How 'bout them cowgirls?

A mere 24 hours ago, I was breathing the same air as George Strait. Our seats were pretty close...to the back of the stage. So I got to look at George’s butt for two hours, butt I’m not complaining. The acoustics from this location were better than in most places in the UNM Pit, and he was sure soundin’ good last night. He just stood there and sang and sang and sang, hit after hit after hit. With a few surprises thrown in, too. For his encore, he sang two Johnny Cash songs - go figure! Walk the Line and Folsom Prison Blues. And he rocked ‘em. You da man, George. His Ace in the Hole band (though there’s enough of them I think they deserve to be called the Ace in the Hole Orchestra) is simply the best.


The set list was heavy on his cowboy songs, and it just doesn’t get any better than that. And since it was cowgirls’ night out, neighbor Sue and her daughter, Katya, and I were just plum tickled. This being a milestone birthday celebration for Sue and the reason we were out past our bedtimes in the first place, I catered a pre-concert tailgate party in the cab of my truck.


A bit of pre-concert reconnaissance allowed us to park in the right spot and avoid the traffic jams after the show was over, but it was still 1 a.m. before I got home. The herd was surprisingly understanding and didn’t complain too loudly when I slept in til 7:30. But I needed my coffee desperately. Chores first, though. So I tossed hay and scooped poop and thought about coffee. Then I finished my chores, made coffee, and thought about George Strait. Then the “your coffee’s done” alarm sounded, I ran to the kitchen and UGHHH. I had to start all over again - I forgot to put the coffee in the filter.


And the rest of the day went pretty much the same as the first pot of coffee.