EDITOR’S NOTE: No Depression’s “Postcard From” series features dispatches from artists' daily lives on the road, in the studio, or anywhere in between. Our next installment comes from Arkansas singer-songwriter Dylan Earl, whose new album Level-Headed Even Smile is out September 19 via GarHole Records.
This postcard from the road is of the last sunset I ever saw on tour with my old pup Rupert. We were on our way home to Arkansas from the only tour I’ve ever had to cancel (after making it to the first three shows). We cut across the panhandle of Oklahoma coming in from New Mexico. Rupert had a series of strokes and I knew his time was coming to an end; it was time to get him home to the rest of his family. We took a longer route that skirted around Texas. No offense to my Texan friends, but Rupert would have been right pissed if he had died there.
Rupert was communally raised amongst a cohort of pals in Arkansas. He came into our lives at the end of 2009 while we were all students at Hendrix and Central Arkansas, first getting a taste for this life in the DIY houses we lived in and threw shows. Long story short, the old pup touched many hearts and it was imperative that I get him home immediately to say his last goodbyes to all the souls (both critter and human, alike) that had been a part of his journey. Rupert loved life on the road, perhaps as a result of his unorthodox raising.
