I bought tickets to see David Allan Coe back in early December when they first went on sale. I was still on my outlaw-country high from my brother Jim's visit here at Thanksgiving. I had been to Marathon Music Works to see Wanda Jackson on their opening night a couple of months back; and it's a fun, new venue. I really didn't know what to expect from Mr. Coe.
The hub was my escort for the evening. We took our time at dinner and missed the first act for the night, Denney and the Jets. Now, y'all know the hub is not a big country music fan; but he didn't seem to mind the folksy Americana played by Johnny Corndawg. I don't know who the fella is in the plaid shirt. Sorry. Johnny called him up on stage to do a song or two. They were all great.
Everyone was beginning to chant "D-A-C, D-A-C" when the man took the stage. Honestly, I didn't know what he would look like. I was not, however, expecting a three-foot blond, dreadlock wig. Humm. The grey, bead-braided beard? I kinda get that. But the wig? Not so much.
Of course, the man has passed his prime, seen his glory days and is probably a mere shell of what he was. Aren't we all? But just going to see him and hear him sing was a priceless moment. And hey, who is to say what kinda wig I'll be wearing when I'm 73? Just sayin'.
This picture kind of catured the essence of the man that was. A big ol' tour bus on a dark road parked behind a whole lotta hog.
Gotta love it.
Labels: Brother Jim, Hub, Music, Nashville