rosanne-cash-blog - Tumblr blog

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Haha, so you say. I was taught by the best.

You are an embarrassment to the sport of pool, and should be proud that I even let you play at my table.

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Oh, sorry if I'm intruding, sir.

I do love an empty arena.

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It's not that hard, you just write what you're feeling. It don't gotta rhyme or nothing, you can fix that once you've got the gist written down.

Oh, Gus Gus? I usually would, but he seems to have a lot on his mind, I wouldn’t wanna bother him. Do you know anything about this stuff? It’s a lot harder than I thought.

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There's a jazz song for everyone, you know. There's always one that hits them right there. And I'll keep your secret, Mrs. Jacks. I don't got many people on tour to tell it to anyways.

He’s a good choice, I’ll give you that much. I’m a fan of the ol’ swoon-worthy stuff myself, actually. I’d suppose everyone is in some way or another. Though, when I’m feeling particularly lame, I’ll sing along with The Carpenters — don’t repeat that ever.

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Not much. Though, I think you should ask that musician friend of yours. August, was it?

How much chocolate do I need to bribe you with to get you to help me write a song?

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I like Louis Armstrong. I always thought I was born in the wrong decade music-wise. I love anything with a brass section.

Country and disco? Oh, you poor thing. Then again, when I grew up, it was all classical music… my parents are absolute bores, I’m afraid. Hm, I’d say Dylan, probably. Peter might kill me if he heard that - he’s my favorite, I guess, but that’s a giant bias, but definitely Dylan. How about you? Aside from your father, of course.

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I gotta be a fan, it's almost all I know. Country and disco, blech, what a musical upbringing. If daddy had his way, he'd only sing gospel, but the Lord doesn't sell in a business like this. Who's your favourite artist, Mrs. Jacks?

You’re not a fan?

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I've had country pushed on me constantly, I know how you feel.

Oh, no, don’t even bother - if it’s not Patsy, it’s some other country crooner — no offense. I like it sporadically, don’t get me wrong, but how many bloody times can I hear ‘Crazy’ without actually going crazy?

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I'll put on something better. She gets up to change the station.

If I hear one more Patsy Cline song, I’m going to shoot myself, so no, darling, I’m not having a good day.

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She raises her eyebrows and giggles before pouring herself a glass. Tastes like...money.

Naw, they already know. I had one boy almost faint at the sight of me, I think that's pretty good! Daddy sent me away, I'm not supposed to miss him.

Pour yourself a glass - it’s expensive, so I reckon it ought to be good for something.

Mm, don’t tell the boys about that - have a man as famous as your father come along, they’ll all get an inferiority complex. You ever miss him?

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She sits down. Well, if you insist.

My daddy's all good. He's wrapping up the north-west and is heading down to California right now. Maybe he'll meet up with our tour down the line.

Oh, that’s nonsense, come on, at least enjoy a glass of champagne or something, might as well get something out of the free labor.

Er, me? I’m fine, birdie — the mascara is just burning my eyes, that’s all. You think I’d be used to it by now. How are you? Is your father well?

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She loops her arm through his. Everything goin' good, Coco?

Chinese food it is!

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Thank you kindly. It don't cost you nothin'; the boys sure don't pay me, anyhow.

Are...are you alright, Mrs. Jacks?

O-oh… well, uh, just set it down there, thanks, darling. It looks lovely, actually.

How much do I owe you for it?