Country Sleepers, Jukebox Weepers And Settin' The Woods On Fire

The sky draped over the treetops like a huge, black tarpaulin with a thousand tiny pinpricks for stars, and the soft breeze of late September held the scent of hot, dusty roads and California sage. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I stepped from the sputtering Greyhound and into the night air at the small bus depot on the edge of nowhere. The earthy aroma mixed for a moment with the pungent smell of gasoline from the nearby pumps. I paused, breathed in deeply, and wondered just what might be next in line for me. More a wide spot in the road than a proper terminal, the depot was merely a deserted waylay station for quick refueling, devoid of life, charm or comfort. From there, the departing passenger like myself was left on his own to reach their final destination. Stretching my legs for the first time in what felt like hours, I collected my bag from the solemn driver who never said a word, lit my last cigarette and wondered off into the silent, empty darkness and towards the nearest town.

The lamps along the roadway were widely spaced, creating long stretches of darkness from pole to pole. In between, there was nothing but the sound of gravel crunching beneath my feet, broken only by the occasional whoosh of a passing truck or the howl of a coyote from a distant ridge top. The road signs all displayed the inherent trademark of rural living in this gold mining country --- hills that are haunted by the ghosts of countless prospectors who came to find their fortunes --- each pocked with bullet holes to ward off boredom. They might easily double as a notice to strangers about to enter into the world of their old ways in these insular mountain communities. Walking the shoulder with bag in hand, my thoughts wondered restless and troubled. It's funny how life can throw you into a tailspin at the drop of a dime. Sometimes the warning signs are there for you to see, but instead, you stand frozen in stasis like a deer in the headlights, hoping against hope for divine intervention. Other times you're caught entirely off guard, like witnessing a car crash, helpless, unable to do anything but watch the carnage unfold. The cruelest cut is that regardless of circumstance, you're left with the consequences, feeling as though you've broken every bone in your body. My bones were aching now, and my mind reeled from the events of the last few days. I was falling hard and fast, but I had no idea just how far I might go.

Feeling parched from the dusty, fine ground dirt of a long, dry summer, I looked forward to rest, savoring the prospect a developing a relationship with a strong drink at the first saloon I encountered. The elixer held promise of soothing my arid throat, but more so, to soften my frayed nerves from what now had become a very long and bumpy journey. I had no particular plan or purpose at hand. I only knew that I was running from something I'd hoped to leave far behind me, but to what end, I just didn't know.

I was signaled to the approaching edge of town by the glare of light from a late night convenience store. Its parking lot was empty, save for one car that likely belonged to the proprietor inside. As I neared the establishment, my ears filled with the hum of a battered ice vending machine. Approaching the entrance, the buzz of neon harmonized with the hum from the cooler, creating the unique and mystifying music of electricity. The screen door opened easier than I expected, revealing a gray whiskered old timer behind the counter who threw me a suspicious glance. Determining that I posed no threat, he went back to his newspaper diet, completely ignoring me from that point on. Buying a pack of Lucky's and a deck of cards, I asked the old man for the whereabouts of a well stocked tavern and a friendly face. He stoically directed me to the Calico Saloon with the assurance that there, a man could find as much stiff drink as he could possibly handle. He added there may even be a room to let, provided the barkeep was in a generous mood. Thanking him for his suggestion, I stepped back out into night, lit another smoke and headed for my new, and only destination.

The Calico was an old west sawdust kind of affair. Its worn and creaking floorboards had no doubt seen the girth of American history trod across its tired grain. The kind of place where drinks probably once flowed quite freely, the hapless 49'er spending his hard earned coin for an inebriated mind, only to be hit up for a handsome tariff on the way out, lest he wished for trouble on his claim. Dimly lit, the yellowed walls were stained from a century and a half of cigarette and cigar smoke, and the smell of one too many spilled beers permeated the thick air. On those walls, artifacts from a bygone day hung like tarnished jewelry from neck of a grand old dame, down on her luck. Surveying the room, I spotted rusted panning trays, spades, and various tools of the mining trade. Weathered prospectors stared from tattered photographs, and news clippings told the story of coffee pots that once percolated with the most acidic of brews, a mix of coffee grounds, chicory, sweat and the rich Sierra dirt. Off in the far corner were two souls, man and woman, married no doubt for 30 some years with nothing left to say except, "Ready for another round?" Staring silently at their drinks, they didn't seem to notice I'd even entered the room. At the far end of the bar sat a few more locals, hard working blue collar guys with some Jefferson's in their pocket and dust in their hair. They lingered late, looking to me as though they were avoiding the return to their wife and kids for as long as possible. Over beers, they talked of power tools and endless unfinished home projects needing attention. Between them all, a heavy sort of melancholia spread across the room and sadness hung in the air like a bad smell. I had hoped to find a friendly face, but there were none to be found. They all looked as lost as myself and that suited me fine. I was in the company of my own kind. Soaking it all in, I settled like raindrops on a weathered bar stool and ordered the drink I'd craved since that wide spot on the highway. It ran like water down my chalky pipes and the taste of its promise called for another cigarette. Lighting up, I ordered a second round and wandered over to the jukebox. Leaning intently into its dancing lights, I pondered the choices I was about to make. Dropping a handful of quarters into the coin slot, I punched B13 and immediately the sound of heartbreak filled the room. It floated through the air and mingled nicely with the loneliness. I walked back slowly to the stool and took my place at the bar. Raising the shot glass to my lips, I began tending to my wounds and confronting the ghosts that were now haunting me.

©2008 Miles Mellough

Part One

1) I Can Almost See It/Linda Ronstadt
2) Funny How Time Slips Away/Willie Nelson
3) Brass Buttons/Gram Parsons
4) Cryin' Over You/Rosie Flores
5) My House Is Not A Home Anymore/Tim Armstrong
6) Tennessee Blues/Doug Sahm
7) 'The Television Mission'
8) Stompin' At The Savoy/The Country All-Stars
9) I Flew Over Our House Last Night/Joe Henry
10) When Will I Be Loved/The Everly Brothers
11) I Wish I Didn't Love You So/K.D. Lang
12) Unfaithful Servant/The Band
13) Sittin' On Top Of The World/Vasser Clements
14) Cry, Cry, Cry/Johnny Cash
15) 'The Television Mission'
16) Be Real/Wayne Douglas
17) Pipe Dreams/Asleep At The Wheel
18) This Broken Heart/The Mavericks
19) Don't Put No Headstone On My Grave/Charlie Rich
20) From A Kitchen Table/Dave Alvin
21) Reason To Cry/Lucinda Williams
22) Born To Love You/Michael Nesmith
23) 27/Tom Freund

Part Two

1) God May Forgive You (But I Don't)/Rosie Flores
2) Chanel No.#5/American Music Club
3) My Dear Mama/Kimm Rogers
4) She's Leaving Me Because She Really Wants Too/Lyle Lovett
5) Crazy/Willie Nelson
6) Settin' The Woods On Fire/Hank Williams
7) Ooh Las Vegas/Gram Parsons
8) 'The Happy Hour News'
9) Wrapped In My Sweet Savior's Arms/Grey Delisle
10) Tears Of Rage/The Band
11) Anytime/Buddy Emmons
12) If You've Got Leaving On Your Mind/Patsy Cline
13) Girl In A Car/Kim Richie
14) Fool No.#1/Raul Malo
15) 'Channel 6, The Hot One For The High Desert'
16) If He's Ever Near/Linda Ronstadt
17) The Image Of Me/Conway Twitty
18) Do Something/Chet Atkins, Homer Hayes & Jethro Burns
19) Wine Colored Roses/George Jones
20) The Hole He Said He'd Dig For Me/Jerry Lee Lewis
21) River Of Love/T-Bone Burnett
22) Joy/Harry Nilsson
23) If I Should Dream Of You (Don't Wake Me Up)/Stephen Yerkey

To download Part One, click here. For Part Two, here.