Yesterday, I did the unthinkable.
I turned my mother into a good groupie.
This is the woman who I know loves me to no end but generally rolls her eyes or sighs disparagingly when I’m laying out my musical escapades for her. (Y’know, so when I don’t turn up in three days, she knows where to start looking.) She asks why I need to see Band So-and-so for the 12th time, and why can’t I just go to the show in-town and be done with it? Why traipse all over Texas – and the country – in pursuit of live music?
I’ve long since given up trying to explain my own personal insanity to her.
But when she turned the tables and asked if I would be interested in making a day trip to Fredericksburg to see a pianist, Emile Pandolfi, she’s been dying to see live for years, I leaped at the chance – because now I have something to point to and say “Well, remember that one time we drove to Fredericksburg? Yeah, that’s why I do this.”
That, and it held the promise of a free lunch – probably somewhere I could get a good cheeseburger. And I’ll do anything for a good cheeseburger.
Well…almost anything. I do have to retain the “good” in my name. [Read more…]