Palo Duro Canyon is a deeply-spiritual place where many Indians weren't slaughtered by the U.S. Army, they didn't even get that respect. Instead, the Army killed their livestock and destroyed their fields, leaving them to starve to death. There may be honor in the military somewhere but there damn sure was not any here. It's roughly equivalent in the historical analog to the cowardice of drone bombing.
(Ed: why is this park not the property of the Indians?)
Good question, Lone Ranger.
This was the last gasp of the Galactic Peace Tour but it sure was a beautiful one. There was a specific mission as I had made a painting when I was quite young of an old guy with long white hair in a black robe playing from a stage and he looked one hell of a lot like one of the incarnations, much later, of Silas Scarborough.
There was more kit than I needed but I didn't know what would be needed. I only knew the location for the painting had to have been somewhere in the Southwest so it was on me to find it. I did not know if it was in a city but I seriously doubted it and that's never been a vibe I have enjoyed anyway. Cities bring noises, smells and some really nasty people. Someone in the country may shoot you but out in the country he will have reason.
Palo Duro Canyon is near Amarillo, TX, so I was definitely on the prowl of the Southwest. Right about that time, I got news my brother was seriously ill so I decided I needed to be temporarily in a holding pattern so I went down to Fort Worth.
(Ed: using your brother as an excuse?)
No, I don't believe so. I don't believe anyone will push forward in that circumstance.
That wasn't the problem as the millstone leaped on the opportunity and that was the death of the tour. The five-star alarm bells on that were when I reviewed the map, the millstone dismissed it by saying she did not plan it.
That's the most direct warning you need, young musico. Turn that over and you will be in a baby factory watching television for the rest of your life and your head will swim it happens so fast.
The final death of the tour is irrelevant. It died.
The Galactic Peace Tour never really died because, so long as I keep breathing, it still lives. It was somewhat after that time I was gigging from Greece and I came back to Fort Worth where I started doing it again. That's been slowly degrading but there is only one theme here: I ain't dead until they put me in a box.
Right now much of the time I can't play but I don't ever consider the possibility I will never play again. Don't ever do that, young musico, because then you damn sure never will play again.
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