In the early part of the summer of 1995 a bunch of
people I knew were going camping at Goose Creek. Since it wasn't
too far out of town I decided to ride my bike out there, though I did not
plan on staying overnight. Well, as typically happens, my plans changed,
and I did indeed camp out. Nat had her car with her so she drove
me home so I could grab a couple of blankets. That's pretty much
all I brought out. After the drinking and stuff was over and everyone
crashed for the night, I lay there
looking at the stars thinking to myself that this truly is the way to enjoy
nature. I could not comprehend why anyone would drive a motorhome
to a campsite, plug it in for power and then claim to be camping.
I don't know...maybe there is something that I don't see. Well, this
inspired me to write Roughing It. I wrote the lyrics the next day,
and within about a week I had a demo recorded that I was comfortable with
that I brought to the rest of the band. This song became a regular
part of the set list with the Assman/Gabe/John/Lionel line-up of the band,
and has remained so since then.
There he goes Billy Joe Money
He's going camping with his honey
It's not his wife to which I refer
It's his beast of a motorhome he loves more
than her
All these people in their big machines
Drive to there campsites and plug them in
They got a TV and a VCR
And a waterbed, baby, and a hot hot shower
This is what you call camping
I look on in disgust
Your great mobile complex
Won't satisfy my Mohican Lust
I believe in roughing it
Sleeping under the stars
Away from the sounds of the city
The bright lights and cars
I like to sleep under a starry night
And watch the meteorites take their flight
The crackling of an open fire
The chirping of the crickets in a wilderness
choir