My heroes have always been cowboys
I saw Willie Nelson perform at The Dodge Theatre in Downtown Phoenix last night. My Mom got me two tickets for my birthday. I haven’t yet met the woman that thinks that spending a Friday evening with me listening to a 73 year old country crooner sounds like a good time, so I took my buddy Billy. The Billy digs Willie as well, although I gather it’s from a slightly different perspective. When I asked him if he wanted to go he responded, “Hell yeah! Willie’s the original pot head.”
The Billy and I left work and went straight downtown to Seamus McCaffrey Irish Pub for some Guinness and grub. Cool place. Good french dip. Sufficiently buzzed we walked the few blocks to the Theatre arriving about 20 minutes before show time.
This was my first trip to The Dodge Theatre. It’s a great medium sized venue. It seats 5,000 for concerts. The seats were comfortable, there’s no obstructed views, and the acoustics are great. Mom got me some good seats too; lower level stage left. The lines were minimal at the restrooms and concessions. I paid $7 for a 24oz. Bud Light; industry standard.
I was intrigued by the crowd. Willie plays to a mixed audience. I saw men and women. I saw young and old. I saw cowboys and burn outs. I even saw one old burned out cowboy. Everybody stood and clapped at appropriate times and sang along when Willie encouraged it. It had an intimate feel. With Willie it’s not a show, it’s a performance. It’s just him and his band. There’s no pyrotechnics and minimal lighting effects. You can’t escape the thought that what you would really like to be doing is sitting across a campfire from him takin’ a tug on the ole’ whiskey bottle while he picks his six string and tells stories from the road.
Willie looks like your grandpa. You just want to hug the old guy. He took the stage (nearly 10 minutes after being introduced) in a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, a cowboy hat, and sneakers. He later donned the trademark bandana and periodically tossed them into the crowd; never clearing the first row.
He sounds great. I have to admit I was a little worried about this. The guy is 73 years old and has smoked enough grass to landscape the pacific northwest. His vocal cadence varied from his recordings on a few occasions but his voice was as sweet and clear as moonlight through the pines. He sounded just as good as he did coming from the speakers of my father’s old 1980 Ford pickup when I was a kid. He performed for a little over two hours singing all my favorites: Blue Eyes Crying in The Rain, Georgia On My Mind, Mammas Don’t let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys, My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys, Pancho and Lefty, On The Road Again, etc…
It was an all around great evening. I can now cross Willie Nelson off my list of people I would like to see perform live. And should I ever meet that special woman that combines stunning good looks with a love of baseball, sophomoric comedy, and old school country music I would go see Willie again.
The Billy and I left work and went straight downtown to Seamus McCaffrey Irish Pub for some Guinness and grub. Cool place. Good french dip. Sufficiently buzzed we walked the few blocks to the Theatre arriving about 20 minutes before show time.
This was my first trip to The Dodge Theatre. It’s a great medium sized venue. It seats 5,000 for concerts. The seats were comfortable, there’s no obstructed views, and the acoustics are great. Mom got me some good seats too; lower level stage left. The lines were minimal at the restrooms and concessions. I paid $7 for a 24oz. Bud Light; industry standard.
I was intrigued by the crowd. Willie plays to a mixed audience. I saw men and women. I saw young and old. I saw cowboys and burn outs. I even saw one old burned out cowboy. Everybody stood and clapped at appropriate times and sang along when Willie encouraged it. It had an intimate feel. With Willie it’s not a show, it’s a performance. It’s just him and his band. There’s no pyrotechnics and minimal lighting effects. You can’t escape the thought that what you would really like to be doing is sitting across a campfire from him takin’ a tug on the ole’ whiskey bottle while he picks his six string and tells stories from the road.
Willie looks like your grandpa. You just want to hug the old guy. He took the stage (nearly 10 minutes after being introduced) in a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, a cowboy hat, and sneakers. He later donned the trademark bandana and periodically tossed them into the crowd; never clearing the first row.
He sounds great. I have to admit I was a little worried about this. The guy is 73 years old and has smoked enough grass to landscape the pacific northwest. His vocal cadence varied from his recordings on a few occasions but his voice was as sweet and clear as moonlight through the pines. He sounded just as good as he did coming from the speakers of my father’s old 1980 Ford pickup when I was a kid. He performed for a little over two hours singing all my favorites: Blue Eyes Crying in The Rain, Georgia On My Mind, Mammas Don’t let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys, My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys, Pancho and Lefty, On The Road Again, etc…
It was an all around great evening. I can now cross Willie Nelson off my list of people I would like to see perform live. And should I ever meet that special woman that combines stunning good looks with a love of baseball, sophomoric comedy, and old school country music I would go see Willie again.
posted by Pudge | 1:23 PM
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