It Was Never Too Late To Undo

My Dad And I Had A Real Meeting Of The Minds. We Loved To Talk About Music, Politics, And Art. He Loved Children. The Thing I Missed Most About My Dad When He Died Was That This Person Who Really Gets Who I Am At The Core Was Gone.

I Was A Songwriter; That Was The Torch I Carried. This Is An Honorable Profession. This Is What I Do.

I Dream Of Songs. I Dream They Fall Down Through The Centuries, From My Distant Ancestors, And Come To Me. I Dream Of Lullabies And Sea Shanties And Keening Cries And Rhythms And Stories And Backbeats.

While Visiting Places In The South With My Heart Really Open, I Realized How Important People In Certain Geographical Spots Were To Me, What They Symbolize, How I'm Still Connected To Them And How Much They Are A Part Of My Ancestry, Both Musical And Real.

When I Was 18 Years Old, I Went On The Road With My Dad After I Graduated From High School. And We Were Riding On The Tour Bus One Day, Kind Of Rolling Through The South, And He Mentioned A Song. We Started Talking About Songs, And He Mentioned One, And I Said I Don't Know That One. And He Mentioned Another. I Said I Don't Know That One Either, Dad, And He Became Very Alarmed That I Didn't Know What He Considered My Own Musical Genealogy.