Eliza knew she was skinny. Her mama used to tell her, "Girl, you just a slip cover for your bones. I swear you the only girl in Filo County who could come late to Easter Service and just pick up someone's bible if you needs a place to sit."
She hailed from Filo Couny, Nebraska, a place so flat that the souvenir post cards at Alston's Drug Store appeared to be empty frames. On a good day Daddy said you could see tomoorw com'n. Eliza guessed tomorrow wasn't much to look at.
The day she stepped over the county line, Eliza was as angry as the fresh welt rising under her left eye.
"Good bye, Filo County. I hope the winds and the rain take the summer off so's that you crack and peal til there ain't noth'n show'n here, but the rafters of Hell."
Skinny as Robert Plant when he could still sing.
Flat as the notes he's pumping out now.
Angry as Jimmy Page for having to do another album with Robert.
Actually, I'm just kidding about all this. I love the Zep in all its incarnations.