Ain’t No Room Round Here For a Guitar Man

 

 

 

Vic keeps me in line. I never seek attention and Tommy Overstreet said years ago I had a “Whole lot of quit in me!” I will not enumerate how many songs, books, articles or movies I’ve written but I will say that I’ve given away more than I’ve published. Newbies are always talking about “dues” they’ve paid when they first start out. Dues are what you realize when it’s all over and done and the Devil comes knocking.

 

Alcoholism becomes a viable option and beats working. Fancy words like “depression” don’t work because if you’re a writer you quickly realize that depression gives you the best material because nobody wants to hear about sunny days, they just want to make it through the night.

 

So, you drink yourself into a pit, and somewhere in that pit is a hit, if you’re lucky. But you’ll never know it. Not until those long after you’re gone understand what you were really trying to say. You wake up in someplace where they bring your medicine on time, and when you tell them you’re a writer they write down the word “dementia,” and your family signs the papers. Then you’re a “real writer!”

 

Your best stuff comes in your declining years because then you have the insight that life gives to fools and drunks. And you know that you are no different than you were when you started out. You’ve just made it to the end of the line and no longer care about opinions because everybody has one, and none of them are yours.

 

There is no formula for this. There is no college, no self help book, or marriage. You take this ride alone. And others holding their ticket, waiting to board that train have no idea of the cost of the ticket because if they did they’d just buy a bottle and call it a day. It would save a lot of time.

 

All is from God. It depends on what you make of it. He does not sieze your hand and write for you. You filter the inspiration through you. If it turns out good or evil is all up to you. He gives the dough, you make the bread. The more fame you attract the bigger danger there is because fame is a lie. You can write for fifty years and if one little girl remembers one line you can count that as a win. Mostly you will just hear the words of the Prophet, Jerry Reed . . . There ain’t no room ‘round here for a guitar man!