Thank you to all the folks at the f8 - Fine Art Gallery...they let me by another book of Andy Warhol stamps. Woohoo! I never knew how good I had it in Lincoln, Nebraska...cheap bourbon, tons of Andy Warhol stamps and emo rock for miles and miles. Ah...those were the days.

BUT! I will say that I do miss that Mid-western friendliness. I've had more people ask me in Virginia if I work at the store we’re visiting or if I knew them for saying "hello." The worst is the "I roll my eyes at you for being so friendly" look...wanted to snatch that girl baldheaded.

As a return to the initial purpose of the site...I did see a live show on Saturday night! Now, the live show was my mother's band...so there will be some bias in the comments. Almost Patsy Cline played the 11th Street Bar in Bandera, Texas to Al (who celebrated his birthday multiple times that night), 2 Germans, a divine redhead from Chicago and (maybe) hundreds of other locals. Definitely tens of other locals...and most of them sober. Ok...a third of them sober.

My mother's talent resides in two areas on stage; 1) her ability to sing and harmonize with anyone on any song you can name and 2) her stage presence. The first is pure, born-in talent...the second is a learned quality that does not approach Aretha, but isn't far off. After playing the 1st set of the 4th show that weekend, her first words off stage were, "Where's my cheese burger?" You have to love a mama that's near-diva off stage.

Crowd favorites this night included "Man of Constant Sorrow" - a woman in a short denim skirt and a straw hat screamed and threw her hands up high (spilling her wine cooler) saying; "I love that song!" - "Song for the Workin' Man" - again "a scream and a spill; "I love that song!" - and "Just Call Me Lonesome" - by this time I think she was passed out in Elron's arms. Elron explained earlier in the night that the gold chain with the gold crawfish (holding a diamond in it's pincher, no less) dangling around his neck identified him as a "coon ass."

The true value of a band to it's fans, or at least the one's who don't want to listen someone else's selections on the jukebox, is how much they will pay to keep you playing at the end of the night. Almost Patsy Cline cleared $186 for an additional hour Saturday night...very respectable considering I've seen crowds come up with less than 1/2 that to entice Beaver Nelson to stay on…and he did ($15 of that was my money...I was encouraged when Beaver grabbed me by the arm and in a raspy voice said, "You're gonna get the dog." By that he meant "Stray Dog"...a crowd and one of my favorites.)

Watching, listening and beaming at your mother on stage for 3 hours is a wonderful way to show your appreciation. Helping her tear down and load up? That's for the boyfriends and husbands. We took our leave during one of the 13,000 George Strait songs in the universe, only to stop off at the Fool Moon cafe for wine and cigarettes. Something about that place makes it impossible to leave before 3 am...just ask the owner.