For me, it was all because of a Grateful Dead tee-shirt. That’s what I was wearing one night in a club in Houston, and it prompted a guy to strike up a conversation. We talked about music and he told me about the Kerrville Folk Festival. The rest was history.
This story illustrates how so many of us are here on a very fine thread. If, for instance, I’d been wearing a Poison tee shirt that evening, I might now be at Deathfest X, a pair of grommets in my ears, slam-dancing with some spike-haired dude with street gang tattoos, kind of like a graffiti-covered Statue of Liberty. Instead, I’m here at Kerrville in a tie-dye, lazing in the grass to the soft voice of Peter Yarrow and “Puff The Magic Dragon”.
I am sure that there is a possible combination of random events that, if they happened just right, would have the entire world’s population here. Every single human being. Plus the Kardashian family. The world would be a better place for it.
And I could win the Daytona 500 driving a Chevy Volt, even with the eight-hour pit stops to charge the battery.