Wednesday, March 9, 2016

The right thing's always the hardest thing to do

Part 1

I always wait too long to snap a picture. Mostly because I am too busy enjoying the fucking show!
In-between the in-between we watched people march in who skipped the opening act. I was glad there weren't many who did so.

People, always, always, ALWAYS get there for the opening act. You may just fall in love.

Jason Isbell and his band came out. He had an adorable fiddle player alongside him.

I think that might be his wife. It's her birthday today.

I had no idea his wife played in the band.

She has her own band so that might not be her.

There's this thing that Isbell does that I haven't seen others do. He introduces a bandmate - just one - after a song. Each band member gets their own moment, not the usual on drums... on bass... on guitar... all crammed in in the middle of a song. I like the way he does that.

He introduced his fiddle player. Amanda Shires. His wife. Then he told us it was her birthday. 2,000 or so of us serenaded her. He never took his eyes off of her the whole time.

That was the moment I fell in love with him.

Southeastern has become my favorite record. Like, of ever. It replaces Blood on the Tracks.

It's like an inside story that addicts understand because they've lived it. Throw in being a road comic and sprinkle in a dash of cancer and, well, if I had the musical talent it is very much the record I would have written.

I could write a dribble for each song on that record.

So when he told the story of Cover Me Up and sang it I felt a sense of gratitude. For my sobriety. For the friends left standing. For The Gorgeous Blonde's courage in the face of it all.

I was glad she dragged me to a show five hours away that I wasn't sure I even cared to see.

Mostly, I was glad she stayed.

He didn't do my favorite song, Elephant. I was okay with that. It may have been too much if he had.

Byline Saint Augustine, man ejaculates all over 2,000 fans in attendance at Jason Isbell concert!

It was well within the realm of possibility.

After the show we went out for pizza. Our ginger waiter was Brent but, he went by Red. I told him that was too on point and called him Ginger. He didn't get the irony.

We got to our hotel room and I realized I forgot my earplugs. TGB mocked me as she put hers in and drifted.

At 3:30 AM I was awakened by screams. Once I came to I realized the screams were an attempt at singing Hotel California by a drunk in the next room at the top of his lungs.

My in-between was over. I laid there remembering why I hate people as I looked over at TGB sleeping. Sure, I may have wanted to flick her nose but, I didn't do it because I am a good person! Also, I want to live.

Titty sprinkles!