Maybe I had intimations of where I was going, even back then. Check out the Walt Whitman quotation on the cover.

I like to think that I never went back to that little church in the mountains, that I walked out on that preacher, whoever he was, just as my father had walked out on another — with all of us in tow — some years before. (A story for another time.) But my next post in the December 6-12 range, this one from a year later, in 1981, has me back there — with a new attitude.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 8112.06 [Sunday, December 6, 1981]

As seems almost usual for me on Sunday morning, I woke up ill at the world. The Lord knows how hard it is for me to get up before 11 AM. I almost decided not to go to church, like every Sunday, thinking that I got nothing from the small, country service. Then I realised, as always, that they are my people and, even though I may get nothing from the service, but seeing them and feeling their friendship, that is enough. Then I also come face-to-face with the fact that the singing I dread with such passion is for them and not for me, and that, being graciously given the gift from God, it is my duty to sing for them. It should also be my desire to do so. Well, Allen met me at the door asking if what he heard about me signing with Capitol was true and he was followed closely by Butch asking the same. I quickly gave them my practiced explanation about Townhouse but they were still pleased. When time for me to sing came around, as I was getting my guitar, Raymond spoke up about my struggles with my music and my witness for the church and my hopefully impending record deal. Then totally unexpectedly he suggested a standing ovation for me and I was overwhelmed. If it’s not the Lord’s will that all this go through all right, He sure is planning to teach me a great lesson in disappointment. Even at that, though, this morning was a great blessing and I am very thankful for all those people there.

As far as my music and career go, I am constantly trying to ask with a sincere hear that the Father’s Will be done and not my own. I could live with losing this deal but not with going against His plans for me.

Oh, in church I sang “A SONG FOR CAROLINA” and “DEAR MOTHER.”

The rest of the day was the usual big chicken dinner and lazy Sunday afternoon. I did, however, add music to and edit some lyrics I wrote last night called “DO YOU EVER MISS ME”

We practiced for the Christmas program this evening then I returned home to watch “YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN” on the tube.

As always it is quite late as I write this so I’ll sign off for now . . . MC

“A Song for Carolina” is the song mentioned in the previous post for which 600 people gave me a standing ovation. While I’m sure I have somewhere the lyrics for it and “Do You Ever Miss Me,” I remember almost nothing about them. “Dear Mother” is still with me.

Captain’s Log Stardate 8112.07 [Monday, December 7, 1981]

Today marked the 40th anniversary of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor beginning World War II and the eve of the first anniversary of the death of John Lennon. Despite such depressing circumstances, I had a great day. I went to Ron’s office and Royal was there. We all talked and laughed a lot then Ron decided that, us guys being the Surefire Family, we should have our Christmas party while Royal was free here in town, so plans were laid. I then went to kick around the Mall a bit and run some errands for Mom on my way home. After a short nap, I headed for Ron’s where we all celebrated with much steak and fixin’s. The evening was wild and crazy and led in these aspects by Ronnie, the boy was going crazy. Ron and Patty gave me a nice vest. I spent most of the evening sitting with Cindy, laughing as seems usual with us. I don’t really know where she and I are heading or where either wants to be heading but we seem to be drawing closer . . . Scary!

“Ron” was Ron Weathers, who was my manager and owned a booking agency called Surefire Productions. Patty was his wife and Ronnie his son by a previous marriage. “Royal” was “Little Royal” Brown, nightclub performer and half-brother of the King of Soul, James Brown. Seriously. Cindy had been my friend since the days when we were both music majors at Mars Hill College, and she worked for Ron at the Surefire office.

Captain’s Log Stardate 8112.08 [Tuesday, December 8, 1981]

Today was pretty full. After rising at 11:00 AM I drove to Asheville to see Ron and Cindy then I headed on down to Hickory to pick up the masters on “Just You and Me” and “Take Me in Your Arms”. I stayed for an hour talking and joking with Glen, Tim, and Mark. They all wish me will and in doing so they wish themselves well because I hope to someday be able to have them as part of my band. They are great guys and great musicians.

I came home and Joe was back from school so we went Christmas shopping in Asheville and the late night was for watching TV and such. Cindy stays on my mind a lot these days. I don’t know if it’s just sparks of infatuation or if “something’s burning”. We’ve had a lot of good talks and good times since August or so but I just don’t know. It would be very nice as long as it just wasn’t for my music (or “wasn’t just for my music). A lot of girls would give me reason to believe such but not Cindy; she’s not so shallow. She’s very smart and sensitive. An excellent “catch” for a jerk like me.

Glen was a keyboard player who owned a little recording in Hickory, NC, and he was somebody that Ron knew. Glen’s guys Tim and Mark played guitar and bass, or maybe one of them played drums. My cousin Joe Plemmons was, at this time, attending UT-Knoxville.

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