what others say
November 17, 2011 at 8:28 pm
Monsieur K, thanks for sending the link along
John said we both expressed interest in posting his fine poem and felt it was good to get it out there as much as possible, hence the link back to you with a tip of the hat in the post …
November 17, 2011 at 8:30 pm
That’s the Kell we all know and love.
It was my experience that he was a very difficult
person and I was never entirely comfortable around
him. Oil and water. I hung around him from 1991
till 93 or 94 when he tried to blow my head off with
that 8-shot .22 revolver he had (long story)(we were
both drunk late at night in Raton NM). ANd then
I saw him off & on for a few years after that but
mostly kept my distance. He was a supremely
magnificent guest on my radio show several times
but on his last visit to KUNM he was propositioning
secretaries and that was the end of that. Playing
grab ass. It’s actually a funny story I’ll tell some other time. Steve, I just reread your great story
“Talking to the poet about bologna.” Perfect.
I says to myself, hmmmm, talking to Kell about
boloney, now there’s a conundrum. Kell and
legerdemain were never far apart.
OH, I have six dozen stories about that cat, and
gawd love him, he was an example of why we adore
November 17, 2011 at 8:32 pm
Here’s some links for Kell
Obituary in the Santa Fe New Mexican:
A photo inside Kell’s house the day of his funeral:
A 2004 profile in No Depression magazine:
The first time I had Kell on my radio show, (The Santa Fe Opry, KSFR), he was setting up in the studio with his guitar and a bottle of tequila. The young man who was engineering for me started freaking out — “Alcohol isn’t allowed on the Santa Fe Community College campus!”
Now I didn’t have the guts to come between Kell Robertson and a bottle of tequila, but his longtime pal Argos MacCallum did . He snatched the bottle and hid it somewhere and about five seconds before I was going to start his live segment, Kell bolted from the studio. I was dumfounded. Stammered for a few seconds then put on a song from his CD. Somewhere in the halls of Santa Fe Community College after 10 p.m. was a drunken, pissed off and lost Kell Robertson.
It took a few minutes — about three songs on the CD if I remember correctly — but Argos found him. He cooled down and played on the air.
I’m doing a tribute show for Kell on The Santa Fe Opry tonight.
November 17, 2011 at 8:34 pm
Absolutely spot on, John!
Kell was something else.
(the part about the saddle should be taken
metaphorically, simply because I’m not
sure Kell ever rode a horse) I wish I would
have taken photographs of the inside of
his tiny cabin……….
Tell us more, John, you were there at the beginning
of Kell’s literary life…….
(the pistol he threw into Springer Lake about ten
years ago, if I have the story right) ……
Kendall would know the rest of that……
Just write on my tombstone, Lord if I get a tombstone / Or maybe just a honky-tonk wall / That he was crazy for ladies, Lord, and guitars and babies / And a damned old fool for the waltz.
— Kell Robertson
© 2018 Kell Robertson
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