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From: Charlie
Email:
Remote Name: 216.40.210.27
Date: 10-Oct-2002
Time: 03:24 AM
My little brother to my youngest son;"Your daddy is what they call a troubador. He speaks in stories and songs, cause thats how troubadors communicate. When he speaks like "normal" people, nobody knows how to take him"....We wuz in Houston, I think, the gig was a bust, ole Willie had just about had it up to here^and just wanted to lay down and rest his eyes for a spell. Well Eve, sombody, probably me, forgot or lost the key to the room...while the rest of us were trying to figure out what to do, Willie said heres how ya do it..BAM..no more door..he kicked it of the hinges, and walked on in. Ole Willie is still out on the road, kicking down doors, thats who he is. He never looks back to see where he's been, or ahead to see where he's going,ask Roy. Once your Willes' friend your always his friend. Well dear, after going door to door, couch to couch, floor to floor, ole Willie screwed around and got famous...some say he's an outlaw, some say he's a legend, some say he's a jerk(those are the ones who couldn't screw him outa whatever it was they wanted)...sometimes being famous ain't worth the trouble at all..the dragon and the mouse...Darlin, the only thing ole Willie is, like Mickey, is just a songwriter...he's pretty good...he's a really nice fella...and he sings Micks' tunes...and his little girl still loves him more than anybody...and we love you Eve, Indian Paint Brushes, Blue Bonnets, And You....~>
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