This is golden right here, y’all: Robert Pete Williams. He went to jail. Back in the day I dated a Cajun. I mean a real Cajun from Pont Breaux. We would go up to Lafayette to go canoeing, and on to Opelousas. There we went dancing at Slim’s Y-Ki-Ki, and stood in the back of the church to hear Gospel Mass. On the way we would stop in the country and give fifty dollars to Robert Pete Williams’ mother, because she was widowed and he was dead, and he never did make any money on his music.
Axé.