February 20, 2012
Scene from an imaginary video work
in the manner of William Eggleston’s Stranded in Canton.
UPDATE: The link right above will take you to an hour-plus edit of “Stranded in Canton.” An Eggleston voice-over accompanies.
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“I’m gonna whip you with this gun barrel.” Jerry McGill.
Jerry McGill was a piece of work.
Via Boogie Woogie Flu.
I read he evaded capture by the FBI for years while playing guitar for Waylon Jennings, sometimes dressing in drag to avoid detection. But maybe that’s just part of his legend.
I’m with Maxwell Scott, the journalist who has one of the last words in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance: “When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.”
I wish I hadn’t forgotten half the pertinent details of a Memphis story I had from a one-time Memphis journalist. It was about the Peabody Hotel ducks and a hippie duck-caretaker.
I’m really not with the “print the legend” school of journalism, but it’s a great line.
“Back in the days when everybody liked Quaaludes”: from Eggleston’s reminiscent voice-over.
That resonates, although I never liked Quaaludes.
I’m guessing they weren’t rolling on quaaludes alone.
Another thing I read is Jerry McGill is or was living in Alabama.
Jerry McGill might be living just over the hill from Miss Nell. Or from my friends Lee and Anna.
Would Miss Nell say that Jerry McGill is a bird, do you think?
That is an inspired thought, Shelia. I would like to get those two together. Deron, you need to be on standby with your cameras.
Okay, where would Jerry McGill be? In north Alabama (Muscle Shoals) or the southern part of the state with the other criminals. Ha ha.
What? No criminals in Muscle Shoals?
When I worked in Birmingham the former governor, Big Jim Folsom, would call and carry on about how south Alabama had hijacked the entire state and that was why there had been so many problems. Big Jim and his chauffeur would cause a stir by taking off now and then and no one would know where they were. Looking for Jerry McGill, I bet.
Disguised in drag and looking for Jerry McGill.
Also, it’s hard for me not to think of it as Mussel Shoals. Makes so much more sense. Which is why I love the fact that it is Muscle Shoals.
We told Miss Nell the criminals had moved.
The Cherokee called it the mussel place. That became Mussel Shoals, then it was misspelled. Or something like that.
I knew mussels had to enter into it somehow.
Also, you know Miss Nell will be wise to the presence of criminals. Anywhere.
I am sure I told this. A man was tailgating us when I was little, on a back road in Tennessee. He bumped our car and Miss Nell pulled over, got out and opened with, “Now why would you do this?” He was a ringer for Hank Williams and was reeling drunk. There was no damage and he apologized profusely while she lectured him.
Jerry McGill could probably use a good talking to as well.
That part of the Tennessee River was ripe with mussels for some reason.
Carole, I’m on it.
Carole, I don’t remember that! About Miss Nell lecturing the drunk Hank WIlliams-lookalike tailgater. That’s great.
I bet she could tell that Jerry McGill to quit acting the fool and no mistake.
There were loads of mussels near Davenport, Iowa (on the Mississippi) and near Metropolis, Illinois (on the Ohio). A friend and I once interviewed an old man in Metropolis who knew all about fresh-water mussels and the pearl button industry. Somewhere stashed away I have a mussel shell from Metropolis with a hole drilled out of it.
Then later confide, “That one’s a bird.”
I could die with a smile on my face knowing that Miss Nell had called Jerry McGill a bird. Either to his face or as an aside.
I love your photo, Sheila.
Why, thank you, Rick. I mainly posted it as a kind of off-kilter lure to entice people into the Eggleston video. As soon as I looked at it, I thought, Oh my soul, that looks like a still from some video from the early 1970s, like from Patti Smith’s days with Sam Shepard or like “Stranded in Canton.” So it’s kind of a way of looking at my past through an image of me as I am now. Or something like that.
I’m glad you like it. I kinda do, too, truth to tell.
Trying to collapse time. I’ve got me a birthday coming up tomorrow (and I’m really not saying this by way of soliciting felicitations — honestly, once you reach the double digits, it ain’t no big thang), and I guess I’ve been thinking about me as I was and me as I am and trying to reconcile all my many selves. The photo is part of that reconciliation.
I understand re aint no big! The photo does look like it belongs in the Eggleston video. The part where you and Jerry, you know, compared guns.
Me and Jerry. Compadres.
Compañeros.
Happy double digits, my dear.
XOR
Mille grazie, punkin. I’m une femme d’un certaine age! And how cool is that?
Coolest of the cool.
XOsomemoreR
Happy birthday, Sheila!
Why, thank y’all. It actually falls on the 21st, but I’ll take good wishes whenever I can get them.
I remember Eggleston at the Art Institute in Chicago a couple years ago. He was elegantly dressed in a dark suit and deep lavender tie, signing copies of the exhibit book. The lower floor of the new wing was packed with Eggleston admirers, the galleries filled with his photos. But I remember his photos being very bright and delineated, almost harsh, when in color. Your self-portrait, Sheila, seems softer to me…Like it!
Jerry McGill is alive and well, lives in Huntsville, Al. — with me!
Jerry McGill,The Original Rock and Roll Outlaw was a sweet,loving young man when I first met him. Fifty years later he’s a lot older, a little wiser but still the same sweet, loving guy I knew so long ago. He’s had some rough years, done some crazy things but along the way he wrote some great songs, played with some of the best musicians around and entertained a whole bunch of people.
Legends are funny things, made of half fact and half fiction. They’re fun to read about but hard to live up to and hard to live down —