Speaking of Cannabliss, I have something from the vaults apropos. I was driving back from Pittsburgh recently – teaching a grad course in peacekeeping at Pitt – and decided to play some John Prine while speeding through the great state of West Virginia. For me this means something with a “hillbilly” twang, no disrespect intended. So, John Prine. He grew up in Kentucky and clearly wrote and played from his heart. But not with a heavy heart, even when remembering one of his favorite places, Paradise, hauled away by Mr. Peabody’s coal train. Nothing keeps a good person down. Prine never made it really big but lots of folks who make music liked his music.
And getting back to the subject, I offer Prine’s ode to the universal cure-all: “An Illegal Smile.” I get one just listening. Also, “Paradise,” as sweet a love song for a place as you’ll ever hear.