The day after the show in North Carolina we found a bag hanging on my parents’ gate.  This is the type of peculiar, wonderful thing that makes life there so attractive.  It turns out my parents’ friend Pat decided to stop by and leave us a present.  It contained walnuts, molassas, some music she thought I’d like (I did), honey moonshine and cherry moonshine.  

I’m not much of a drinker, but sweet fancy Moses, that moonshine was a smack in the face!

I normally don’t reveal what my song “Me and My Wagon” is about because the topic of not drinking doesn’t go over very well in bars. When I mentioned it at the show last week, I was booed. People like drinking. I get it. It wasn’t until a couple years ago that I stopped actively not drinking, and I still don’t do it very often. As a result I often find myself at bars, sober, surrounded by people who are very not sober.

Take, for example, the guy who who kept forgetting he had already given me his business card. After talking to him for a half hour I had three of them. He was going to give me a fourth, but it seems he mysteriously ran out of cards. “I don’t know where they all went.”