Sunday, October 4, 2009

Jim Reeves


It might be an old-fashioned word to use, but abundant is the only one I can think of to adequately describe the harvest in England this Fall. Last year was so disappointing that it makes it even more satisfying to see bulging berries of sloe, blackberry, elderberry, hawthorn and rosehip vibrantly punctuating the hedgerows. And so we’ll have sloe gin, blackberry gin, damson gin and elderberry wine for Christmas; and raspberries, and apple and elderberry crumble, when the weather turns colder and we need comfort food to remind us that Spring is not so far away.

The Texas Country Music Hall of Fame
Fall in East Texas is similarly impressive. The grass is green again, and the temperature is pleasantly warm. This year’s pecans, soft and creamy, are on sale at the fruit stands, and gloriously orange pumpkins are everywhere. The smell of fresh-mown grass, wood-smoke, and horses, drifts through the air as I drive down almost empty highways lined with cedar and live oak. Snapping turtles try to grab the last of the sun, crowded on every rock on every pond.

Jim Reeves Memorial

I was in East Texas yesterday to get away from the hotel in Dallas. The Razorbacks (University of Arkansas) played the Aggies (Texas A&M) at the new Cowboys Stadium in Arlington. The Razorbacks thrashed the Aggies. The difference between the two cultures is easily observed. The parking lot has more than the usual number of beaten-up trucks, mostly with Arkansas plates. The drivers of those trucks (and their passengers) have no idea how to comport themselves in social situations. I can forgive exuberance, but not blatant disregard for the sleep requirements of (albeit temporary) neighbors. They check in to the hotel carrying oversize cooler chests. But when I challenged an Aggie t-shirt wearer at breakfast this morning, commenting on how brave I thought he was, and that (in his situation) I’d probably be keeping my head down, he made reference to a recent magazine article, that stated that “Texas A&M University now ranks No. 1 in Smart Money magazine’s national ratings for “payback ratio” — the earnings levels of an institution’s graduates compared to what they paid in tuition, fees and related costs for their undergraduate educations”. That’s just sour grapes, of course, but he has a point (although, having just seen Michael Moore’s new movie – Capitalism, A Love Story – I’m not at all prepared to agree with it).

Carthage is about a 3-hour drive from the hotel, and is far enough east to be close to Louisiana. It doesn’t have much to recommend it, but it does have a memorial to one of the all-time great country singers, Jim Reeves, and is home to the Texas Country Music Hall of Fame. I should stress that I’m not a fan of Jim Reeves’ music, but I have a great respect for the man, and what he achieved. (Parenthetically (because that’s what parentheses are for) I should add that I also don’t like punk or hip-hop. Nevertheless, they were necessary to throw a wrench into the otherwise complacently boring middle-of-the-road musical desert of their respective eras).

I was the only visitor at the Hall of Fame (apart from an intensely annoying guy from Baltimore that you’ll have to ask me about when I’ve calmed down[1]), and I have to say that I was surprised by the number of artists that I had never heard of, despite listening to quite a variety of country music. Almost everyone, on both sides of the Atlantic, will have heard of Roger Miller and Willie Nelson; if you’re older, you may have heard of Waylon Jennings, Dale Evans (partner to Roy Rogers) and Bob Wills. Most of the others have not made it outside the USA, and, I suspect, in some cases, outside Texas. Texas may be unique among all the states in its view of itself. It is alternately (depending on where you are) sophisticatedly Eastern (like Dallas), or “cowboy country” (like much of West Texas), or South-Western (like the border towns), or infuriatingly different (like Austin, which is often referred to as “California in Texas”). Above all, it regards itself almost as a separate, independent country, and so it is perhaps not surprising that some of its most acclaimed celebrities are not so well known outside the state.

On an entirely different topic, I recently heard that Roman Polanski is apparently the original five-foot Pole with which nobody would touch anything …


[1] Him: “Oh, you’re from England! Let’s see, what could we talk about … how about the way that country music was received in England versus here, when you were growing up?”
Me (sotto voce): “Bugger off!”