Friday, September 27, 2024
I think it was in the fall of 1974 when my roommate in college introduced me to the music of Jerry Jeff Walker. Some of you will recognize his name immediately as the singer songwriter of the iconic tune Mr. Bojangles and one of the founders of the music which has come to be known throughout the world as the Outlaw Sound. He and his musician friends Ray Wylie Hubbard, Guy Clark, Jimmy Buffet, Michael Martin Murphy, Gary P. Nunn, Willie Nelson, Townes Van Zandt, and others created a sound and feel which was unique and immensely popular. Based out of Austin, it is still popular today.
I have been listening to Jerry Jeff for 50 years and know all his songs by heart. His cassette tapes wore out long ago, but I have managed to download most all his work, which I listen to regularly. I never seem to tire of hearing his music.
It is hard for me to explain why Jerry Jeff means so much to me. Something about his lyrics simply connect to my heart, and, in so many ways, they tell the story of my life, too. There is a connection I felt when I first heard his music, and it still burns bright.
I have been to see Jerry Jeff in concert perhaps 20 times, and only God knows how many iced cold Adolphus C. Coors I consumed. I had the pleasure of booking one of his concerts, and, over the years, had several chances to sit down and visit with him and learn firsthand just a little about the man behind the music. Unfortunately, Jerry Jeff died a couple of years ago due to complications from cancer. I sure do miss going to a concert hall and seeing my old compañero, but he lives every time I turn on his music.
This past weekend, I went to see Django Walker in concert. He is the son of Jerry Jeff. I had heard good things about Django, but I had never had a chance to see him in person. I was curious what the experience would be like, and I was certainly not disappointed. In fact, I was thrilled.
Django has a very nice voice, and his songs carried the same sort of interesting, heart touching lyrics his dad was famous for. At one point in the show, Django sang a song he wrote about his famous father, and the air in the room got very heavy. It was apparent the crowd was pleased and touched somewhere down deep. It was a good feeling for all of us and something special.
After the show, I got backstage and introduced myself to Django and found him to be a very nice and open sort of person. I told him how much his dad had meant to me and the difference his music had made in my life. I also told him that I knew his dad was proud of him … and then I shook his hand and told him, “I am proud of you, too, son.” He looked me in the eye, and we nodded heads. There wasn’t anything else to say but, “so long…” However, for the instant, we both knew we shared something. And it was special. I don’t know of anything but music that can do that … and isn’t that special?
Thought for the day: “One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain” Bob Marley.
Until next time…I will keep ridin’ the storm out!
