Down in DixieLand
Wednesday, April 16, 1997 by Dave Winer.
The song for the day is Little Feat's Dixie Chicken.
It's a song about songs!
I've seen the Bright Lights of Memphis, and the Commodore Hotel, where underneath a street lamp, I met a Southern belle.
She took me to the river where she cast her spell. And in that Southern moonlight, she sang her song so well.
We made all the hot spots. My money flowed like wine. And then the lowdown southern whiskey (yeah!) began to fog my mind.
And I don't remember churchbells, or the money I poured down, or the white picket fence and boardwalk, or the house at the edge of town.
Oh but boy do I remember the strain of her refrain, and the nights we spent together, and the way she called my name.
Well it's been a year since she ran away, yes that guitar player sure could play. She always liked to sing along, and he was always handy with a song!
Then one night in the lobby of the Commodore Hotel I chanced to meet a bartender who said he knew her well.
And as he handed me a drink he began to hum a song, and all the boys there, at the bar, began to sing along.
If you'll be my dixie chicken, I'll be your Tennessee lamb. And we can walk together down in Dix-ie-land.
What a song!
Every so often you meet a Tennessee Lamb. When that happens, you gotta stop and have the experience. You may numb out, but those white picket fences are great medicine!
And be sure, when you meet up with the guys in the bar, sing along -- with a smile, and let the pleasure of the memory roll thru you.
Oh the freedom of the net was a great thing! Is it gone? Only time will tell. Now we seem to be in a different mode, with its own pleasures and rewards, of course.
I wanted to take a hiatus after the intensity of the series of Java pieces I did earlier this month, starting with Toolboxes. The last piece in the chain, Great Walls of FUD was a good place to settle, a fine stopping point.
How to move on? That's already been answered.