This song is the first real country song I wrote. I was staying with my mom in San Mateo, Florida and wrote this puppy on her front porch, staring at the hay field cross the way. That's the same hay field from the circa '92 pictures, you know, tight jeans, no shirt, long-ass hair. Ruminating about my drinking days, the lyrics went through a few changes, but this one is not the final version of the chorus. That's on "The NashVegas Demos." I also wrote the song with the whistle solo, but I can't whistle for shit. Paul Conditt was gonna provide a big Texas-style whistle, but what with the record being lost and all, Shawn Anfinson wound up putting his lips together and blowing the sweet licks you hear on this recording. Like the song says, I'm not a bad drunk anymore. I'm a good drunk. John Baskerville (bass), Philip Sterk (drums), Jeff Petersen (lap steel), Shawn Anfinson (whistle), and me (guitars, vocals).