Recorded in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula in Nahma, MI.

*360 video included. (Adjust the quality settings, they can default to lower res).

Story Pairing

Dive bars are familiar territory to the small time gigging artist. I’ve played them from coast to coast, and the cast of characters is rinsed and repeated in almost every one. It’s almost a comforting feeling to walk into a squeaky door, get hit in the face with the smell of stale beer and dust, and hear the wall of familiar sounds that hold up every one of these establishments.

Recently I was playing at such a spot in Wyoming, and this song sprung to mind.

I love telling stories and interacting with the crowd, so I start down the path of a spiel and from the bar I hear “Shut the f**k up and play the song”. This is the sort of lovely welcoming you only get in a dive bar. A place where locals want to come and drink their week away with the camaraderie of regulars, not have a traveling musician come through and dump his/her commentary on original songs. For the sake of the story, we will call this particular sweetheart heckler “Wyoming” (so that I don’t get hate mail from the name holders of my hypothetical titling convention. I am doubtful that the state of Wyoming will bother me.).

Anyway, I pause for a bit as I take in the shout that this kind gentleman laid at my feet. I have some options here. I can go on the attack, I can take it like a mouse, or I can spin in. So I ask his name… he grumbles it between sips of his domestic. “Wyoming” (now remember, this is a placeholder name, it’s definitely not something like, oh let’s see, Steve…).

So with name in hand, I thank Wyoming for setting the vibe. “Everyone, a big round of applause to Wyoming and the warm welcome to Wyoming”. The crowd laughs awkwardly and gains some steam as Wyoming grips his piss beer a little tighter and glares my way. I tip my hat and try to push down the inner turmoil and the desire to pack up and drive far away from a place I feel unwanted. (Also let’s maybe touch on this naming convention that I opted in for, I am under no disillusion that using the place-holder title and the name of the state from which said title is inspired… that is confusing… but I am but a simple musician, and I believe in you).

I stumble through a few more songs and then take a break. I walk straight up to Wyoming, offer my hand, and tell him thanks for letting me put him on the spot. I offer to buy a beer and I give him a sticker. Dynamic changed. We ended up chatting for most of my break, and he turned out to be a pretty nice fella. For my second set he turned his stool around, nodded my way at the end of each song, and threw $5 in the tip jar when he left adding a “Thanks Ben” as he faded away.

It was crazy how I went from wanting to punch a stranger and go hide to having a new buddy and packing up with a grin that it worked out well enough. And if you ask me if I would go back and play there again, the answer would be… no. But I’d go have a beer with Wyoming at least.

I guess if there is a little moral to the story, or some sort of storytelling troupe like that… it would be that people have some pretty hard lives and it’s easy to let that push us to and over the edge, but regardless of how quick you are to judge, Busch light is a bad beer.

Song Structure

Chords:

Verse - D / G / D / G / A / D / F# / G / A / D

Chorus - G / A / D / G / A / D

Voice Memos

A picture Ben took in Olympic National Park. It's a lone tree and reminds me of how traveling alone can feel so solitary when you know others you love wouldn't want to be there. — **No Notebook Page**

Written in 2018

Lyrics

Gonna get where you're going

Gonna button it up

Spend your last dollar on your last full cup

Keep scooting and dragging

On your blistering feet

Chasing that high everytime you meet

Wrangle that mustang and you ride it through town

Hit the gas if your slowing down

Keep dropping those pennies

And your nickels and dimes

You'll make more when you make the time

Keep racing your shadow

Leave him far behind

If hes trailing, the sun still shines

Pull your hat over red and tired eyes

Rest your back when you're out of tries

I know that you

Aren't much for leaving

We both know, that I am

Find your favorite chair

In your favorite place

I’ll sit beside you when I can

Your spinning them tires

There’s holes in the shoes

Every mile you borrowed left a bruise

When your tired of reading

Every passing sign

You aren’t lasting and that's just fine

They'll take another till you're drinking alone

Pay the bill and stumble home