Concerts

I spent so many years ‘in concert’, I guess it is no surprise that I still enjoy the concert setting whether it’s from the stage, the wings or the audience.  This year I’ve gone to a few and look forward to a few more.

SOUTHERN GOSPEL – Earlier this year I went to see Legacy 5.  Scott Fowler is an old friend and always a pleasure to see and talk with.

-Debbie and I went to see the Hoppers and visited with them between sets.  They are even better on stage than on record and the sweetest bunch of folks you will ever meet this side of heaven.

-Bill Gaither called a few days ago and is going to be in Virginia in October and I plan to be right there cheering him on.  (His only prerequisite was that I come early in the afternoon because he said if we got together and got to telling stories and laughing he’d have to have some time before the show to get his voice back in shape.  And that is the gospel truth because I have lost my voice more than once laughing before a show.  Ask any singer.)

COUNTRY MUSIC      – I had plans to see George Jones this past spring when he came to Roanoke with Wilson/Fairchild opening for him.  But, of course, those well-laid plans were changed by the good Lord, himself.

-This Saturday night I plan to sit back and enjoy Wilson/Fairchild at the Rockingham County Fair.  They always amaze and entertain me and make me proud. (They put a smile on my face that won’t fade for days.)

BLUEGRASS                   -In about three weeks I’m going to see Daily and Vincent.  The best Bluegrass you’ll hear anywhere. (I come in the house just anytime and find a message on my voice mail saying, “Hey, Don and Miss Debbie. This is Jamie Daily.  What’s for supper?”)

But this past Saturday night I drove about an hour from the house to the Shenandoah Valley Music Festival to see an old friend, Kris Kristofferson. We go back to the 60s with Kris when he was working as a janitor at the Columbia Studio in Nashville and we were recording for said label.  He was sweeping up at nights and pitching songs on the side.  He used to come over to our hotel and sing us all of those early classics before anyone else ever heard them.  (Just check out on the internet the impressive list of hits he’s written.)  I told the story of him and us and “Me and Bobby McGee” in our book, Random Memories, so I won’t repeat it here, but we spent precious hours together in those early years.

Kris went on to change the face of country music for the songwriter and bring an intimacy to the art that no one has ever surpassed.  He also went on to the movies and established himself as a star in many fields.  And now he’s just standing on the stage, alone, with only his guitar and singing for two hours.  Let me say I was hypnotized for the entire time.  No one handles a lyric the way he does.

My son, Debo, and I visited with him and his wife, Lisa, on the bus before the show and at intermission and I was consumed by the memories all this conjured up.  I hadn’t seen Kris since Johnny Cash’s funeral ten years ago and I didn’t want to miss a possible last opportunity to tell him he was the best lyricist since Berlin.
His songs take me places I haven’t been in years; they bring back a youthful nature and a philosophical whim; and they let me recall a busier and more complicated time of my life that still puts a lump in my throat and a warmth in my heart.

God be with you and travel safe, Kris.  I still have that framed copy of “….Bobby McGee.”

DSR  8/9/13