Falling In Love With Cities and Dead Musicians

When I was nineteen, I fell in love with Stevie Ray Vaughan.

And by proxy, I fell in love with Austin – this weird little music-loving burg in the heart of Hill Country. The place Willie has a street named after him.

I’m going to Austin next month for Austin City Limits.

Image by Brooke Weber.

Image by Brooke Weber.

To say I’m excited is an understatement akin to saying the Beyhive can occasionally be a little intense.

I’m going to Austin with two of my favorite people, I’m going to see Outkast and Pearl Jam and Gaslight Anthem and Benjamin Booker and holy fucking shit you guys, I’m going to see The Replacements live.

I’m going to eat ALL the food because Austin is the land of migas and tacos and vegan Frito pies. I’m going to drink Shiner Bock while listening to bluesy boogie rock and I’m going to take a shitload of pictures. I’m gonna be talked out of buying a pair of cowboy boots and talked into taking one more shot (which is always the best/worst idea).

And I’m going to leave a fresh pack of guitar strings at the Stevie Ray Vaughan memorial at Lady Bird Lake.

It’s a bit silly, really. I mean, it’s not like he’s going to use them and odds are, they’re going to be stolen like, five minutes later.

(To the dude that’s gonna steal the strings: Play Lenny and if you don’t know any SRV, play a little Willie and if you don’t know any Willie, but the damn strings back)

But, when I was nineteen, I fell in love.

And love isn’t rational.

So, you leave six slinky strings for a man long gone and hope that somewhere amid the chaos and calm of the universe, he knows that you’re grateful for all the love he passed your way and that even though you never knew him, you miss him.

One thought on “Falling In Love With Cities and Dead Musicians

  1. Chick, I dig you! I can’t remember quite exactly what it was that I was Google searching the day that I was brought to your blog. I believe it was something along the lines of, “I’m too young to feel like dying and old enough to know that this is all bullshit.” And by “bullshit” I, of course, meant my life. I used to blog and miss it from time to time, but what I miss more is having enough humor to see life in all its absurdity. Now whenever I try to write, the first line usually ends up being something that would probably inspire a chorus of groans. What can I say? Life got to me and it’s hard to act like it didn’t.

    Anyway, this post made me tear up and I’m going to scroll down and try to find the blog that Google helped me find. I wasn’t searching for blogs in particular, just anything that would result in something I could find solace in. I figured I’d end up in a Yahoo forum…but that’s besides the point. Reading whatever it was that you wrote about that day just made me smile because it reminded me of who I used to be–the person I really got a kick out of. It’s just good to know that there are rad people still out there. If my band ends up touring through your neck of the woods, maybe you could show up and I could give you a hug for being one of those rare ones.

    Keep doing what you do! Please don’t ever stop! You’re wonderful!

    Love always,
    An Avid Follower

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