Who would ever have thought that 52 years after his death Robert Johnson would go gold?

A friend of mine wrote recently and asked: Can you imagine him walking down a crowded city street, seeing his name and face displayed in a store window? Well, I can and I can't. It's a metaphor I've imagined many times in the past: Blind Willie McTell wandering into the TK studio in Miami in the late 1970s (don't ask me why TK; remember, this is just a dream); Robert Johnson hearing his songs on the radio on a hot summer's night.