Well, it was only a mention, but who’d a’ thunk I’d be mentioned in a glorious rag like Vanity Fair. I am so outside my territory mixing with those folks. Then the sun goes behind a cloud and I am just me again — a slightly dotty, gone-to-seed hillbilly with a voice that is somehow younger than all that, but with few pretentions toward any real stardom. I am grateful beyond words that people still like to listen to me, and thankful that the little bulb that is my light is burning somewhat brighter just now. The truth is, I can’t help singing, so I’ll just keep at it and hope for the best, like the farmer who won the lottery. Someone asked what he planned to do with the money, and he replied, “Weil, I guess I’ll just keep farmin’ till the money runs out.”
Next week, and the week after, it’s the studio, and I’ll be singing my head off. Is it time to start taking orders for the next CD? I’ll be doing that soon.