I slept for an hour in the front seat of a pickup truck last night. I think I’m reaching the age where I’m beginning to realize that I can’t blues fest without proper accommodations anymore. I woke up with the whiskey flu after dozing for an hour and then just got up and walked around downtown Clarksdale until the people I was with decided to wake up. This was a crazy weekend. Mostly good. All’s well that ends well. Or something.