and this is a story i’ve told before. but bears repeating . . .
it’s christmas eve. clarksdale. the mississippi delta. i’m there with cin. to get away. to feel something else.
little did i know.
we’re holed up in some motel. eating food from a convenience store. the only thing open this eve.
the history of this alluvial plain bore down. my history bore down.
the bad juju was overpowering. my head felt funny. i was bent out of shape. had to get away. from this motel.
i went to the crossroads. on the edge of town. where legendary bluesman robert johnson sold his soul to the devil. he became the best player ever.
there it was lonesome, cold, rainy, windswept. awful and awesome. i fell to my knees. broke down. was wracked.
the sobbing brought no comfort. only release.
the best christmas ever.
a newsletter / tony fouhse
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