Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die – Musings From The Road, by Willie Nelson
This book comes to me from the hands of an old friend, a guy involved in the entertainment industry, a fellow who shares much of my view of life, who has frequently gifted me with silly, nonsensical things.
Silly and nonsensical things? You’re not saying a book by Willie, the reigning sage of country music and a true American treasure, is silly and nonsensical, are you? Well…yes and no. All right then, you ask, what is the book like?
Sometimes, within all the meaningful books and great literature around you, there might just lie a whimsical work. One not too deep, perhaps humorous, something that’s meant to purely entertain, without all the pedantry of deep literature, and with the import of an underinflated tire. I do admit that that’s what Nelson accomplishes in Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die. He’s referring in the title, of course, to his pot smoking habit, and he tosses that one off as easily as the many overused, corny jokes he shares with the book’s readers.
Willie’s not one to dwell on self-importance; in fact, this book is more about his family and friends than himself. In it he comes across as an engaging band member, a life-long friend of many, and a man who dearly loves his family. In fact, he’s ceded a large number of the passages in the book to his wife and children.
I often get rid of books that don’t teach me something about the world, about life, about writing, and I could easily put this one in that category, but I’m going to hang onto it. One day I’ll enjoy watching someone peruse my library, my collection of the finest and best, and sizing me up based on the books I own. Then I’ll smile at his or her quizzical reaction in finding this one stuck among them.
My rating: 17 of 20 stars