Up the street, just a few minutes walk away, is a bar called C-Boys. It used to be a hole-in-the-wall punky loud bar (with rumors of a knife fight) until the Continental Club bought it and turned it into a high quality rhythm-and-blues bar.
Banjo Man decided to check it out for himself yesterday.
Paul Oscher, Muddy Waters’ harmonica player, did a show at 6 PM.
Paul Oscher and James Cotton, from pauloscher.com
Banjo Man had a great time. He came home beaming, a new cd in his hand and a big smile on his face.
We’re going back to C-Boys later this evening, hopefully before the rains come, but Paul Oscher is going to be performing at the Saxon.
Austin is expecting heavy rains and flash floods tonight, which will certainly be a problem for the dozens (hundreds?) of outdoor shows this evening. We won’t be driving anywhere.
Yesterday I went nowhere. Eight hours at the Saxon wrecked me, which I hate to admit. And there was no music I just had to see yesterday. My ears were tired, which I also hate to admit.
Banjo Man is playing his new blues cd right now. Paul Oscher told him which cd to buy, which makes it even more special.
Last night may go down in history, as far as Banjo Man and I are concerned. We spent eight hours at the Saxon Pub, our favorite music spot in Austin, to see many of our favorite musicians in one night, in one place.
Epic, I tell you. Epic.
We arrived at 5:30 PM, intent upon getting a seat. The Saxon is not a big place, but we found seats in one of three booths on the far side of the room.
See how happy we are to be sitting down?
Walt Wilkins and his band played the 6 PM Happy Hour. They were a rockin’ band with great harmonies. Walt was pretty laid back and totally hilarious. Banjo Man bought 2 cd’s.
Walt Wilkins in the middle. Great band!!!!
The three of us (Story Man, aka Son #2) paced ourselves with root beer and ginger ale.
At 8:oo the “Ameripolitan” showcase began. Dale Watson (he was on Jimmy Kimmel last night) is one of Austin’s (and Texas) stars. He is a huge promoter of country and roots music. In 2013 he heard a Blake Shelton interview where Shelton made derogatory comments about traditional country music, inspiring the “Old Farts and Jackasses” movement in response.
You can read all about it HERE (pretty funny stuff). I gave up listening to country music radio back in the early 90’s, when it turned into pop music, as did a lot of people!
Dale and other Austin music lovers founded the Ameripolitan Music movement, with its own awards show, to promote American Roots music–country, hillbilly, rockabilly, etc.
Last night’s lineup:
Dallas Wayne, of Sirius Radio fame. He also plays in Redd Volkeart’s band, Heybale.
Dallas Wayne
Ray Benson, of Asleep At The Wheel! This guy is TALL. And what a voice!! We saw him the night before, with the whole band. Last night he played after having two root canals, which was amazing. He’s a pretty funny guy and I could have listened to him all night, but he had to go home and take the pain pills his dentist gave him.
Ray Benson
Earl Poole Ball, also known as Mr. Honky Tonk Piano, was Johnny Cash’s piano player for a gazillion years. It’s always a pleasure to hear Earl on the keyboard. A highlight of any evening in Austin! A few years ago we were at Threadgills North to hear him play and ended up being part of his birthday party. I can say, “Earl Poole Ball served me a piece of birthday cake!”
Earl and Dale Watson talk about Earl writing a book. The man must have enough on-the-road stories for at least 6 books!
Dale and Rosie talk about the old days touring California.
Jesse Dayton is now one of my new favorite musicians. He opened with a song called “Daddy Was a Bad Ass”. I am going to buy all of his cd’s as soon as I finish this post and save them for June’s road trip.
Jesse Dayton. Great band, too.
Amber Digby, beautiful young woman with a beautiful voice. The kind of voice that makes singing country songs sound easy!
Amber Digby.
I’ve posted about Bill Kirchen many times. Banjo Man and I are almost Kirchen Groupies because we’ve seen him so many times, in Texas and RI and Massachusetts. “A guitar player’s guitar player”, Dale Watson said. So true. He thrilled the crowd with his legendary Hot Rod Lincoln song, along with all of the side affects. I sat with him at a picnic table at Guero’s about three years ago and we watched Johnny Gimble perform what may have been one of his last shows. We agreed it was bittersweet, but an honor to just be there to see Johnny one more time. I like Bill. I wish he lived next door so I could bake him peach pies.
Bill Kirchen
Which brings me to another HUGE FAVORITE of mine, Suzy Bogguss.
Last year we saw her at Opa’s, and then we hiked a mile (which felt like ten) to see her perform in East Austin. That was the night where, a few blocks away at the same time we were heading home, the man escaping the police crashed his car into dozens of SXSW concert goers.
Suzy sang Merle Haggard songs from the cd she released last year, plus she did a personal fave, “I Want To Be A Cowboy’s Sweetheart”, written back in the 1930’s by one of the female pioneers of country music, Patsy Montana.
Dale made her sing a “yodel encore” and the crowd loved it.
Suzy Bogguss
And now it was 1:45 AM.
The Saxon doesn’t serve food, but there is a pizza restaurant nearby that delivers. Sometime between Walt Wilkins and Dallas Wayne, we consumed a medium pepperoni pizza and four more root beers.
I indulged in only one margarita. I had to pace myself.
Banjo Man padded his wooden seat with a folded sweatshirt. Story Man used a thick newspaper. I needed no padding and did just fine, though I did get testy when one camera-toting tourist kept stepping in front of me to take pictures. I moved him aside several times when he didn’t move after taking his shots. He’s lucky I didn’t kick him with the pointed toe of my boot.
But I thought about it. I even got my feet in position a few times. I finally had to direct him to a place where he could stand without blocking my view or the ladies room door.
So today, Thursday, we are home. We slept late. Story Man went to work at the BBQ place, where he is learning about smoking brisket. Banjo Man is cooking beans–I haven’t asked why. He is going to wander around later and go to some of the “day shows”. I need to work, get a few more pages written on the Last Writing Project Ever, and later on we will see where we will go tonight.
Saturday evening on South Congress means there is live music at Guero’s Taco Bar. I love their trees!
Saturday afternoon Banjo Man spent a couple of hours at the Continental Club listening to Redd Volkaert and his band rock the house. I stayed at the condo to work, despite our new neighbor’s incredibly intense remodeling project. Despite using my earbuds (and piping subliminal writing music into my brain) the constant noise of his drilling and pounding and banging had made me crazy.
I was to meet Banjo Man at the Continental Club and we were to go out to dinner somewhere along the tourist-filled street. By 5:30 I was ready to either throw myself face down into the pool or drink a margarita.
It’s always best to choose tequila over death.
Banjo Man could tell I was at some kind of breaking point, so he fed me (Chicken Cabo at the Magnolia Cafe) and then hustled me down the sidewalk to find some music and alcohol.
Music = Happy.
I have never been much of a drinker. There was one severe and life-changing episode at Mardi Gras when I was seventeen and drank four Hurricanes and was so sick all night I thought I was going to die. There has never been an event like that since then. But when I turned 60 and ended up going back to work, well, I discovered that having a margarita once in a while wasn’t such a bad thing. Tequila didn’t make me sick (whiskey) or give me a migraine (gin, rum) or make me sleepy (wine). In fact, it made me positively cheerful.
Which, after Really Bad Writing Days, Banjo Man is grateful for.
Texans love rain. And it has been raining for a couple of days. Everyone is happy about this, so in honor of the good bad weather, here’s Doc Watson singing, “Let it rain, let it pour, let it rain a whole lot more” because he’s got the Deep River Blues.
When you spend any time at all in the Baltimore airport, you quickly learn that Baltimore loves (1) crabs and (2) NCIS.
You can purchase any article of clothing, mug, key chain, stuffed animal, etc. with a crab on it.
I tried to find my 4-year old grandson something, but the “Don’t Bother Me, I’m Crabby” t-shirt would have sent the wrong message at preschool.
You can also find Obama and Michelle bobble-head dolls. Somehow I managed to resist buying those, too.
I had a 3 1/2 hour layover in Baltimore Saturday evening, but it wasn’t a problem at all. I’d slept the entire flight from Providence, so I was feeling perky again. The airport has great food (and a restaurant that serves crab cakes!!!), a frozen yogurt stand (if you can afford $6 desserts–I skipped it this time) and The Body Shop.
I love The Body Shop. There is always a sale, which I take advantage of (Buy 2, Get 1 Free!!!) and load up on my favorite “Hemp” hand protector cream and maybe a lipstick (which I rarely remember to wear), and then there’s the challenge of trying to fit everything into an already stuffed carry on bag.
The saleswoman and I discussed Argan Oil and how it works on sore feet. That was fun.
Then I ate a Quizno’s sandwich and checked my email via the **free** Wifi.
I always think free Wifi is a lovely thing for an airport to give to its customers.
Sometimes when I am killing time in an airport I go to the newstand and look at the zillions of magazines. Did you know that the Nashville airport is the only place I’ve ever seen quilting magazines for sale?
I guess the airport vendors don’t think quilters travel? There are cooking magazines and decorating magazines, but no quilting.
I always pick two magazines that I am least likely to buy. After much deliberation, the two winners were Hot Bike and backpacker.
If you know me at all, then you know this makes perfect sense.
This is not me. But she might be wearing Body Shop lipstick and Hemp hand cream. But where is her “I’m Crabby” t-shirt?
When it was time to board the plane for Austin, the flight attendant at the gate announced the plane was only 1/3 full so we would have plenty of room to spread out. (This was the opposite of the last time I flew out of Baltimore, which I’m not sure I ever blogged about, but it resulted in a long phone call with Customer Service at Southwest and two nice big credits in our accounts.)
Story Man was there waiting to greet me, although he thinks his new nickname should now be Grease Man, because he is working at a BBQ place and learning the meat business.
It was good to see him, whatever his name was.
It was raining a bit in Austin at midnight. And it was chilly, but not cold. Not cold like 8 degrees-on-a-Rhode-Island-morning cold. But I was glad to have sweater and I was **very** glad that there was no snow.
Jeff comes over on Fridays at 9 AM and we play music together until noon.
Doesn’t that sound **great**???!!!!??
It is.
He has taught me many new songs this winter. And he made covers for our “Jeff and More Pie” music books. They have red cowboy boots and lap steel guitars on them.
Jeff sings and plays the guitar and the mandolin.
I back him up with the dobro. I get to try out “hammer on’s” and “pull offs”. I get to memorize where the minor chords are. I get to play harmony and slide into some really cool chords.
Banjo Man is home safely from his trip, I’m packing for Texas, and by the time I return home again all of the snow in the above photo will have disappeared!
Another nasty, snowy winter will have come to an end.
It has been snowing again. All last night. All day today.
Constantly.
I pray it stops by Saturday morning so I can get on a plane and head to Texas.
My grandson called this afternoon and wanted to know when I was arriving.
He wanted to know the plan.
Grandma doesn’t need a plan. Grandma just wants to take off her snow boots and put on her cowboy boots.
That’s Grandma’s plan.
P.S. I told him we would go out to breakfast at the Magnolia Cafe and then walk down the street to buy cupcakes! That seemed to be a good plan as far as a four-year old was concerned.
is there any more pie? 