Honky Tonk Blues

This past weekend, nature was on the agenda. The plan: pick apples from a near-by orchard then spend the day making apple pie and apple butter. Sunday morning, having eaten an early breakfast, we- my mother, her boyfriend Dave, and Margeaux- piled into the car and headed for the Orchard. Zipping down 212 at fifty miles an hour with the bellow of Hank William’s Honky Tonk Blues pouring from the windows, we crashed into a racing deer. Well I left my home down on the rural route, I told my pa that I was steppin’ out and find these honky tonk blues... We struck the deer head on and she was tossed flailing into the ditch on the other side of the road. Margeaux screamed, and I took a deep breath and held as if I were about to dive underwater. “OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!” repeated my mother gripping the steering wheel. Yeah these honky tonk blues…My mother slowed the car down but kept driving, “ Pull the car over,” shouted Dave. She didn’t respond, “Viv, pull the car over” repeated Dave. She slowed the car this time and came to a complete stop turning the key to the ignition as she began to cry. Yeah the honky tonk blues…hey lord I got’em, I got the ho –eee—onky tonk blues...

I love the country but, deep down, I am an urban peasant and am deluded with romantic notions of nature and how it is that my life intersects it. Growing up in the city has lead me to believe that nature is something I can let into my life or not, something I can schedule in when it is convenient or postpone when it’s not. A daily run in the Prospect Park and I’m ‘tuned-in with the elements’, a day of apple picking and whalah, I’m rugged. No one in the car got hurt but the deer died within a matter of minutes. We did not go apple picking that day, scheduled or unexpected, romantic or realistically gritty, I think we had had enough nature for one day.

I’m gonna’ tuck my worries underneath my arms, and march right back to my pappy’s farm and leave these honky
tonk blues, yeah these honky tonk blues. Hey lord I got’em, I got these ho—ee—onky tonk blues…


Though we did not go apple picking,
we still needed some apples for the pie.








We dedicated our pie, made with store
bought apples, to the deer that was killed
that day.





May she rest in peace.