30 Years and Counting III; Once More into the Breach...

Previously, in 30 Years and Counting...

(I can almost hear Taurean Blacque* reading that line as a voice-over)

I laid out the issues troubling me about the upcoming Reunion and opened up a can of good old-fashioned Texas Whoop-ass on my insecurities. With Captain Paranoia's attempts at reprobation muffled to indistinct muttering, I loaded up the minivan and headed to Tulsa.

At this time in my life, I'm fortunate that I'm no longer chained to a time clock. Having more flexibility than I used to, I was able to head north a day earlier than planned so that I could attend the club gig of Jaimie Muehlhausen...one of my classmates who is a professional musician. Between a minor mechanical problem and Oklahoma's tendency to place nearly every major highway in the state under construction at the same time, I arrived in T-town a bit later than I'd planned. After I got settled at my dad's place (and tried once again to convince him that the purpose of this visit was the Reunion and not to spend every waking moment with him), I arrived at the Sunset Grill about an hour and a half late...well into Jaimie's performance.

I was lucky enough to find a parking spot right in front of the club. As I got out of the van, I could hear a couple of women sitting at an outdoor table speculating on whether or not it really was Jim Rice getting out of the van. I smiled, said, "Hi!", assured them it was I, then headed into the club. Almost immediately, my insecurities began to dissolve. To a faint chorus of "I'm Mellltinngggg!" from the Captain, I was warmly greeted with smiles and hugs by Bo, Diane, and Cheryl. After grabbing a Guinness at the bar, I was warmly greeted by Sheilah, Brian, and Rob...all to a background of "Roots Rockin' Swamp/Blues/Americana/Southern/Country/Soul" by Jaimie, Tom, Kathy, and Liz. I was surrounded by warmth and acceptance. In spite of what Thomas Wolfe once wrote, I felt like I'd come home.

Next time...Memories; they aren't just for Cats!...

Until then, best regards...


*Think: Hill Street Blues.


© 2009 James P. Rice