As a longtime social activist, would Linda Ronstadt ever consider going into politics?
“Never,” she replied.
Why not?
“Because I’m not qualified for it. I’m qualified to be a singer.”
That said, the 11-time Grammy Award-winner has never hesitated to speak her mind on a variety of subjects, musical and otherwise.
Witness her absorbing new memoir, “Feels Like Home: Song for the Sonoran Borderlands,” which will be published Oct. 4 by Heyday. The book covers a lot of ground, including culture, music, geography, food, racism, her Mexican heritage, immigration policies and the family ties that transcend borders.
Ronstadt, 76, spoke with the San Diego Union-Tribune recently for nearly an hour. Here is our bonus Q&A with the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inductee.
Q: Do you recall the classic Bo Diddley song, “Who Do You Love?”
A: Yeah.
Q: He makes several references in the lyrics to rattlesnakes, but none to eating them. In “Feels Like Home,” you write that you are snake as a girl but didn’t like the way it tasted. What kind of snake was it?
A: (laughing) Rattlesnake!
Q: So, even though you later write in your book: “I’m not here to argue, but I still believe in lard,” lard can’t make a cooked rattle snake taste good?
A: No! Its got a bad, fishy film.
Q: My only disappointment with your book is that it does not include a photo of you and your horse, Murphy, inside your house eating ice cream together on a hot summer day.
A: (laughing) That happened a lot!
Q: You make two references in your book to “the 45th president,” Donald J. Trump, but do not name him. Why not?
A: Why don’t I name him? Because it is he who must not be named, like the bad guy in “Harry Potter,” Voldemort.
Q: You were a Kennedy Center Honors recipient in 2019. At a dinner the night before, you had an exchange with then-Secretary of State Mike Pompeo. What happened?
A: In a reference to my work, he wondered aloud when would he be loved? I answered that he would be loved when he stopped enabling Donald Trump... Ordinarily, I wouldn’t do something like that because it’s not in good manners. But this is an emergency, man. We have our rights and our democracy at stake, and need to speak up.
Q: We last spoke in 2004. We discussed how polarized the country had become and how half the audience booed and half cheered when, on your concert tour that year, you dedicated your encore of the Eagles’ “Desperado” to filmmaker Michael Moore and hailed him as “a great American patriot.” Does 2014 seem like a more innocent time now by comparison?
A: No. I knew they would boo because San Diego is a very conservative city. But I didn’t care. I felt Michael Moore deserved a lot of credit for what he did.
Q: Did you ever consider going into politics?
A: Never.
Q: Because?
A: Because I’m not qualified for it. I’m qualified to be a singer.
Q: When we spoke in 2004, you told me: “I never listen to anything I do after I finish (recording) it. If I do, it can ruin my week. I think: ‘Ugh, that sucks!’ ” How about now? Are you less of a hard critic of yourself?
A: (laughing) Oh, I think everything I do is terrible. If I’m working on it, I can always improve it. Once it’s done, you can’t improve it, even if you want to.”
Q: Does music mean something more, or different, to you now than before the pandemic began?
A: No. But the pandemic changed my life forever. I don’t go out anymore.
Q: You grew up in a very musical family in Tucson and moved to L.A. in your teens to pursue a singing career. Did you ever have any doubt you would not be a musician?
A: No. It’s all I knew how to do. I didn’t think I was going to be famous. I thought that if I could make my living playing music and just be able to pay the rent, I’d be fine.
Q: So, how did you react when you did become famous?
A: I was dumbfounded.
Q: Was it easier before you became famous, in that there were no expectations placed on you? Did it become more difficult after you achieved fame, because there were expectations to repeat and expand your commercial success?
A: There was a lot of pressure on me to not do my Mexican music record and my big band album with Nelson Riddle, I was advised, sternly, not to do it. But, to their credit, when I put those albums out, the record company got behind them, even though they thought it wouldn’t sell. They could have buried those records, but they didn’t.
Q: Of all your albums, which are your proudest of?
A: The Mexican music one, “Canciones de Mi Padre” (“Songs for My Father”). I worked really hard to make it be what I wanted it to be, which is pre-World War II ranchera music.
Q: Did you take more pride in the fact that album sold so well and made history?
A: No. It doesn’t matter. The work is what matters.
Q: When people read a music history book 100 years from now and get to your name, what do you hope to be remembered for?
A: I hope that, 100 years from now, there will be a group of humans to read something, I think it’s dicey; we may not be here a hundred years from now
Q: Does music give you hope?
A: Music is there when hope is gone.
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