? Or will you expect cradle to grave care from your government and thereby forfeit your name, your legacy, and your life?

One of My Favorites

The Sierry Petes (or, Tying Knots in the Devil's Tail)

Away up high in the Sierry Petes,
Where the yeller pines grows tall,
Ole Sandy Bob an' Buster Jig,
Had a rodeer camp last fall.

Oh, they taken their hosses and runnin' irons
And maybe a dog or two,
An' they 'lowed they'd brand all the long-yered calves,
That come within their view.

And any old dogie that flapped long yeres,
An' didn't bush up by day,
Got his long yeres whittled an' his old hide scorched,
In a most artistic way.

Now one fine day ole Sandy Bob,
He throwed his seago down,
"I'm sick of the smell of burnin’ hair,
And I 'lows I'm a-goin' to town."

So they saddles up an' hits 'em a lope,
Fer it warnt no sight of a ride,
And them was the days when a Buckeroo
Could ile up his inside.

Oh, they starts her in at the Kaintucky Bar,
At the head of Whiskey Row,
And they winds up down by the Depot House,
Some forty drinks below.

They then sets up and turns around,
And goes her the other way,
An' to tell you the Gawd-forsaken truth,
Them boys got stewed that day.

As they was a-ridin' back to camp,
A-packin' a pretty good load,
Who should they meet but the Devil himself,
A-prancin' down the road.

Sez he, "You ornery cowboy skunks,
You'd better hunt yer holes,
Fer I've come up from Hell's Rim Rock,
To gather in yer souls."

Sez Sandy Bob, "Old Devil be damned,
We boys is kinda tight,
But you ain't a-goin' to gather no cowboy souls,
'Thout you has some kind of a fight."

So Sandy Bob punched a hole in his rope,
And he swang her straight and true,
He lapped it on to the Devil's horns,
An' he taken his dallies too.

Now Buster jig was a riata man,
With his gut-line coiled up neat,
So he shaken her out an' he built him a loop,
An' he lassed the Devil's hind feet.

Oh, they stretched him out an' they tailed him down,
While the irons was a-gettin hot,
They cropped and swaller-forked his yeres,
Then they branded him up a lot.

They pruned him up with a de-hornin' saw,
An' they knotted his tail fer a joke,
They then rid off and left him there,
Necked to a Black-Jack oak.

If you're ever up high in the Sierry Petes,
An' you hear one Hell of a wail,
You'll know it's that Devil a-bellerin' around,
About them knots in his tail.

Gail I. Gardner, 1917, from Orejana Bull

Labor Day Weekend Music in Texas

If you are willing to brave the heat this weekend, there's some pretty good events that will feature some awesome Texas music. And if you do decide to go, have fun, look out for one another, and for goodness sake, DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE.

Here's a few:

Adam Carillo’s Labor Day at Super C Lake
Dublin, TX (3 day event – Sept 2-4)
Chili Cookoff, Music Festival, and CBR bull riding
Wade Bowen, Casey Donahew Band, Johnny Cooper, Rich O’Toole, Turnpike Troubadours, and others http://superclake.com/LaborDay.html

Armadillo Festival
Sat Sept 3 - Victoria, TX
Roger Creager

3rd Annual Texas BrewBQue
Sun Sept 4 - Buda, TX
Cody Canada and the Departed, Johnny Cooper, Turnpike Troubadors, Bart Crow Band, Aaron Watson, and others
http://www.brewbque.com/

HoodStock: Live at the Rio
Sat Sept 3 – Granbury, TX
Kevin Fowler, Cory Morrow, Ray Wylie Hubbard, Steve Helms, Cody Canada, and others
http://riobrazoslive.com/event/hoodstock

West Fest
Sept 3-4 – West, TX – Polka and Kolache…mmmmm!

Pickin’ for Preemies at Billy Bob’s Texas
Labor Day 5-9 pm
Acoustic show with Cody Canada, Brandon Rhyder, Walt Wilkins, Curtis Grimes, Wade Bowen, Rich O’Toole, Steve Helms, Johnny Cooper and others…plus unannounced special musical guests.
http://www.pickinforpreemies.com/index.php/2011-lineup

Cowboys Dancehall Music Fest
Sept 4 – San Antonio
Eli Young Band, Kevin Fowler, Stoney Larue, Reckless Kelly
http://cowboysdancehall.com/San-Antonio/

Gypsies in the Oven

This Texas heat and drought has seriously put a damper on my "gypsy-ness." We now stand at 7.5 inches of rain for the year in Texas, which is a record low. And it's damn HOT! We are looking forward to a weekend "cold front" that will take us down into the 90's. Here we are at the beginning of September which marks the beginning of dove season, the start of college football, and Labor Day music festivals all over the state. But you know what? I'm not going to participate in any of that. I'm staying inside. It's too hot, and I'm tired of sweating. I seriously can't believe that I plan to just stay in...gypsy in the house. (It actually probably won't happen, but right now I'm telling myself I'm staying put...I know me.)

If you are a praying soul, I would encourage you to ask for rain in Texas and the midwest. The eastern seaboard is getting pummeled with rain, floods, and hurricanes, and we are selling cows at an astounding rate because there's not enough grass to feed them. Wildfires have destroyed millions of dollars of property and livestock. The slightest spark can create the biggest of problems. So...pray.

For further reading: http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/story/2011-09-01/Drought-puts-cattle-ranchers-at-a-crossroads/50230906/1

Cowboy in Crisis

Well he's been threatening...and now he's gone and done it. D.J. decided it would be a good idea to go off and get himself a new car. But not just any car will do for our dear brother. No, he had to run off and buy a new Corvette. Oh dear Lord.....I mean, where the heck is he going to put his saddle. Not to mention the fact that I've never seen a two-horse trailer being pulled by a sports car. And...and...AND...It's a Chevy. (enter the sound of me spitting on the ground)

He drove up to Oklahoma to purchase this new, fiery beast...(enter the sound of tires screeching as I slam on the brakes)....OKLAHOMA! That in and of itself is bad news. He then had the audacity to stay up there a couple of days to visit!!! And he probably drank some of the water, too. I think he's losing his mind. Sorry Oklahoma. No offense. You're just not Texas.

He sent me a text message telling me that he was crossing the Red River back into the great Lone Star State. I told him to pull over and kiss the pure Texas ground, and repent of his wayward actions. He did so....

I want to ask all of you dear friends, to look closely at the above picture, and to join me in praying for Brother D.J., and for his decision...to...wear jean shorts!

Where to Go Next.....?

Living like a gypsy can be a bit of a challenge. Most of the time I wish I wasn't the wandering soul that I am. I wish I was settled. Not restless. I wish I had that thing that makes you want to just stay put. But that's not how I am. I like to go...correction...I have to go. Sitting still makes me nervous. I wouldn't say that I'm hyper, just restless. I don't like that feeling of missing out on something that's going on out there in the world. So I just keep going...and going...and going. Just add a cowboy hat to the Energizer Bunny and that's me...minus the pink...and the drum...and the big ears....

So I want to know...where do I need to go next? What's out there that I'm missing? I want your opinion on great destinations. Not Cabo...not New York...not Paris. Somewhere off the radar. Some place off the map. You know like The Blind Tiger bar in Shreveport, LA (awesome place and you need to visit. www.blindtigerrestaurant.com) or Riverfest in Gadsden, AL (www.gadsdenriverfest.com) or Larry Joe Taylor's music festival in Stephenville, TX (www.larryjoetaylor.com)....you get the point. Something regional but life changing. An awesome experience. Let me know where you've been and why it's great. I want to hear from you. Then let's plan a Gypsy Trip.