When I got to Athens, Ga. in 1974 Tom Waits played in Memorial Hall. The room was dark the lights slowly came up and a figure was leaning on an antique gas pump. Tom Waits looked just like Jimbo Moore in a cloud of camel smoke. Then he sang one of many deadbeat down on your last lucky strike troubadour ballads. I was sold. I carried a half pint of Jim Beam and a pack of Luckies for a year. I also hitchhiked with the aforementioned Jimbo until a couple of GI’s outside of Ft. Bragg decided we didn’t need our wallets anymore. At gun point. I did not hitchhike any more but many years later I can still do a mean “INVITATION TO THE BLUES”. -ML
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.