Willie Nelson, man of the road, pays a call at the White House
The White House has never seen any thing to beat it. Where the powerful and the privileged usually dine, a buffet is laid on for members of the National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing. Where Casals once played, the entertain ment is a sort of tribal rite in which the guests whoop it up to a Texas honky-tonk beat. The placid evening air is pierced by a singer's plangent cry:
Whiskey River, don 't run dry,
You're all I've got—take care of...
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