Carter’s “Field of Dreams”

If you build it, he will come.” That’s a quote from the 1989 film “Field of Dreams” starring Kevin Costner. I’ve only seen it once, but the power of its message is still with me today. Costner’s character Ray Kinsella, dares to pursue an “against all odds” dream to build a baseball field on his Iowa farm. There are many reasons for this pursuit that I won’t go into here. But he had to lay it all on the line to make it happen, including sacrificing his corn crop which was his income, convincing his wife and family and continuing to push through when faced with what seemed like insurmountable odds. CRAZY! What makes a person do this? Good question! In fact I find myself in a similar situation.

 I’ve been working on a dream for about 12 years now. It came out in the form of a CD first, “Neighborhood of Secrets” then in 2012 I released my memoir “Playin’ on the Tracks” and followed it up with a live show based on the book. Even though life has hit hard, not pulling any punches these past few years, I’m more convinced than ever to keep going.

 So many people have asked us to come do the show in their communities and that is our goal. One way to get there is having a film to help the booking agencies see what they are booking. So August 2nd, 2014 Barny, my girls “Carter’s Chord” and I are taking a film crew to the Towne Centre Theatre in Brentwood TN to film my show “Playin’ on the Tracks—LIVE!”

 Reaching out publicly and asking for help is one of the most challenging parts of this journey for me. I don’t have a company backing me, or some big sponsor writing me a blank check. What I have are people like yourself who have been moved to help through my funding campaign at

 Every gift that comes in from $10 all the way up to whatever, is like another piece of the puzzle coming together to make a beautiful picture and my artist’s soul is moved to keep going. “Film it Carter, and they will come…” If you haven’t already done so, please click on the link above and watch the video that explains a little more about “Playin’ on the Tracks—LIVE!”

 I’m posting this blog on every bit of social media I can find, not because I’m comfortable with asking for financial support, but because this is the best way I know to get it to the people who have cheered us on all this time as well as new friends and supporters. YOU are who we want to share our music and stories with. Thank you for making it possible! I can’t wait to share this film with you!

 I think I may just have to watch “Field of Dreams” before I go to bed tonight.


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Mr. and Mrs. Honky Tonk Hero

Recently I asked some of my friends on facebook what they would like for me to write about in my next blog. The response was overwhelmingly in favor of hearing more about my time with Waylon & Jessi. So, what better place to start than at the beginning. This is one of the chapters from “Playin’ on the Tracks.” Enjoy!


Mr. & Mrs. Honky Tonk Hero

 In the spring of 1975 Ken Mansfield opened another door for Barny and me that we stumbled through, only to have it quickly lock behind us. There would be no going back; forward was the only option. He had just finished co-producing an album with Waylon Jennings for his wife Jessi Colter on Capitol. She had a huge hit with “I’m Not Lisa” and it was breaking all kinds of records, “crossing over’ where no Country artist had gone before. Ken, knowing the way I sang and the way Barny played, felt that we’d be a good fit for her band. So when she came to town for her debut at the Santa Monica Civic, we got the gig.

I remember having more than one conversation with Ken’s wife wanting to give me an insider’s “heads up” about the margin for error that was always lurking. It was a pretty rough and rowdy world of life and music on the edge, and I was still a few weeks shy of my 21st birthday. I think she felt like a protective big sister. She wasn’t privy to some of the more dark parts of my story, and didn’t realize I wasn’t quite as green as I looked and sometimes acted, but I appreciated her intent.

A rehearsal was booked for us in one of the studios at the famous Capitol Records building on Highland Avenue. Waylon and Jessi were late, and the band, who was set up and ready to go, were standing around waiting for them to arrive so we could dive into the music. There was a lot to get done in a very short period of time, and I was beginning to wonder how this was all going to work when we were alerted to their arrival. I remember Waylon had been roarin’, and everybody was walking around on eggshells. I overheard a few of the guys saying that he wasn’t real happy about something to do with the record company. Shocker!

It’s kind of funny thinking back to first impressions. I was this little California hippie musician, wearing jeans and t-shirts with no makeup and long blond hair. Since “shy” was my default mode, especially in new situations, I was more than happy to be the invisible background singer. Barny was comfortable behind the keys, and the guitar player, Gordon Payne, was one of those guys I talked about earlier that used to come out and see us at the Palomino before he joined up with Waylon. He hadn’t been working with him all that long and was actually pretty quiet back then as well. Barny and I were more than a little guarded due to the unpredictable nature of the situation we were stepping into. Waylon’s well documented no bullshit reputation preceded him, and working as Jessi’s band was new territory for everybody.

He was the first one to enter the room, followed by an entourage of anxious looking people scurrying around to make sure the Boss was happy. He was a big man, and his swagger and energy made him seem even bigger. His hair was greasy, and he had a cigarette in his mouth. I could smell the Musk cologne he was wearing from across the room where I was standing. It took only about 30 seconds to conclude that it would be best for me to stay out of his way and not initiate any conversations. I was there to do a job, and I was going to do it. I was kind of half expecting him to look at me and fire me on the spot, just because he could.

Once he was through the door, Jessi and her people walked in, and I remember audibly taking in a big gasp of air. I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone that strikingly beautiful before, and I’m not exaggerating. It was like everyone in the room couldn’t take their eyes off of her. Where Waylon was big and commanding by his presence, Jessi was petite and incredibly glamorous and captivating in a very cool way. I’m sure you know what I mean if you’ve ever seen her in person, or looked at album covers. They both had a presence that was all their own, refusing to be diminished by a business that routinely ate up and spit out talent like a glutton at an ancient Roman feast. They were definitely a force to be reckoned with.

I hadn’t been working with women at all, and the way I looked fit well with the bands I was a part of. But in that moment, I became very conscious of what I was or was not wearing.

The introductions were brief, and I wasn’t sure either one of them could have picked me out of a line up later in the day if they had to. The pressure of success, and big success in particular, will wring you out, and it was evident in that moment that something was disturbing the force.

I had prepared myself for an intense rehearsal, knowing how very important this gig was for her, and frankly for me as well; you only debut once. We’d been working in situations where musicians and engineers would spend hours just tuning the guitar so I was resigned to a long and arduous day in the studio. I couldn’t have been more mistaken. After chatting it up with some of her friends in the room, Jessi eventually sauntered over to the piano and sat down. She played for a bit, kind of getting the feel of everything, and then the rest of the band started falling in where it felt right.

My mind was trying to make every left turn with them, holding on like a hobo catching a ride. I had memorized the background parts off the album and did my best to fit with Gordon’s vocals. At the same time I was using all of my past-learned skills to match her very challenging phrasing. It was one wild pressure cooker of a rehearsal, at least for me, anyway.

Every once in awhile, Waylon would explain things, and it was like he had his own language. The rest of the band had been with him long enough, and not only understood, but were fluent in their ability to converse. This was new to Barny and I, so we chose to listen close, absorb as much as we could, and then hope for the best.

As awkwardly as the rehearsal began, it ended. The two stars were swept up and rushed into their waiting cars for the next event of their long and demanding day. With the debut just around the corner, we went to the house and did our homework.

Interestingly for me, her big night at the Santa Monica Civic held an unexpected and truly spiritual moment. Barny and I didn’t know Jessi very well yet, but we knew there were some personal issues she was dealing with. I imagined how crushing the pressure of both her and Waylon’s careers must have been at times. She was trying to push these distractions aside and go out and give her much awaited live concert debut in hypercritical L.A. no less. I had seen her backstage earlier, and it was obvious she had an inner struggle going on.

I remember standing behind my mic and looking off stage, watching her, asking God to please help her. The crowd was ready and as the introduction finished I watched as she gracefully and confidently walked out and knelt beside her piano. It was like everyone was afraid to take a breath, not wanting to disturb this almost holy moment. She then sat down and played the single note intro to “I’m Not Lisa,” a song that put her at the top of the charts.

From the first step she took onto the stage she held that audience in the palm of her hand. Her smile and the ease in which she presented herself and her songs melted the heart of every would-be critic in the room. All the nerves and “what-ifs” of the days leading up to this crossroad in time were gone and the band as well as Jessi gave themselves permission to enjoy the music. I get chills just thinking about it. This would be one of many moments that I would witness Jessi sing her heart out for those who had ears to hear and spirits to embrace her journey.

Gordon once referred to me as a singer that sticks to an artist’s phrasing like flypaper. It was a compliment. There have been moments when rather than watching her, I would close my eyes and lose myself in the song, matching her phrasing better than I ever had with my eyes open. It’s all about the listening… I am blessed to call her “friend.”

From then on, whenever she was in town, whether it was recording or filming the “Midnight Specials” for TV, we got the call. It was a very exciting time.

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February 13, 2014 · 5:12 pm

I’ll Never Forget When…

I watched a CNN special last night entitled “The Assassination of President Kennedy.” The statement was made that if you were alive on November 22, 1963, that moment will never be forgotten. I couldn’t agree more. I was 8 years old and my family lived in the very Catholic coastal town of Santa Maria, California. The reality of living near Vanderbilt Air Force Base and the threat of the Cuban missile crisis fresh in the minds of the locals, contributed to feeding people’s fear of an impending doomsday scenario. The issue of national safety spilled over into the personal lives of families for generations to come and has many of us still asking, “What really happened?”

The following is an excerpt from my book, “Playin’ on the Tracks.” It’s not politically correct, nor is it meant to be. It’s from the perspective of an 8-year-old little girl who is trying to understand and process something impossible to process.

“President Kennedy’s Dead and Johnson’s Smiling”

Funny what sticks in a little kid’s head. No matter what your age if you were alive on November 22, 1963 you remember…there’s a snapshot that your mind refers back to.  We received the tragic news that Friday while sitting in our classrooms smelling the fish the cafeteria ladies were cooking up so all the little Catholic children could remain Catholic. I understood that. Our church had rules too. It didn’t affect me much since I always brought my lunch, which consisted of homemade bread and bologna. I rarely partook of cafeteria food, even after my mother started working there scrubbing her fingers to the bone, cleaning out those giant pots. She’d scrub so hard it made her knuckles bleed, until the head cafeteria lady told her the pots didn’t need to be that shiny.

There’s something especially cruel when tragedy happens in the middle of normal. The shock is too great and random to respond to. That day it was as though time had stopped, really stopped. Teachers turned pale, their bodies frozen, unable to move. They stared off as though they were trying to mentally grasp something that was inconceivable and impossible to process. We were dismissed to walk home quietly and reverently.

Santa Maria’s beloved President had been murdered, and now it was just a matter of time before the bombs would start dropping and here we were, too poor for a bomb shelter. I felt real bad for Caroline and John-John. I watched the TV clip of Jackie, their mama, climbing over the back seat and then later on the plane, still in her blood soaked suit. I thought she looked pretty even then. I wanted to put my skinny little arms around them and squeeze as hard and tight as I could. Whether your family was a Democrat or not, back then there was a very genuine sense of connection for people all over the United States with this beautiful young family. I kept thinking, first my friend Johnny’s mama and now their daddy.

My mother was definitely not a fan of President Kennedy, but she thought Vice President Johnson came straight from H-E-double hockey sticks! Somewhere in her conspiratorial mind she was convinced she saw a smirk on his face as he was being sworn in, and from that moment on believed that Johnson had quite possibly put out the hit on Kennedy so he could become President.

“The assassination did happen in his home state of Texas, you know” giving that little all-knowing shake of her head that sometimes looked like she was disagreeing with what she was agreeing with. I think there may have been a little transference going on when you consider that’s where most of Daddy’s people were from. Oddly enough, she wasn’t the only one buying into that theory. I’d overhear her talking about young voluptuous women running around half naked in the White House and Johnson smoking, cussing, and swimming with them in the pool, all the while Lady Bird was up in her office making plans to beautify America.

I couldn’t help but think of those big missiles that Vandenberg Air Force Base would show off at every downtown parade. Main Street would be lined with families eating popcorn and cheering as the floats and bands with the baton twirlers in short skirts lead the way. After the Shriners and the Rotary Club finished mowing down as many innocent bystanders as possible in their little Go-carts, the military would bring out the big guns and the missiles. I’d sit there on the curb hoping they had them strapped down real good and be praying it wouldn’t hit a bump. KA-BOOM! That’d be it for the residents of Santa Maria and the rest of the West Coast.

After awhile Mama let go of some of her theories and trusted the Lord to take care of us. Shoot, for all we knew Jesus could be coming back that day and “in a moment in the twinkling of an eye,” Kennedy, Johnson and the missiles would no longer be our concern. We would all be safe and sound taking leisurely strolls down the streets of gold, just one of the many perks of being the chosen and right denomination, while the great Tribulation warred on down here on earth. I worried about Daddy though. There was no way he was going to be a part of the rapture. Didn’t look like heaven was in his future at the moment, and that made me real sad. What was he going to do without all of us?


 Walk Home Drill

 Today we had a walk home drill at school. When the recess bell rang, Miss Searle told us to get under our desks, clasp our hands behind our heads and shield our ears with our arms. We’re practicing for when the bomb gets dropped on Vandenberg Air Force Base.

I was all scrunched up with my head in my lap. At first I kept my eyes shut real tight, then I peeked them open a little bit. I never noticed the squiggly lines on the floor before. I started thinkin’ about how Miss Searle doesn’t like me much. She told Mama I’m not a very good reader, and Mama said she was going to go have a talk with the principal because the one thing I CAN do is read.

I had to give an oral report last week, and I was so scared to be up in front of everybody. When I was done and went back to my desk, she walked up to the front of the room and said, “Class this is an example of how NOT to give an oral report!” Then she told everybody all the bad parts and how I was too quiet and stuff. I was so embarrassed I just kept looking at the paper on my desk. Inside my head I asked Jesus if I had to like her ‘cuz I don’t! She’s mean.

When the all-clear bell sounded, we had to get in line in an orderly fashion. That’s what Miss Searle says, “An orderly fashion,” and walk home. No pushing, no shoving and NO talking! Just walking! I had to wear this yellow yarn necklace with a card on it. It has my name, address, and phone number so I won’t get lost when I walk home after the bomb goes off.  It kinda scared me so I sang happy songs in my head all the way home.

Excerpt from “Playin on the Tracks” by Carter Robertson

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Interview, Part-2

Heading to New York on Waylon’s Lear Jet

The following is a continuation of the previous Interview Part-1, where I answer questions from some of my Facebook friends as well as others, about my “Outlaw” years with Waylon, Jessi and the boys. Enjoy!

Interview Part-2

INTERVIEWER: Brent wants to know, “What’s your favorite on the road memory touring with Waylon?”
ME: Oooh, that’s hard. My favorite road memory…they each have their own place in my heart. Man! This is hard!
Just off the top of my head recording at Caribou Ranch in Colorado and going horseback riding in between sessions was pretty fun. Playing the Roxie in L.A. with Ringo and his entourage watching from the private club upstairs rates up there as well. He invited Waylon and the whole band to come hang out after our show.
There was the visit to the White House when Jimmy Carter was President. We had played this very cool old theater the night before and Rosalynn invited us for a private tour the next day. We didn’t know it, but the president was in secret meetings planning the infamous rescue attempt of the Iranian hostages, while our motley crew strolled the grounds under the watchful eye of the Secret Service. Good times.
I’ll never forget being the one who got to walk out on stage in front of a full house and announce the U.S. hockey team’s win over Russia on February 22, 1980. I can still hear Al Michaels’ famous, “Do You Believe in Miracles? YES!” and chants of “USA! USA! USA!”
Playing off Broadway in New York was a dream come true and concerts with the Grateful Dead were exciting but kept me on my toes.
Another favorite was playing The Million dollar Cowboy Bar in Jackson Hole, Wyoming then all of us going out on Jenny Lake with C.A. Poindexter. Priceless!
On September 15, 1978 Waylon took us all to The New Orleans Super Dome where Mohammed Ali fought a rematch with Leon Spinks winning the Title for the 3rd time and breaking the record. (I ended up getting food poisoning and Waylon stopped the entire road convoy at a truck stop until I felt well enough to travel. He could be one very protective friend.)
Playing for the Dallas Cowboy’s Super Bowl party when they beat Denver was no slouch and the impromptu visits to New York in the Lear jet made me feel like a rock star.
I could go on but some of the best memories have to do with Waylon’s sense of humor and Jessi’s laughter on stage and that just scratches the surface.
INTERVIEWER: Do you have any least favorite places you played?
ME: Oh now, that’s kind of a tricky question. Of course there are places you hope you never have to play again, but each venue has it’s own set of quirks. I can’t say this was my least favorite, but it wasn’t exactly at the top of the list either.
Being the only girl in the band often put me in some dicey situations, which I’m sure you have gathered by now. The more seasoned I became, the more adept I was at going with the flow… most of the time.
While touring Southern California in the late seventies we were asked to do a concert at a women’s maximum-security prison. Everybody was a bit on edge to say the least. There’s something about walking through the doors of a prison that immediately causes you to not take your freedom for granted.
All of our equipment was searched as well as ourselves before we were taken under guard to the area where we would do our concert. We were joking around and trying to act as though this were no big deal. But all we had to do was look at a guard or recall the electrified fortress we had just passed through to know differently. It WAS a big deal.
We did a quick sound check, and then the female inmates were brought in and the room was filled to capacity. Standing at the back of the stage, I couldn’t help but wonder what their life stories were. What had brought them to this place?
The Warden welcomed us and then without wasting any more time brought us on. As the band took our places an impromptu decision was made for the Waylors to open with a song. For some reason, the boys insisted I do a solo and being caught in the moment I completely drew a blank. Just as it was starting to feel even more awkward, a song title came to mind. I told Barny and Richie to crank up an old Dylan tune I used to sing sometimes. The song was “I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight.”
I stepped up to the mic and said, “This goes out to anybody you want it to go out to” and with that said Richie nearly fell off of his drum stool laughing. Barny and the rest of the boys hooped and hollered joined by our much appreciative female crowd. Guess you could say I brought the house down, just another little nugget from my illustrious career résumé.
INTERVIEWER: The name Carter is unusual for a female. Do you think it’s been a plus or a minus?
ME: Overall probably a plus. It has lead to some interesting moments though. One of the funniest has to do with my husband Barny’s name more than mine. I remember Barny and I going out one night with my sister Diana, and her boyfriend who is now my brother-in-law. Stuart is a tough talking Jewish guy from New York who works in the construction industry. He was pretty connected in more ways than one and prided himself in knowing all the best places to eat. It was shortly after finding out I was pregnant with my first child after trying for 2 years, and we were celebrating at this little restaurant in Beverly Hills called The Cheesecake Factory. The hostess/part-time bakery chef was an old friend of Stuarts and a new acquaintance of ours. She was aware of how much Barny and I wanted a child and was always so sweet and sympathetic when it didn’t happen as quickly as we wanted.
What some people don’t know is that Barny’s given name is Clifford or Cliff. This is important to note. Upon arrival, Linda greeted us and as she was walking us to our table I said, “Cliff and I are going to have a baby!”
Linda looked over at Barny and kind of whispered, “How does Barny feel about that?”
“Oh, he’s thrilled!” I said, wondering why she was acting so strangely.
We had a delicious dinner but Linda kept her distance, and I was beginning to take it personally. As we walked out, she came up to me and said, “I hope you and “Cliff” will be very happy,” and then she kind of gave Barny a look and a sympathetic pat on the back.
On our way home, Barny and I wondered what her problem was. The phone was ringing when we walked through the door, and Stuart was on the other end laughing so hard he could barely catch his breath. He said he had just hung up with Linda, and she was livid. She wanted to know who this Cliff guy was and why Barny was just fine with Carter being pregnant by him! Show people!

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Interview Part-1

Welcome to “Living This Side Of Eden, An Artist’s Story” The following are answers to some questions I have recently been asked by some of my facebook friends as well as others, about my “Outlaw” years with Waylon, Jessi and the boys. It’s written in interview form. Enjoy!
The Interview Part-1

INTERVIEWER: How about if we start with some of the basics.
ME: Okay, shoot.
INTERVIEWER: How long were you out there and what albums did you sing on?
Me: I started with Jessi in 1975 and then full time with both of them in 1976. I left in June 1981 when I was six months pregnant with my first daughter, Becky. Barny and I both left for 10 years and then got back together with everyone around 1991. So far I’ve sung on about 17 albums that I can remember between the two of them. Do you want me to be specific?
INTERVIEWER: Yes. I think people would be interested.
ME: Okay…well the following are the
Jessi albums I sang on:
Diamond in the Rough
That’s the Way A Cowboy Rocks and Rolls
Out of the Ashes
Waylon albums I sang on:
Are You Ready For the Country?
Ol’ Waylon
Waylon and Willie
I’ve Always Been Crazy
What Goes Around Comes Around
Waylon’s Greatest Hits album
Music Man
Cowboys, Sisters, Rascals and Dirt
Closing in on the Fire
The Live Album—Never Say Die
RCA Waylon Tribute album
The Music Inside—A Collaboration Dedicated to Waylon Jennings
“Goin’ Down Rockin’: The Last Recordings”

INTERVIEWER: That’s quite a list!
ME: It is, isn’t it?
INTERVIEWER: How does it make you feel when you rattle off those multi-platinum album titles?
ME: I was raised that a person was considered conceited if they talked much about their successes, which frankly has not served me well in this day and age of “networking” and self-promoting. So, when you ask me that question, I can’t help but cringe a little.
However, throwing all of that aside, I’m incredibly proud and honored that my name is on those albums that represent a revolution in Country Music, not to mention the deep friendships that are still alive and well today. A girl with my back-story, are you kidding?

INTERVIEWER: That’s one of the things that people are saying makes your book “Playin on the Tracks” so compelling. It’s a win! We all need to hear these kinds of stories.
ME: Well, thank you. That means a lot to me. One of the most encouraging things in my life has been listening to or reading the stories of people who have persevered and have grown from their struggles. I believe that’s one of the ways God has chosen to reach out to us.
INTERVIEWER: Here’s a question from Christopher and he asks:
“Did Waylon use the ‘Whoop Whoop’ as a way to cue the band when he wanted to end a song or to lead into the next section of the tune, or was it just something he did all the time for fun? It seems, from listening to the live albums, that he may have used it as a cue.”
ME: I love this question because it assumes we were well rehearsed. The truth is, if anyone called a rehearsal back then it was pretty much a guarantee they would be the only one who showed up. So, the answer is, “No,” it wasn’t a musical cue. You would be safe to assume that he was calling the bands attention to something or someone worth looking at. I’m just sayin’, an unusual amount of the female audience had difficulty keeping certain articles of their clothing on and often those special personal items ended up on stage. Most of the time it wasn’t very pretty. Avert your gaze!!
INTERVIEWER: You’ve written about some of those early moments of singing with Waylon and Jessi as being challenging. I’m wondering, did it ever get easier?
ME: Singing with Waylon and Jessi became more familiar, and within the context of safety that repeated success brings, as well as a growing friendship, it did develop into an easier and more natural collaboration.
Here’s the thing, as familiar as it may have become it was never exactly predictable and I loved that! The following is a quote from the book: “…my mind was trying to make every left turn with them, holding on like a hobo catching a ride.”
It was as though the stage had it’s own zip code, and only a very few were considered true residents. If you were up there it meant that you had not just been invited, but had earned the invitation and that felt great. That’s why so many years later when we all joined back up to once again go out and tour, it was like coming home on so many levels. Every night on that stage was a party. We were warriors who had survived not just the culture but each other, and that kind of love grows deep.

INTERVIEWER: Is it true that the Hell’s Angels were out there with you, and if so how did that contribute to the dynamic?
ME: We had people join us for a concert here and there. Two people who were with us pretty much all the time were Deakon and Boomer.
INTERVIEWER: Did they travel on your bus as well?
ME: By the time they were with us on a regular basis, success had hit and we had multiple buses and semis. Deakon traveled on Waylon and Jessi’s bus while Boomer traveled with the band.
INTERVIEWER: In what capacity did they function?
ME: Well, our security was certainly enhanced by their presence, and we weren’t exactly a Disney act. To be honest, I wasn’t real comfortable at first. I’d already seen enough scary stuff in my life, and now all I wanted to do was have fun making music. Plus it didn’t help that one of my uncles was a retired California Highway Patrolman who was very familiar with the Club’s infamous gatherings at Bass Lake. So, of course I was anxious.
However, I was in a unique position to get to know these two people as friends. I didn’t ask questions or stick my nose into things that were none of my business. I had a healthy respect for boundaries and chose to engage the person rather than the reputation.

Coming soon, Part-2!! Ya’ll come back now, ya hear?!

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I’m Dizzy

I’m Dizzy

The room is well lit. The circle of metal folding chairs strategically placed on the old, cold, linoleum floor, hold the bodies and stories of people just like me.

“Hello” I say. “I’m Carter Robertson and I am…” pregnant pause, “a self-employed musician” gulp, “writer, (hope I’m worthy to say that and that the worthy police took a pass on tonight’s meeting) wife, mother, sister, daughter, professional background singer, friend, all around loony.” To which the other souls reply, “Hello, Carter.”

Mama used to say, “Quit runnin’ around like a chicken with your head cut off!” Not bad advice. However, it seems that lately, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. I know better, I just find myself more often than not falling back into default mode.

Life right now is very LOUD! Not all bad stuff either. In fact, most of it’s good, just challenging. Sometimes I wonder when using the word “challenging” if it’s my way of spinning, but perhaps I should save that conversation for another time. I recently finished writing my memoir “Playin’ on the Tracks.” The following is a quote from the book.

“Wrestling with hard providences that don’t make sense isn’t really all that surprising; we were made for the Garden of Eden, after all. The mystery at times seems so profound, and yet somewhere I sense that when I finally see face to face the God I have been talking to all these years, it will actually be astonishingly simple. There’s so much we don’t know…
Seems the longer I live the more puzzling things are, and there are fewer and fewer parts of the story that I am able to tie up in a nice neat bow. Kind of like the ribbon I’m using is too slick and shiny and keeps coming undone.”

In light of the above I decided to do a little reminiscing and in the next few blogs I will be sharing parts of an interview about my stories of being the only female in Waylon Jennings band, “The Waylors” all through the Country Music Outlaw era and then later as a member in “The Waymore Blues Band.” Laughter’s not only the best medicine, but the great perspective corrector as well, and believe me, there are plenty of things to laugh about, especially now, looking back. I hope you’ll tune in.
Welcome to “Living This Side of Eden, An Artist’s Story”

“Playin’ on the Tracks” now available at, and at Amazon at

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Carter Live Show EPK 2012

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