RAMBLIN' FEVER

Caught this ramblin' fever long ago,
When I first heard a lonesome whistle blow.
If someone said I ever gave a damn,
Man, they damn sure told you wrong.
I've had ramblin' fever all along.

October 1st 1971 I saw Merle Haggard the first time at the South Plains Fair in Lubbock Texas. My dad took the whole family to see him. Tickets were $2.50, $3.50 and $4.50. All reserved seats. I was 9 years old. I remember being there. I remember seeing him.
By 1971 he already had 11 number one songs.  He was already the CMA and ACM's Entertainer of the Year and was riding high on Album of the year with "Okie From Muskogee." I also remember how amazing that audience sounded. That's when I fell in love with the sound of applause. There's nothing like it.
When I was playing drums for Tracy Lawrence in '93 '94 and '95 and he was selling out 16 thousand seat areas, there was nothing more amazing to me than feeling the wave of applause noise that would wash over us as we kick off hit after hit. It was my job to count us in on every song and I remember waiting till the perfect time right before it dies down and then counting us back in and how it would literally start from the back of the room and come right over us on stage. Amazing feeling! I miss that so much.

They say you should never really ever meet your heroes because they will let you down. I was lucky enough to be able to meet Merle one time. Well I didn't really meet him but I was at his house in California with his son Marty Haggard when I played drums for Marty in the late 80's. We had been there for a while and Marty kept saying he was going to come down to the game room where we had all gathered and hang with us. We got to the house mid afternoon. It was way past midnight when he finally came into the room. He walked in with a guitar and sat down on some stairs that lead into the room and started playing for us. Literally a private acoustic concert with a Hall of Fame Country Music Legend. He played songs I had never heard before. Non of the hits. 30 mins later he was gone. No words were spoken. We were all in shock basically. We plugged the juke box back in and started shooting pool again. An hour later we decided it was time to go so we headed out. The sun was coming up and we had a gig that night somewhere outside of Bakersfield. We were all standing on the front porch waiting for Marty to say goodbye to him when they both walked out and stood on the porch with us.  He didn't say much but I do remember he was kind and cool and funny. We finally said goodbye to him and he smiled and flicked a non-filtered Camel out onto the driveway and slipped back in the house. When we all walked out to the Van we were driving I bent over and grabbed his cigarette and put it in a safe place. I still have it in a box put away.
I saw Merle a few night ago at the famed Ryman Auditorium in Nashville Tn. It was built in 1843. It was the original Grand Ole Opry from 1943-1974. The perfect place to hear a country legend. He was having fun. Sang all his hits. Looked great! He had his cool white cowboy hat on and his white ostrich boots. The band was perfect. The audience sounded like 1971 in the walls of the mother church. I was 9 years old again.
I miss playing music, I miss touring. I miss the sound of the bus tires on the highway. I miss the hotels. I miss the band. I miss the applause.

Ramblin' fever,
The kind that can't be measured by degrees.
Ramblin' fever,
There ain't no kind of cure for my disease.