Well, to start off our 3-week cross country road trip, we were fighting before we got out of the driveway. If you know my family, you're not surprized.
After that, the drive was fairly uneventful. We saw a lot of trees and rocks. And tried to find Get The Led Out on a radio staion up here. No luck. I just really hope they archive that interview or something....
Anyways, we finally got to Nashville. It's somewhere close to 10:00 by now (I'm not sure about the time change and everything).
There's an ironic story behind this; way back when I was addicted to ledzeppelin.com, and Robert Plant was recording "Raising Sand" with Allison Krauss (a great album, btw), someone on the forum talked about this little hole-in-the-wall in Nashville called Edgehill Cafe. It's in downtown Nashville, close to most of the major recording studios, and musicians often go eat there. (Of course, we were talking about Robert in particular at that time.) So years after hearing about this little place where all the musicians hang out, we finally pull up to Edgehill Village last night. After a horrible time with "that damn Tom Tom!!" The actual Cafe was closed, but the Mexican place across the street was open. We were standing outside, trying to decide if we should go eat or not.
A waitress comes out and goes "You guys comin' in?"
"Well, we're tryin' to decide..."
"I think you should" And she grinned and lead us inside.
This is where it gets good...
Before we even got to the booth, an older man with an iconic long white beard and signature beanie walked past us.
I knew instantly that it was him. I had just walked past Billy Gibbons.
Dad looked at me like a 10-year-old "Is it?..."
The waitress looked back at him, smiling"Yes, it is."
When I walked over to the bar and asked for his autograph, I had no clue that it would turn into one of the most interesting conversations of my life.
I stood at the bar in Taco Mamacita for about half an hour talking to Billy Gibbons and his really nice lady friend.
Oh, and he taught me how to gamble. He found out we were going to Vegas and whipped a set of red dice out of his pocket. Yeah, he carries dice in his coat pocket. I now know that if I ever shoot dice, I should throw left-handed. He could feel that it was my lucky hand. After four or five rolls switching between hands, we figured out that he was right. Of course he's right, he's Billy Gibbons.
So we talked. About everything. Music, war, religion, which religion was going to win the war, pop culture, EVERTHING.
"I'm a white man, why would the Indians (Native Americans, not real Indians) let me into their sacred holy land? 'Cause everybody wants to rock..."
Yeah, it was quite a night.
We finally left him alone to enjoy his drink, and on the way back to the booth, the waitress smiled and said "I told you needed to come in"
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