The Playboy Interview:Â Willie Nelson
November 2002
by David Sheff
Willie Nelson — looking exactly as we have come to expect him, with waist-long hair tied in braids, red bandanna, jeans and sneakers — is in Honeysuckle Rose III, his tour bus, before a sold-out concert at Harrah’s Casino near Lake Tahoe, Nevada. Nelson spends more time on the bus than he does at his 700-acre ranch near Austin, where he has a golf course and a recording studio. He’s no homebody. After all, he’s the guy who wrote, ‘I just can’t wait to get on the road again.”
The bus, outfitted with satellite TV and DVD, a 30-speaker stereo and a satellite-modem computer, is parked in the shadow of Harrah’s. It’s smokey inside, the result of a cigar-size joint smoldering in an ashtray, another expected feature of Nelson’s traveling living room. (Nelson is a famous dope smoker and proponent of legalized marijuana, who even rolled a big joint on the White House roof when he was a guest of President Jimmy Carter.) As comedian Robin Williams cracked during his recent tour, “When he looks at Willie, even Buddah’s going, ‘That guy’s mellow.'”
Carter isn’t the only president to have hosted Nelson. Though Willie proudly inhales, his fans include President Clinton and both George Bushes. In fact, it’s hard to find anyone who doesn’t like Nelson. His enormously broad audience is visible when he leaves the bus to duck into a back entrance to Harrah’s. When he walks onstage, there’s deafening boot stomping and hooting. Nelson’s music crosses most genres and has near mystical appeal to all sorts of people, typified by tonight’s crowd: 20-year-olds in ripped clothes with pierced body parts, boozed-up cowboys, white-haired retirees, aging hippies, wild-haired Hell’s Angels and buzz-cut-and-goateed entertainment executives up from Hollywood. “Anyone who doesn’t like Willie Nelson is dead or may as well be,” according to Kris Kristofferson, a friend and frequent collaborator.
Born in 1933, Nelson grew up poor in Abbott, Texas, where he was raised in a family of musicians, including his grandparents and his piano-playing sister Bobbie (still a band member). His window on the world was the crystal radio on which he first heard Jimmie Rodgers, Benny Goodman and gospel music. “It was a hard life,” he says, “But we had music.” After picking up the guitar at six, he accompanied Bobbie at church recitals and began writing poems and songs by the time he was seven years old. As a teenager, he performed in Texas dancehalls and bars, covering songs by his heroes Hank Williams, ernest Tubb, Bob Wills and Lefty Frizell. Before he recorded his own songs, he began selling his compositions — for $10.00 and $25.00 – to music publishers and musicians. His first hit was Crazy, recorded by Patsy Cline. Next came hit songs for Ray Price (Night Life) and Faron Young (Hello Walls). Other singers had hits with his songs, including The Party’s Over, Funny How Time Slips Away, Good Hearted Woman and Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground.
In the early Sixties, when he moved to Nashville, Nelson performed with such country stars as Mel Tillis and Roger Miller; and while playing bars and clubs most nights of the year, Nelson broke into the country top ten with Willingly and Touch Me. In 1975 he released Red Headed Stranger, a masterful concept album that established him as a first-rate country artist. The remainder of the century was Nelson’s with such hits as Georgia on My Mind, Whiskey River, Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow UP to Be Cowboys, I Gotta Get Drunk and, of course, On the Road Again.
In 1978, Nelson released a record with 10 of his favorite songs, standards line Moonlight in Vermont, Someone to Watch Over Me and On the Sunny Side of the Street. The record, Stardust, remained on the album charts for more than a decade, Nelson had become a symbol of and hero to – as he proudly put it — “cowboys, lowlifes rednecks, hippies, bikers — hell, all sorts of misfits like me.”
Nelson’s life has been as bittersweet as a country song. He has been married four times. In 1990, the government sued him for tax evasion (the final bill: $16.7 million). Nelson blamed his tax woes on some bad investment advice, but the IRS seized much of his property and sold it. To help pay the bill, Nelson released a mail-order album titled Who’ll Buy My Memories?: the IRS Tapes. He suffered personal tragedy in 1991, when one of his seven children, Billy committed suicide. But Nelson’s family — blood and extended (including may of his band members) — remains close-knot. Willie’s sister Bobbie plays in his band, and two of his daughters and a granddaughter run his website (www.willienelson.com), where his fans congregate and DCs and other merchandise are sold. Nelson was once well known for his heavy drinking as well as his marijuana use. “I’ve toned down,” he says, “but toning down ain’t the same thing as quitting.” His friends say he is healthier than ever running, playing golf and practicing martial arts and yoga.
In addition to his music, Nelson has established himself as a champion for the family farmer with his annual Farm Aid concerts. With his friends Neil Young and John Mellencamp and other performers, nelson has raised millions of dollars for the cause. Meanwhile, nelson has also found time to write for and act in films, including The Electric Horseman (with Robert Redford and Jane Fonda), Songwriter (with Kris Kristofferson) and Wag the Dog (with Robert De Niro and Dustin Hoffman). This year he turned author, too, releasing the Facts of Life and Other Dirty jokes, which became a best-seller.
When we decided to sit Nelson down for an interview, we sent contributing editor David Sheff, whos last interview in these pages was with billionaire Larry Ellison. Here’s Sheff’s report: “Nelson is unique in the canon of American celebrities because he has crossed so many boundaries. When I said as much to him, he wrinkled up his I’ve-seen-it-all eyes and smiled, ‘Ive fooled lots of folk, haven’t I?’ Then he let out a laugh — one of many that punctuated the interviews.
“Much of the interview was conducted on the Honeysuckle Rose at a small dining table set with a bottle of Old Whiskey River, a family-size box of Zig-zag rolling papers and filled ashtrays. The mood was generally light, but at moments Nelson became thoughtful and somber. They didn’t last long, however, with a twinkle in his eyes, there wold follow some wisecrack and another fit of laughter.
“Indeed, when we first sat down for the interview, Nelson rubbed his hands together, ‘Most times I can’t tell interviewers the good jokes — only the G-rated ones,’ he told me. He grinned, ‘But this is PLAYBOY. It’s going to be fun.’ It was an opening if I ever heard one.
PLAYBOY: Well? Do you have a joke you would like to tell us?
NELSON: OK. A lady went to a drugstore and asked if they had Viagra. The guy behind the counter, the pharmacist said, “Yeah,” and she asks, ‘Have you tried it?” He said he had and so she asked, “Can you get it over the counter?” He thought about it awhile and then said, “I think I could if I took two.” [laughter]
NELSON:Â There’s one more thing about Viagra.
PLAYBOY:Â What’s that?
NELSON: They say it can make a lawyer taller. [laughter]
PLAYBOY:Â Where does all this joking come from?
NELSON: Jokes help pass the time on the road and they help get though life. You’ve got to laugh. I always loved a good joke.”
PLAYBOY:Â If you’re always laughing and joking, why are so many of the songs you’ve written sad?
NELSON: Those are the three-in-the morning songs. That’s when you may feel so much like a joke. Also, as a songwriter I’m challenged by sad songs. They’re harder to write.
PLAYBOY:Â What makes them harder?
NELSON: I don’t know, but I can knock off a happy ditty pretty easily. Something real — something meaningful and deeper — is harder. You may not be feeling all that happy when a song comes in the middle of the night. You may not be feeling so good because you had too much to drink or stayed out too late. So the feeling might be there, but crafting it into a song is the challenger.Â
And, of course, sometimes you’re fooling around on the guitar and suddenly you just played a pierce of a new song and it wakes you p. You think, What was that? I just wrote a song. Of course, when you can’t remember it [laugh]. All those lost songs. So the sad song may come from sad experiences, but not necessarily. You draw on your past — the stories that you’ve heard, your frieds’ lives. If I write a song about breaking up with my girlfriend, it doesn’t mean I’m breaking up with my girlfriend. It means I thought it would make a good song.
PLAYBOY:Â But to write or sing the blues don’t you have to have lived them?
NELSON: If they’re real, yeah. But at the same time I wrote songs about love affairs when I was five and six years old and I hadn’t had any. I just listened to other songs and realized I could write ones, too. I had no idea what i was talking about even though I thought I did. But the truth is that you couldn’t sing songs and make them believable if you hadn’t experienced the blues. If they come across as real maybe it’s because they are real. It doesn’t mean I’m depressed when I’m writing, though I have been there. It’s not like I started writing songs as a way to express how sad I was. I wrote poems before I could pay the guitar, and after I learned a few chords and put melodies to the poems. I knew I could make a rhyme and write songs, so I never really made the decision to start doing it. I just did it. I thought everybody could do it. I make records when I have enough songs to go into the studio. then I go out and play — play the songs every night.
PLAYBOY: You’re smoking a joint as we talk. Do you believe pot is harmless?
NELSON: Too much of anything is no good. Too much alcohol, too much sugar. I think pot is a lot less harmful than alcohol for most people. What happens to people on pot? They get mellow. People who are drinking can get dangerous, but not people on pot. People I know have quit every drug and even drinking, but they may still smoke a little pot to take the edge off. That doesn’t bother me. I don’t drink as much as I used to. I dont’ get drunk anymore. If you take a couple of sips, there aint’ nothing wrong with that.
PLAYBOY:Â Does marijuana affect your memory?
NELSON: What was the question? [laughs] I don’t know if it does. I remember an awful lot about an awful long life, and I don’t know if I would want to remember any more. [laughs]
PLAYBOY:Â Do you think that there’s any chance the pot laws will be changed?
NELSON: They may be, someday. There is some momentum at least in terms of medical marijuana. I love that they don’t want people who are dying to smoke pot because — why? It will kill them? People smoke marijuana and their brains don’t fall out. It’s not a big deal and most people know that. I have cut down [He smokes and laughs.] I am healthier now than I have ever been. I run almost every day, and if the weather’s good, I play golf.
PLAYBOY:Â Do you ever worry that you romanticize pot and drinking?
NELSON: I hope I don’t. There’s a whole thing about romanticizing the lifestyle and I agree that it can be dangerous. Many of my heroes when I was a kid were alcoholics, which I think is a bad thing. What are you learning? Somewhere along the way you think if I’m going to be like Hank Williams I got to get drunk like Hank Williams. I sure tried it and I’m glad I’m not doing it anymore. George Jones drank. Bob Wills. A lot of them. I’m not blaming Hand or anyone. I would have drunk anyway. Most young people do at some point. But I admired the people who pulled themselves out. They are the real heroes. I admire the ones who survived and got sober. It ain’t romantic to be a drunk. Which leads to a joke Roger Miller told me about the guy kicking tires at a used car lot. The salesman came up and asked, “You thinking about buying a car?” The guy said, “No, I’m gonna buy a car. I was thinking about pussy.” That’s in my book.
PLAYBOY:Â Why did you write the book?
NELSON: Just something I always wanted to do and there was a lot of interest. thought it would be the best do do like a daily diary or journal. Whenever I got up in the morning I tried to remember where I was or guess where i was last night and write about all that and throw ina joke every now and then. Whatever I thought about at the moment.
PLAYBOY:Â Do you keep journals?
NELSON:Â Never keep them, but if I did that’s what they would sound like.
PLAYBOY:Â Was it similar to writing songs?
NELSON: Completely different, a lot easier. Songs have to have a form to rhyme, to follow a theme, but when I write this other stuff I can go all different directions. When you run out of something smart to say it’s nice to be able to tell a joke, which is why I told all these stupid jokes in the book.
PLAYBOY:Â Is it a struggle each time you write a song?
NELSON: It gets easier over time. You get better at it like anything else. You get pretty good at it and instinctively know what you have to do. One of the hardest things is keeping it within limits. It can’t be 20 minutes long — has to be two or three minutes. That’s the challenge.Â
PLAYBOY:Â When you play your songs, do they bring you back to the time you wrote them?
NELSON: Depends on whether I want to go there or not. Sometimes it’s not that pleasant to make all those trips; sometimes you don’t want to feel it. But sometimes you do — the songs take you there.
PLAYBOY: Do you know how people will like any given song? Can you predict which songs will become hits? Do you have a sense if a song has the potential in become a classic — an On the Road Again or Crazy?
NELSON: I wish I did, but you never know. A lot of the songs I have written – 99 percent or more — have never been heard by anyone. I think they are good songs, as good as any. I have written more than 1,000 songs, most of them never recorded. The timing wasn’t right or whatever. The songs that became the hits don’t tell the whole story. Most songs disappear without a trace. You never know how people will take to them, what will strike a chord. If you did, you’d always do it. You’d record only hits. No one can do that.
PLAYBOY:Â Do you like to listen to your voice?
NELSON: Sometimes. I hear me a lot, so I can get sick of it. I listen in a different way than most folks probably do. I am critical, listening for when I’m on key and in tune and when I’m sounding like a hyena or something. Other than that, I just do it and don’t ask too many questions. It works best that way. I’m just glad people like it when they do.   I am blessed they do. I don’t have an act. I’m like this all the time. I’m just me. I’m lucky if I can remember the words If I can, that’s really all I have to do on any given day.
PLAYBOY:Â In your book you recount the night when you forgot the words to Crazy.
NELSON: [laughs] Yeah, I did. Never had before. the audience always likes it when I mess up. They think I was ripped. I wasn’t. Just forgot.
[I’ll type up rest of interview later….]