BoogMusic

This has nothing to do with music, but I really hope that, for his sake, brilliance does not languish in shit and Steve Strasburg does not suffer the fate of Walter Johnson- pitching excellently for a Washington team that, perennially, just stinks.

In the fall of 1997 I worked in a record store in the Pearl Street mall in Boulder.  That was a long time ago, so it’s probably safe to admit now that I stole a Hank Williams cd from the storeroom.  I had never heard any Hank Williams before that day, but I definitely would recommend going and stealing some right away.  Sorry Rocky Mountain Records.

When I was twenty one I got dumped real bad, drank a lot of whiskey and listened to Hank Williams.  Same thing happened when I was twenty eight.  Same thing’ll happen if (or knowing my luck, when) I get dumped again.  The best part of that equation has always been the Hank.

There’s no better salve for the loser soul than the music of Hank Williams.  No dead man has ever been a better friend to me.  God bless Hank Williams.  Excuse me while I go get drunk.