Walking Off These Blues

Most tributes to “Fats” Domino will mention the more publicized “Blueberry Hill.”  My favorite will always be, “Walking To New Orleans.”

It was the early sixties.  I could feel the despiration in his voice as I walked cornfield rows, chopping weeds in hot, summer heat. It was a miserable job, and I’d rather not have been there–but, I couldn’t quit.  Had to keep on walking.

Antoine “Fats” Domino, you’ll have lots of company in the rock & roll hall of fame in the sky.  In my mind, you’ll always be “Walkin’ To New Orleans.”

I’ve got no time for talkin’

I’ve got to keep a-walkin’

Gonna’ need two pairs of shoes

When I get done walking these blues

Cause I’m walkin’ to New Orleans

New Orleans is my home

That’s the reason why I’m goin’

RIP Midnight Rider

I’ve been looking here and there, searching everywhere, for a story idea to jump out from the bushes.

It’s either a way with words or a war with words–never in-between.

Couldn’t get on WP for a time, and was going to use that for an excuse.

I can’t reflect on the passing of Gregg Allman, without strains of “Midnight Rider” running through my head.

Bluesy, Southern Rock from the land of hot, humid summers, kudzu, and sweet tea–my favorite genre of music.