Fair Warning

If you ever find yourself standing with me in a little churchyard just north of Greenwood, Mississippi, staring down at Robert Johnson's newly marked "official" gravesite at 4 in the afternoon, and I say, "Sure, we can go home via Tupelo," you should grab the keys, run back to the car, head back on into town out to I-55 and up to I-40 and home. Just leave me there, with the dead folks and the strange row of cacti. That way, you're only about five hours from home and minus the bad influence of me. Going through Tupelo... well, at the least, you're going to have to slow down to let the high speed chase go by and wait for me to finish dancing at the stop on the Natchez Trace called "The Witches' Dance"--Yes, I said, the Natchez Trace, where traffic goes 50 mph--so you've got to figure it's going to take you at least 8 1/2 hours to get back to Nashville if not longer. So, more later, much later, tomorrow morning.