by Terence Dackombe It’s not easy to find out about Tchula Junction. Even if you discover the location, you may want to think twice, and then twice again, before you go there. Sure there are the swamps and the mists covering Horseshoe Lake, and you’re right in the heart of two million acres of wild habitat where the deer hunters are twitchy on their trigger fingers, but there’s another big reason to stay away.
So, anyway… you’re a musician and you write songs. Imagine being so talented, so in tune with contemporary times, that just about everything you write turns into award winning, chart topping gold. Like a musical Midas, you run your hands across the keyboard, strum a few chords on a guitar, and another million seller is produced.
It’s so easy.
You’re feted the world over, singers are clamouring at your feet to cover your songs. The world belongs to you.
Before he was twenty-three Jimmy Webb had written Galveston, By The Time I Get To Phoenix, a song about a park off Wilshire Boulevard where he met his girlfriend (MacArthur Park) and top of the pile, Wichita Lineman which is, essentially, twelve lines of song writing perfection.