Read Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die: Musings From the Road Online

Authors: Willie Nelson,Kinky Friedman

Tags: #Entertainment & Performing Arts, #Personal Memoirs, #Musicians, #Music, #Nonfiction, #Biography & Autobiography

Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die: Musings From the Road (7 page)

BOOK: Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die: Musings From the Road
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The drunk said, “I don’t know, I just got here.”

A man came out of an antique store carrying a large grandfather clock. He bumped into a drunk and busted the grandfather clock into a thousand pieces.

The guy said, “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”

The drunk said, “Why don’t you wear a wristwatch like everybody else?”

A couple was making out on the second floor of a house of ill repute.

They got a little too close to the window, fell out on the sidewalk, and just kept going. A drunk knocked on the door of the house of ill repute and the madam came to the door. The drunk said, “Excuse me, ma’am, but your sign fell down.”

A drunk was lying on the street with his head in the gutter. A priest saw him, came over and reached down, pointed his finger in the drunk’s face, and said, “You’re going to h-e-l-l because you are d-r-u-n-k.”

The drunk looked up at him and said, “And you are going to h-e-l-l because your finger smells like p-u-s-s-y!”

T
HE
BANK
ROBBER
SAID
, “S
TICK

EM
UP
.” T
HE
CLERK
SAID
, “S
TICK
what up?” The bank robber said, “Don’t confuse me, this is my first job.”

BEE MAN

D
ECEMBER
8, 2011

Lost Bee man today

He said the world is too crazy

And he just passed away

He was so tired of living that he died every day

Lost the Bee Man today

This was not a good day. The Bee Man died today, the world economy sucks, and it looks like a long winter. Twenty million people are out of work. It all started when we began taking the small family farms away. We began moving farmers off the land so we could build golf courses and subdivisions, and sold them to people who couldn’t afford them. Big corporations took over everything, polluting the land with chemicals and fertilizers. Oh well, what does it matter what
I
think? Who gives a damn really? By the time this book comes out, me and Bee Man will probably be back together playing music, and the world as we knew it will be gone. Our so-called elected officials will enslave us all unless we grow some big balls and throw all the bastards out who can’t seem to remember who it is they actually work for.
You can be president and I’ll help you, or I’ll be president and you can help me clean house.
That is of course if it matters one hill of beans
who
the president is. I believe the president has no real power anymore. I believe Congress has no balls. Maybe they even love it the way it is. It’s kind of like Texas, where no one is in control.

I
N
F
ORT
W
ORTH
AROUND
C
HRISTMASTIME
, I
WOULD
SEE
A
GUY
with no legs. He had roller skates on his knees, and he sold pencils, wrapping paper, and Christmas cards. I wrote this song about him:

PRETTY PAPER

Pretty paper pretty ribbons of blue

Wrap your presents to your darling from you

Pretty pencils to write I love you

Oh pretty paper pretty ribbons of blue

There he sits all alone on the sidewalk

Hoping that you won’t pass him by

Should you stop better not much too busy

You’d better hurry my how time does fly

And in the distance the ringing of laughter

And in the midst of the laughter he cries

Pretty paper pretty ribbons of blue

Wrap your presents to your darling from you

Pretty pencils to write I love you

Oh pretty paper pretty ribbons of blue

N
EW
Y
EAR

S
D
AY
, 2012

Yesterday was quite a day. Bee’s memorial service started at noon in Luck, Texas, at the church. There were a lot of great shots, clips, and stories of Bee just being Bee . . . priceless.

Bee Man was a very funny guy who would do anything for a laugh. One time in Vegas, we played a casino where
Mary Poppins
had been staged just before we arrived and they still had all the flying equipment. I was singing “Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground,” and in the middle of my guitar solo, the people started laughing and laughing. I thought they were laughing at my guitar solo, which was, I thought, good but not funny. I looked up behind me just in time to see Bee flying across the stage. It was the funniest thing I had ever seen, and I think it still is. God bless the Bee Man.

Bee Man

FAMILY

I
would like to brag on the family a little. The poster says
WILLIE
NELSON
AND
FAMILY
, which really covers a lot of territory, because it consists of my sister, Bobbie; my wife, Annie; my children, Lana, Susie, Paula, Amy, Lukas, and Micah; my grandchildren, Nelson, Bryan, Rachel, Martha, Rebecca, Anthony, and Raelyn; and my great-grandchildren, Andrea, Dean, Zack, Brody, Aiden, Vivien, Ira, and Isabella.

My daughters: Lana, Paula, Susie, and Amy

The Fowler grandchildren: Rachel, Martha, Bryan, and Nelson

SUSIE NELSON

The art of the Holy Spirit is in the song. To go to my father’s concerts is a loving experience. Everyone is singing along to his songs. Out in the crowd, it’s a revelation. There are a lot of hugs out there. His 1960s recordings, I really enjoy. You do not hear arrangements like that anymore.

The gospel music, like “Family Bible,” is the Holy Spirit of God in action. My father’s been moving pretty fast. I enjoy what he does. I would have never known so many people or learned about their different personalities. There are things that I would have never known anything about, like the importance of the farmers, the seeds, our food, and our water. He really cares for his horses. One day an old truck pulled into Luck with fifty sad, skinny horses. Now they are fat and sassy with plenty of spirit!

One evening, I wanted to add water to a horse bowl, so I entered the pen. The moon was shining bright and allowed enough light to see to pour the water. The horse got spooked and ran to be by my side. With his huge body, he gently moved me out of danger. I will never forget that. I will never know what spooked him or what he was saving me from. The horses are special. I am happy to get to know them, and my father is right: “the horse is human!”

I would have never known about biodiesel fuel, the importance of clean air, and peace on earth. Willie’s grandchildren Rebecca and Anthony enjoy his ranch, and his music and movies. His great-grandson Zack is now singing. He has given me a lot to be grateful for.

Susie Nelson and Willie’s grandson
Anthony Brewster

I’ve always thought his red bandanna was the image of the crown of thorns Jesus wore on the cross. I love the bus and how he shares it with his fans, allowing them to come on and talking with them and signing autographs. Then they are gone. It’s quiet now. Everyone is watching TV like nothing ever happened that evening! As if there was not an aisle full of people all talking about the same thing . . . his music.

Willie’s granddaughter Rebecca with her husband, Chris, and Willie’s great-grandson Zack

It is an amazing experience, and by faith and grace are we saved. To travel as much as my father does, to sing three hours each night, to travel hundreds of miles each day, to sign autographs for a long time after his concerts, then go record for three days. It’s amazing to watch. The art of the Holy Spirit is in the songs and the movies he has made.
Songwriter
was the one film where I had the revelation that he was famous. Maybe it was because it was Nashville and that he was a record executive, but that was his part. So I had to let go of wondering what he was doing next. Daughters are funny; they like to know where their fathers are from time to time.

 

M
ARY
H
ANEY
WAS
MY
OLD
AND
DEAR
FRIEND
FROM
LONG
AGO
. Turns out Mary and I had a child together called Renee, who has a daughter, Noelle, who has a daughter, Jordan, who is a beautiful young girl that I am proud to call my great-granddaughter. My newly discovered family took a while to surface, and when it did, it was a surprise. Mary was a sweet lady, and I’m glad we had a family together. She would be very proud of them all. So that makes an even bigger bunch of great kids that would make any parent very proud, and they all are very smart . . . naturally.

Beyond my blood relatives are a group of friends who make up the rest of Willie Nelson and Family.

Paul English, one of my best friends for fifty years at least, is still a member of the band, along with Billy English on drums. Billy is Paul’s brother who took over for Paul when he was sick. Paul is back now and playing great.

BOOK: Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die: Musings From the Road
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