Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Good Luck Good Truckin' Tonight

At the end of my trip to Austin, back in September, I met a country western musician named Dale Watson who had been performing at a bar during chicken shit bingo. Watching the band perform, I was mesmerized by Dale's style and soulful music. Striking up a conversation with him, it turned out he was a gentle being who had a curious nature too. After figuring out each other's story, Dale said he would put me and my friend on the guest-list for his performance the next night. Megan and I made a bet that he actually would (me) /wouldn't (she) follow through.

After a day out in the Texan heat, we went to the venue to cool down and listen to some music. Sure enough, our names were on the list. Dale wrapped up the set, greeted us with two Lone Star beers and we talked till the bar closed. We exchanged emails--knowing we would never see each other again.

But providence intervened one day in the form of being at the right place at the right time.

My friend Doug and I were waiting in line to get tickets to see the Noevelle Vague show in Boston. I had previously purchased my ticket and Doug was seeing if he could get one at the box office. No such luck. Doug jokingly said that he would go see this Dale Watson band pointing across the street. My mind had no recognition of the familiar name until I turned and saw it written along the side of a big ruby-red bus. I know that guy! I immediately enlisted Doug to come with me.

I had the script laid out in my muffled head of what I would say. Dale's tour manager told us to wait as Dale was changing. I filled Doug in on how I knew a country western musician. Doug was confused, but of course, laughed at the story. The tour manager signaled us to come in.

Dale greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and excitedly proclaimed, "You remembered I was playing Boston." I will say it was an extremely odd and tense minute while I explained that this was just a coincidence and I was actually seeing the band across the street. Dale didn't seem to mind.

We wrapped up our friendly conversation and I went to go see my show while Dale went to go play his. I told Doug he should go see Dale's show. "I already got a show tonight," Doug replied.

I should clarify right away here that I wasn't interested in this musician or was he in me. It would be pleasurable for me to continue on explaining this stuff with details, but I know my reader's attention spans are short and so is mine in writing this. Any proper storyteller would find huge gaps in my narrative, as I have left dialogue out, not to mention skipping over some pretty vital detail like what the hell is chicken shit bingo. I assure you, if this were a short story I would be lavishing you with details. But it's a blog post. That alone warrants me to keep it short.

I will leave you with this video:

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