Chardonnay & Ring Pops & Willie Nelson

[Listen to an audio version of this blog HERE.]

I had half a glass of chardonnaynay and my head began feeling gooey, like a caramel candy left in a black car on a sunny day in a concrete city somewhere near the equator.

I stopped at a 7–11 earlier to buy some cheap gas and a ring pop, because I was feeling nostalgic and there is nothing quite like candy to take you back in time. People say that smells linger longer than memories, as do tastes, as does music. So, I found a Spotify station of old, old country music, the kind of country music full of twang and banjos and soul. The kind of country music that is a clear sort of genre, unlike the current pop-ish shit. The station featured John Prine and Hank Williams and Wynonna Judd and George Strait and Willie Nelson. I heard Willie Nelson still tours, even though he’s 87 now, and has smoked weed most his life. Shoot, most people don’t even live to be 87, much less tour across the country, waving the American flag and playing sold out stadiums to adoring fans. I’m convinced there is no one more American than Willie Nelson, what with his bandannas and cowboy hats and gravely man voice and songs like “On the Road Again.”

So I had a ring pop on my left ring finger and half a glass of chardonnaynay on my nightstand and old, old country music floating around my head like a cloud of…