We built a western town on the seven hundred acres for a movie Dad produced, based on his No. 1 hit album Red Headed Stranger. I had never even been on a movie set when Dad and Bill Wittliff (the movie’s director) asked me to be the costume designer. I did, and surprisingly enough the costumes drew some good reviews. We were all flying by the seat of our panties on that one, but we pulled it off. We had our movie.
Somewhere during those years I directed his music videos for “Pancho and Lefty,” “Tougher Than Leather,” and “There You Are.” “Pancho and Lefty” won an American Video Award for best country video, and “Tougher Than Leather” was nominated a couple of years later. I can say that proudly; we lost to Ray Charles. Most recently David Anderson and I wrote and directed Dad’s next music video, “A Horse Called Music,” due out this fall.
CAROLYN MUGAR
We were filming the movie Red Headed Stranger in Austin, Texas. The studio offered to film it with an $18 million budget and Robert Redford as the lead, which was my part of the preacher. I decided to pass, not because I didn’t like Robert Redford—in fact we are friends to this day and I love the man. I passed because it was a part I really wanted to play. I asked my friend and director Bill Wittliff if we could do it for less. We settled on a $1.8 million budget and began to raise our own money. Don Tyson (of Tyson Foods) gave us the first $250,000 to get started and a few more friends here and there came up with $25,000 and $50,000 investments. It was far from enough to finish the film but enough for me to say, “Let’s go for it.” I had already built, and paid for, a huge film town on my property, so we just started filming. We invited Cheryl McCall, a writer for Life magazine and a dear friend, to embed herself and the magazine in our production set and gave them total access. She would often just hang out with me between takes. One day while we were filming on Bill’s ranch outside of Austin, my tour manager David Anderson, who helped coproduce the movie and kept the books, came to the set to talk money. After delivering the bad news that we were more than $150,000 overdrawn and hadn’t finished the first weeks of production, Cheryl interrupted and said that a friend she knew was having dinner with a woman from Boston, and she had money that she might be willing to invest. David was far from moved by the idea and was rude as usual—even though, in his defense, it did seem like quite a stretch.
The next morning, the mysterious woman from Boston showed up with $500,000, and that was how I met one of my closest confidants, Carolyn Mugar. It turns out we had a great deal in common, and she is still my friend to this day.
MARCH 2012
We just put Luke on a plane to Los Angeles. He has gigs to play up and down the coast, and then he goes to NYC to do the Letterman show, ho-hum. He has every right to be a spoiled little—I mean big—brat. But he is not. He has a really good heart and loves everyone; he gets that from his mom.
ANNIE NELSON
While raising our boys, I pretty much considered myself a married single parent. Don’t get me wrong, I have the best husband in the world, but he was gone a lot, and when we weren’t with him, I was on my own. People ask me, “How do you do it?” but the truth is we both love it. I think one of the secrets to our longevity is the fact that we are basically both gypsies in our souls, so traveling is in my bones, and I am okay on my own—in fact, I enjoy it. I am excited to see him when he comes home, and about the time he’s got to go and is ready to go . . . he’s really got to go! The trick, I think, is that he feels the same way. Willie is always happy to come home and to have time off, but if he’s off too long he starts to go through “picker’s withdrawal” and needs to play music somewhere—anywhere!
TODAY IS THURSDAY, MARCH 24, 2012
These dates are more for me than for you. It’s good for me to know what month, year, date, and time of day it is, and oh yeah . . . where I am.
“Beautiful” is not a good enough word for Maui. It is breathtaking, healing, addictive, and a lot of other wonderful descriptions, and I still haven’t completely described Maui. I have lived here many years, and in some ways it reminds me of Abbott, Texas, my hometown. Paia, Maui, Hawaii, is a great place.
Annie is in the house cooking up a storm with Woody’s wife, Laura, and a bunch of our kids. It’s nice to have extended family here, or as we call it, the Tribe. We even have a room in the house called the Woody Wing. When he’s winning, he goes home; when he’s losing, the Woody Wing is occupied.
Now it’s poker time. Six twenty-two P.M., also known as “dark thirty.”
IT’S 7:13 P.M., SATURDAY, APRIL FOOL’S DAY
Don’t believe a word I say from here on. Just kidding. Trying to get this day started; it ain’t easy. Maybe I’ll go back to sleep and try again later.
APRIL 2012
Annie and I head to Los Angeles tonight. It ain’t easy leaving heaven on earth, aka Maui, Hawaii. I start playing on the fifth in Texas. That will be good, because I’m ready for a great Texas crowd. Texas crowds get into it pretty good, and I love it when they do. The people put on as good a show as we do, and I feel the vibes. We send out good ones and they send them right back.
That means it all worked out right.
Lukas, Micah, Annie, and me
WHEREVER YOU ARE RIGHT NOW, SEND OUT SOME GOOD VIBES. Energy follows thought, and when you send it out, it keeps going. Every thought you have had is still spinning in the universe, so keep them positive. What goes around comes around, the law of karma—for every action there is an opposite and equal reaction, and I will keep saying this a lot, not for you, but for me. I need to hear it often. Earth is a school for dummies. We keep coming here to prove why we need to keep coming here. If we get it right just one time, I don’t think we come back unless we just want to. Knowing what we know, I don’t want to. It’s too hard. Living is hard enough, dying really sucks, and I don’t know, do the good times outweigh the bad? Fuck, I hope so.
GOOD TIMES
When I rolled rubber tires in the driveway
pulled a purse on a string across the highway
Classify these as good times good times
When I ran to the store with a penny
and when youth was abundant and plenty
Classify these as good times good times
Go to school fight a war working steady
Meet a girl fall in love before I’m ready
Classify these as good times good times
Here I sit with a drink and a memory
but I’m not cold I’m not wet and I’m not hungry
Classify these as good times good times
Good times are coming hum it um huh
Good times
FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO MIGHT BE OFFENDED BY MY BAD LANGUAGE, I do apologize. There are so few words that I want to be able to use them all if I can, cuss words too. The most holy word of all, God, cannot be used in vain if it is the most holy word. There is no way to say it in vain. When you say the word God, you vibrate at eighty-two billion times per second. That’s why preachers say God and hold it a long time. It feels good to say it: GOOOOOOOOD. That’s cool. God, good, it all means the same. It’s the most powerful word in the English language—except for love. And God is love, so there you have it. Love is God, and God is love, end of story.
The first three letters in the universal language are “I am love,” or “I am God,” if you want to shake up the right a little. I am love, I am God, I am I, or if you think you feel bad, feel of me, or take your tongue out of my mouth, I’m kissing you good-bye, or I can’t get over you so you get up and answer the phone, or I hate every bone in your body but mine, or take your love and stick it up your heart.
It’s a nice plane ride. Nice plane, nice people taking care of you. That’s nice. Thanks, American.
“Life is a bitch and then you die.” Zeke really did say that.
There is a movie playing on the plane now, about people in a zoo of some kind. The star is very popular. I can’t think of his name, but he went down with the Titanic. I met him once at a fund-raiser . . . hmm
. Oh well. I had a friend who went down on an elevator and another one who blew a safe, but that’s another story. Was it Leonardo da Vinci? Maybe, I don’t know . . . DiCaprio! He’s a good actor, and I’m so proud of me for remembering his name. Oh yeah, that Da Vinci guy is a painter. Now I remember; I think he painted The Last Supper.
ONE TIME A GUY COMMISSIONED A PAINTER TO PAINT A PICTURE that would show what General Custer was thinking at the Battle of Little Bighorn—that would actually show his last thought. When he was through, he had painted a picture of a thousand Indians lying on the ground having sex, and a cow with a halo. The financier asked, “What does this have to do with General Custer’s last thoughts at the Battle of Little Bighorn?” The artist pointed to the caption on the painting, which read: “Holy cow, look at them fucking Indians.”
I am part Cherokee, on my mother’s side. Of course when she was in Texas she claimed to be Mexican, so I’m not really sure. My mother was a singer, guitar player, dancer, and bartender, and she did them all well. The first song I remember hearing her sing to me was “Ain’t Nobody’s Business.”
Went downtown
rode on a fender
Came back home
Kicked out a window
Ain’t nobody’s business if I do
I loved my mother. She also sang:
If you wanna get drunk and blow your top
there ain’t nobody gonna make you stop
That’s your red wagon
That’s your little red wagon
That’s your red wagon so just keep rolling along
If you want to go fishing late at night
And you lose your bait and the fish don’t bite
That’s your red wagon and keep on rolling along
My mother, Myrle Greenhaw-Nelson, was a great cook. When we were in the northwest around Portland, Oregon, we would pull the bus up to the house and get the best meal we would have on the whole tour. We knew that and always looked forward to it. I was a DJ in Vancouver, Washington, and Portland, Oregon. I loved it. That’s wonderful country, and I didn’t mind the rain.
My dad, Ira Nelson, and my mother divorced when I was six months old and Sister Bobbie was three years old. I lived with my grandparents Nancy Elizabeth Nelson and William Alfred Nelson. My granddad was a blacksmith.
My dad moved to various places, following his trade as a mechanic. He made it a point to come visit every chance he could. Later on in life, we had more time to spend together. We played music all over the state together, and I was able to more than make up for the time I missed with him when I was a child. He tried to be a good father in every way.
He remarried a pretty lady called Lorraine. You may have heard stories about evil stepmothers, but Lorraine was not one of them. She loved me and Sister Bobbie, and coming into the family the way she did, “she had shit for a point,” because in those days divorces and stepparents were hard to accept. Through the years, as we got to know her more and more, we realized what a great lady she was.
I LET MY MIND WANDER
I let my mind wander
And what did it do?
It just kept right on goin’
Until it got back to you
I let my mind wander
Can’t trust it one minute
It’s worse than a child
Disobeys without conscience
It’s drivin’ me wild
When I let my mind wander
Try to keep my mind busy
On thoughts of today
But invariably memories
Seem to lure it away
My lonely heart wonders
If there’ll ever come a day
When I can be happy
But I can’t see no way
’Cause I let my mind wander
I try to keep my mind busy
With thoughts of today
But invariably memories
Seem to lure it away
My lonely heart wonders
If there’ll ever come a day
When I can be happy
But I can’t see no way
’Cause I let my mind wander
SUMMERTIME
Summertime, and the livin’ is easy
Oh wait, I didn’t write that! Okay. Moving on.
DON NELSON HAS A POKER GAME NAMED AFTER HIM CALLED DIRTY Nellie. It is a dirty, unforgiving game. You get three cards—one up and two down—and your bottom hold card is wild. It’s a seven-card game, so a lot can go wrong; I hate it. We play dealer’s choice, and that can be one of a hundred games, like Spreckelsville; or a game I brought from Texas called Big Mountain or Omaha, where you play two cards only out of your hand; or Baldwin Beach, named after a local beach here and similar to Low Ball; or High Ball; or Paducah, and, honestly, more games than I can remember. Oh yes, and my favorite game is called Hold ’Em and Fuck ’Em. It’s a five-card high/low game, hold card wild, buy one at the end, and throw one away. It’s a great game. We play all kinds of games, crazy shit, but fun.
My good friend and one of the founding members out the Maui Outlaws, the late and great Spider, gave me a ship bell. We ring it for him every night at Django’s Orchid Lounge. LIQUOR UP FRONT—POKER IN THE REAR.
Mudslide is a good friend who helps me keep Django’s running. He sets up the poker table and brings coffee, beer, or whatever, to whomever. He plays and sings for us sometimes. He is a great entertainer and hard worker. He has worked every Farm Aid, helped park cars, buses, trucks, and whatever needs to be done. Slide can and will do it. Thank you, Slide.
Bill Mack and I have been great friends for fifty years at least. He was on the radio when I was just getting started, and he played all my records, from the first ones, like “Mr. Record Man,” “Half a Man,” and “Turn Out the Lights.” He helped keep my name and music out there when I really needed it. He was the Midnight Cowboy at WBAP’s Fort Worth, Texas, late-night show that everybody listened to.
In those days a radio station could make you or break you; I guess it still can. He was on SiriusXM Radio for years, and I believe he is coming back again. I sure hope so, anyway. We had a show on Wednesday together, called Willie Wednesdays. I hope we can do that again soon.
I JUST READ WHAT MELONIE CANNON WAS SAYING ABOUT THE 2012 CMA award show. It wasn’t a good review, but it was a funny one! I didn’t watch it, so I don’t know for sure what went on, but it wasn’t great according to Melonie. I think she was frustrated because she was raised on classic country music. I love Melonie and respect her opinion. She is a great singer and the daughter of one of the best writers, musicians, and producers in music, Buddy Cannon, so call ’em like you see ’em, Melonie.
PICKERS
I will not say anything bad about another picker, but we do know who the good ones are, and they were/are:
Django Reinhardt
Bob Wills
Ray Price
George Jones
Vern Gosdin
Kitty Wells
Loretta Lynn
Connie Smith
Little Jimmy Dickens
Floyd Tillman
Leon Payne
Ted Daffan
Spade Cooley
Tex Williams
Tennessee Ernie Ford
Chet Atkins
Grady Martin
Hank Garland
Tommy Jackson
Jerry Reed
Ernest Tubb
Red Foley
The Louvin Brothers
The Wilburn Brothers
Roy Acuff
Pee Wee King
Lulu Belle and Scotty
Marty Robbins
Waylon Jennings
Kris Kristofferson
Johnny Cash
Billy Joe Shaver
Merle Haggard
Hank Locklin
Carl Smith
Roger Miller
Carl and Pearl Butler
Jimmie Rodgers
Lefty Frizzell
These are some of the pickers who influen
ced me along the way, and I’m sure I am leaving somebody out, but these are the people I learned from, and whatever I am, I owe a lot to my teachers. Thank you for showing me the way.
IF YOU WANT TO BE A STAR, YOU SHOULD START ACTING LIKE ONE now, so that when you become one, you will already know how to behave, and maybe you won’t blow it. For instance, I don’t know anybody who is better drunk than sober. You might get by a while, but sooner than later it will take you down. I know. I tried it.
Nobody can stay drunk and make it for long. Alcohol and drugs will win. I have a high tolerance for pot, but I still forget “Whiskey River” if I smoke too much before a show. I don’t drink anymore, so that’s a plus, but I still have to watch it.
POT IS LEGAL IN A LOT OF PLACES AND ONE DAY WILL BE LEGAL EVERYWHERE. If you make pot legal, and tax it and regulate it like alcohol and tobacco, you will stop the dealing on the borders and save thousands of lives!
THE NEXT SONG IS ON MY NEW RECORD. I PLUG MY MUSIC ANY TIME I can. I know it’s commercialism at its lowest form . . . Bite me, again. It’s beginning to feel good.
ROLL ME UP AND SMOKE
ME WHEN I DIE
Roll me up and smoke me when I die
And if anyone don’t like it, just look ’em in the eye
I didn’t come here, and I ain’t leavin’
So don’t sit around and cry
Just roll me up and smoke me when I die.
You won’t see no sad and teary eyes
When I get my wings, and it’s my time to fly
Just call my friends and tell them
There’s a party, come on by
So just roll me up and smoke me when I die.
Roll me up and smoke me when I die
And if anyone don’t like it, just look ’em in the eye
I didn’t come here, and I ain’t leavin’
Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die: Musings From the Road Page 8