DC to Memphis Road Trip: Day 2, Getting the blues

Began the day under the kind of low, dark, billowy clouds that you just want to grab and pull up over your shoulders as you roll over in bed and bury your face in the pillow.  Hit the road after breakfast and let the car eat up the rest of the miles between Virginia and Tennessee, while I put The White Stripes' Icky Thump into the cd player and sang along in an attempt to keep the weather from drowning the previous day's joyousness.

The possibility of adding a second Dead Weather show to this trip has been hovering in my mind much like today's dark clouds.  The band is in Birmingham, AL, the night before Memphis.  That show is sold out, but a compatriot from the Third Man Records chat room and I have been hunting craiglist and eBay for tickets.  On the one hand, this idea is excitingly spontaneous.  How could I miss two shows in a row and the chance to meet a fellow fan?  Not to mention that this is an opportunity to see Jack in one of the cities he sings about in the American-ised version of Van Morrison's "You Just Can't Win". Considering how much I'm looking forward to that song to begin with, that would be quite a thrill.  

On the other hand, this situation has added an element of uncertainty and complication to what was going to be a simple, free-wheeling trip. I'm a hundred miles from Knoxville, TN, and I don't yet know which direction to head when I get there-- west to Memphis or south to Birmingham?  The whole purpose of a road-trip is to be on the move, yet I'm trying to wait for answers and go forward at the same time.  It's making me a touch fretful, and the rain that's now pouring down onto the road is only stirring up that tension, rather than soothing it.

I'm bringing back ghosts

That are no longer there

I'm gettin' hard on myself

Sittin' in my easy chair

Well, there's three people in the mirror

And I'm wonderin' which one of them I should choose

Well, I can't keep from laughin'

Spittin' out these 300 mile per hour outpour blues

I'm breakin' my teeth off

Tryin' to bite my lip

There's all kinds of red-headed women

That I ain't supposed to kiss

And it's that color that never fails

To turn me blue

So I just swallow it and hold on to it

And use it to scare the hell out of you

I have a woman

Says come and watch me bleed

And I'm wonderin' just how I can do that

And still give her everything that she needs

Well, there's three people in my head that have the answer

And one of them's got to be you

But you're holding tight to it -- the answer

Singin' these 300 mile per hour outpour blues

Put on gloves, a tight scarf and wrap up warm

On this winter night

Every time you get defensive

You're just looking for a fight

It's safe to say somebody out there's got a problem

With almost anything you'll do

Well, next time they stab you don't fight back just play the victim

Instead of playin' the fool

And the roads are covered with a million

Little molecules

Of cigarette ashes and the school floors are covered

With pieces of pencil eraser too

Well sooner or later the ground's gonna be holdin' all

Of my ashes too

But I can't help but wonder if after I'm gone

will I still have these 300 mph

finger breakin', no answers, broken back, dirty cancer, bee stung and busted up, empty cup, torrential outpour blues

One thing's for sure, in that graveyard

I'm gonna have the shiniest pair of shoes