I originally wrote this trip up on Facebook on the road in the spring of this year. Others were asking about it, so I’m republishing here every day this week.
Before I hit the road, my new best friend is Dave Silverman (pictured left), really top bloke and non-show off genius, worked with Jobs, the director of Monsters Inc, The Simpsons Movie and countless episodes including most of the Halloween ones.
He had the grace, after I asked for a photo for my son last night, to ask me whether I’d like him to draw my son something. I naturally came in my pants, and he drew a picture of Krusty The Clown and a message for my boy, wonderful to watch, took about 30 seconds. Bloody brilliant.
Did the music session, mentioned the Clash three times, then went to look for America. Came off the freeway going north to Dallas, got lost near Tyler, but accidentally found beautifully deserted Palestine Lake, had a dip, no fighting there between Semites, just big catfish.
Back on the road, decided to add Arkansas and Oklahoma to the list of states visited, motel it there and then tomorrow to meet a friend of a friend who lives near the CROSSROADS in Mississippi where Robert Johnson allegedly sold his soul to the devil to become the amazing blues guitarist he became.
There’s big flooding there (currently – sorry), but will find out tomorrow, we’re going out to a proper local blues bar tomorrow night in Clarksdale, Mississippi.
So, I’m at a motel called The End Of The Trail in Broken Bow, Oklahoma, it surprisingly has the internet; proper dump for truckers. However, I am still shaking as I drink this beer after events an hour ago (11pm).
Pulled over by the Police. Fuck. Got out, told I was doing 67mph in a 40mph limit. Then told that I was wobbling when I walked, looks like you’ve been drinking, sir. No I said, nothing all. (Not since 1am, but still worried it might be in the system).
Shone torch in my eyes, said they were pinned (might have been reasons for that as well), was I on any medication? No, just tired after driving 400 miles.
He told me to sit back in the car. Five minutes, later two cops come over, having trouble believing my story that my eyes are pinned because I’m tired and I was only going to Oklahoma to add a state to my list.
But the Engish accent was working and I stlll had my SXSW badge around my neck and that helped. Finally got let off, not even a caution, shook hands and lost another one of the dwindling lives.
And during it all, Badlands by Bruce Sprinsteen was playing on local radio in the car. So, I’m wearing the SXSW badge until I leave on Monday.
Onwards….but nowhere near Arkansas.