What Music Are You Listening to? - March, 2023

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Sep 20, 2019
I’m sailing on back getting ready for the long haul
Leaving everything behind
If I stay here I’ll lose it all
The bandits will rob me blind
I’m trying to feed my soul with thought
Gonna sleep off the rest of the day
Sometimes nobody wants what you got
Sometimes you can’t give it away


Briar Lee

Sep 4, 2021
Humansville Missouri
I was 13 in September 1971 when my father died, and his milk checks stopped in October when Mama sold his dairy herd. That winter propane was 32 cents a gallon, and we burned only wood that winter of 71.

We weren’t ever poor, but the issue was in doubt, you know?

But we discovered all that alfalfa hay the dairy cows didn’t eat sold in January for more money than Mama made the entire year teaching school, and in 1972 Mama got a third of the crops with no expenses, and after selling another big bunch of alfalfa in the winter of 72 come 1973 my mother needed a tax deduction.

She had the extra money to build about a mile and a half of very much needed fences.

There was a local alcoholic that lived in Spout Spring Hollow named Red Mauzey, and my mother contracted with Red for him to build the fence for two dollars and hour, plus meals. To my surprise, Red asked if he could hire me to help, and he paid me a dollar an hour, half and half, of what he earned.

At noon each day, we’d drive Red’s hundred dollar pickup to the house to eat Mama’s fried chicken and home baked pies and food I’ve never again found tasted so good, after a morning swinging an 18 pound hammer.

There’s a Trutone radio in my Daddy’s milk barn, and it played nothing but solid gold country, fifty years ago this summer, when I got my first job with Red, building fence.