james mcmurtry

james mcmurtry at the gray eagle asheville oct 18 2009 k
Originally uploaded by mygothlaundry

I went to see James McMurtry again at the Gray Eagle last night and I'm completely in love or in crush or whatever it is when you fall for someone you have never actually met. As you know if you have read this blog long, this crush is far from new. It's been going on for years, getting stirred up whenever he comes to Asheville (yes of course I have been to every damn concert he's given here in the last ten years.) It's gotten a little ridiculous because I'm starting to feel either like a young teenage girl or a complete fucking nut - not, I grant you, that there is an enormous amount of difference between these two states of being. The whole state of crush is a strange one and looking at the pictures (I only put four up on flickr but there are twelve good ones, my god I love my new lens and the Gray Eagle, which lets you get up close and has decent light) I get all shaken up inside and my heart beats a little faster. Damn, I have it bad and I am unsure if there is any cure.

Well, he's a good crush person anyway because he's a total genius and a brilliant poet and a great musician, so, you know, it's definitely more explicable than crushing away on married Ron from Accounting (note just for the record that we have no Accounting where I work, nor any Ron. I like my coworkers okay but not, you know, that way.) but, of course, with Ron from Accounting you can always take action - action that might lead to shattered lives and destroyed jobs, or just a boring date where you find out that he voted for W and has a toupee and bad breath, whichever - whereas with a famous person it's a little more difficult.

I thought about hanging around until the show was long over and hoping to bump into him, although I have actually tried that several times and it has never worked. The first time he simply headed for the door and didn't even notice me. The second time I ran into an old boyfriend and ended up going off with him instead, which was smart, because as I recall, we ended up having an argument on Lexington Avenue at 3 am and who would want to miss that? The third time I had a nice conversation with the drummer, who was the only one in the band who ever left the damn green room. And this time I just gave up and went on home without lingering.

Because, frankly, what am I going to say? I'd like to fuck you until your ears bleed? As true as that statement might be, I do not now and never have had and never will have sufficient balls to say that out loud to someone who I don't know really, really (REALLY) well. I'm shyer than you think I am. Believe it or not, I'm extremely shy for the most part - it's why I need medication in the form of 12 oz bottles of decent lager and let's all thank the beer gods that it was ever invented. Anyway, even if I was unshy enough to say something like that, you can see how it could be taken the wrong way, and instead of the recipient thinking, "Oooh, great offer, I must investigate this further," he might well think "Ewwww, go away weird stalker woman." It is a conundrum. It's too bad he didn't have a dog with him. I'm perfectly capable of holding long and intelligent conversations with strange dogs. It's just strange people - well, actually, I'm better with strange people than I am with normal ones, come to think of it - who throw me for a loop.

The show, by the way, was AMAZING. Blow you right straight out of the water amazing and incredible and I think I was even brought almost to tears a couple of times. It was crowded but that was okay and, phew, I was not the only person right up at the front of the stage looking all worshipful and a bit idiotic. I can't really think of anything else to say about it - describing concerts turns out not to be my forte, go figure - so you can just add your own superlatives here. Fantastic. Awesome. And so on.