This is the kind of place I visit every night in my dreams, but I wasn't sure it really existed until now. The Moron Brothers of Kentucky have built themselves the ideal porch for some banjo picking, and fulfilled my simpleminded fantasy of freedom in the bargain. I've been in some nice cabins, I've been in some nice boats, but never a perfect marriage of the two. In my mind's eye, I was here when I recorded "Goodtimes in the Swamp" for Two-Headed Hippopotamus on a Bootjack. Thanks to my dad, who was absolutely right when he said he thought I'd get a kick out of this:
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