http://www.cmt.com/news/20-questions/1571426/20-questions-with-merle-haggard.jhtml

Just a few intersting answers to questions he was asked:

1. What was it like to be part of the music scene in Bakersfield, Calif., in the 1960s?

It was tremendous. It'd be hard for you to understand. It was like a carnival. There were maybe 20 nightclubs that were putting out good entertainment and maybe four or five of them were top-notch, with people that went on to be famous. Starting in 1960, I was a raw kid. I'd been in trouble and didn't have much going for me, and I was able to claw my way into that clique and it gave me a start in music. I was able to play in the clubs for a few years before I had to present myself as a well-known artist. I had this experience under my belt, which I don't think is available nowadays for an artist. There no place for an artist to go unless he goes to New York or New Orleans, which is in such a shape now that it can't support much. And I'm suspicious of a lot of things about New Orleans. I think maybe they control them damn storms and got rid of the nightlife, the queers and the musicians and everybody. ... I mean, those storms always turn right and go across Florida. For some reason or another, [Katrina] came directly in there, and it makes me wonder if they laser-beamed it and heated the water.

2. In those early days, how did you deal with a rowdy crowd or a crowd that was just nuts?

It really wasn't that way. There were always a couple of honchos that took care of people like that. It was their job. They were famous for it. It was better than having the police around. ... There was no law enforcement that came around and made you sit down in your chair. The club either had bouncers on payroll, or if somebody insulted the waitress, there'd be somebody to take care of 'em. Back in the days of the Mafia, Las Vegas, Bakersfield and Los Angeles had their own law, and it was much safer. People didn't get robbed. Now it's almost like the criminals have an intent to beat the law. Las Vegas is a terrible place. Bakersfield is a terrible place. Didn't used to be that way. I was in both places and worked in both towns, and you could walk down the streets anywhere in Las Vegas in the '60s. The Mafia ran it then, and they didn't want nobody robbing nobody. They made sure of it. A lot of people wouldn't understand that. They don't realize what kind of an America there used to be. They just don't know.
 

5. When you think of bluegrass, who do you think is doing the best work out there?

I think bluegrass may be the only country music that's really alive. You talk about roots, they may be the only people actually playing their instruments and refusing to use tuners and things of that nature. ... There are some people around like Marty Stuart and Ronnie Reno that are still trying to hold it in the road. They're friends of mine and people I asked to help me make that record (The Bluegrass Sessions). And it's a minority. It's a cult music, and I think it's that way because it refuses to alter.
 

10. Could you please explain your relationship with Gram Parsons and tell me what happened when he wanted you to produce his solo album, and what did you think of the songs he recorded of yours?

He came to my house when I lived in Bakersfield probably in the late '60s, and we talked about what we were going to do. Shortly thereafter, well, he was dead. ... Very complimentary. It's a form of flattery when someone records your music, when they accept it that way.
20. Looking back over the years, is there one decision that you would do differently?

Oh, there are a lot of them that I would change. I did something early in my career that I'll never get over. They'll punish me for it the rest of my life. I had a chance to be on the very first worldwide television show of Ed Sullivan's, and we had seven days of rehearsal. There was no taping in those days and you had to rehearse seven days. I was doing Rodgers & Hammerstein's Oklahoma and I was playing the part of Curly. Every day, there was more choreography that became part of my part, and I told them in the beginning that I didn't do that kind of thing.

About six days into the deal, we had six days of rehearsal, and on the day of the shooting I told them to cram it. And they had me dancing to the tulips between Jeannie C. Riley and Minnie Pearl, and there would be a queer to grab my ass every time I came around where he was at. I just finally told 'em, I said, "Hey, I'll be in the bus. You'll find me in the bus." ... Jeannie C. Riley came out and cried and cried, trying to get me to go back, and I said no. I said, "I've built up a following of truck drivers and people of that nature, and they wouldn't find this very funny." Since then, there are enemies of mine that lay in the grass and weeds that show their ugly head every once in a while to keep me from going on Larry King Live or something of that nature. The only thing I can figure is I've got an enemy out there in the television community.