She's Gone Country

Somewhere, in the deep darkness of a fall New York City night, there lurked a group of people banned together by beer, belt buckles, stetsons, and the lure of a steel guitear. From the ashes of punk bands and indie rock fanatics, the doors of Irving Plaza opened and the sounds of boot heels and yee-haws exploded as the music of Robert Earl Keen found its way to the city that never sleeps. As for me, not only was I there singing along to Gringo Honeymoon and Merry Christmas From the Family, but I was belting it out from the VIP section upstairs. Yes, thanks to a very generous friend who's step dad happens to be the drummer for Robert Earl, who hooked her and her friends up accordingly, I got a piece of home that I had desperately been missing! I am almost certain that all of the Texans in New York were standing side-by-side in one room down in the village. I know that they were all Texans because each young man was dressed in his best Texas gear: jeans, boots, and a nicely washed button down shirt--or an Aggie shirt--and twirling their ladies around with all of the two-step abandon they could muster. It sort of reminded me of a wild night at the Pike house in college dancing with Pi girls on the fireplace, yeah, good time, but I digress. All in all it was a fantastic night and really helped my little Texas soul to a much needed dose of home.

And the best part, which I saved for the end because that's where best parts go, is that when the concert was over, our VIP badges got their mojo working and before I knew it, I was standing face-face-with Robert Earl himself, shaking hands and swapping stories about the state that we all call home. He was funny, gracious, and has a super laugh...it was the perfect ending to the perfect country night...via New York City. I'm still sort of glowing from the whole thing...indeed The Road Goes on Forever...