Confessions Of A Greg Brown Fan Part Two

               I am getting way ahead of myself with road adventures.  Since the one missing recording was out of my reach, I began collecting the music of all the supporting performers on Greg’s records.  Bo Ramsey, Radoslav Lorkovic, Dave Moore, Prudence Johnson amongst others.  I was also collecting cyber friends in the discussion group we call the list.  One of my poems I posted there was a conglomeration of Greg’s lyrics from various songs at the time.  To my amazement, it was added to Greg’s website.  Here it is:

A Greg High

another seattle wrist slitting day

cloud coming down for 66 and 44 more

until greg comes here in may

can't get enough of your music Mr. Brown

love your lyrics, your music, your incredible sound

impossible to appreciate it in the background

words about real life

how bad it can be and how nice

argue about who is the bigger fan

me or my wife

kids want to go to kansas now you know

just to listen to that late night radio

about twice a year, it's clear here

gaze at the stars near the equator of Heaven

think about my grandparents, wish i was still eleven

you might wonder what goes on this fella's head

still got that loaf of bread

the bottle of wine went and the $50,000 is all spent

maybe i hung around a little too long in my hippie tent

don't turn on the tv or radio news

push in my cd and listen to you

then i can fly away if i want to

i get the good blues

just listening to "think about you"

all the money's going, going, gone

gotta listen to another song

i never would have thunk it

be online in a Greg Brown junket

this bozo's in love again

playing non-stop "Further In".

had lotsa kind of money 'til christmas came around

i just want to be in the dark with you in our little town

sitting outside smoking my cigs

i do this and that and this for my kids

dream on, little dreamers

ok, just one more good night kiss

i guess the wild geese go

with that little man in a boat

or followed john muir in his overcoat

sometimes feel my whole life is one wrong turn

i don't know who i think i'm foolin'

oh man what am i trying to say

it's kind of like "have a nice day"

i don't want to hear "happy holiday"

alright already, I admit

i'm a happy, happy, happy addict.

yes, you're right, I am sick

a hopeless Gregoholic.

like that fish in the mucked up lovely river

i am hooked.

you can read about it my new book

i'm on a greg high aren't i?

i don't know that guy

thank you and goodbye

              

               Without medication, I still get high when I attend a Greg show.  I admit I turn into a different person.  At the local shows, I started dragging friends and family to them.  Like an over-exuberant movie review, they were unable to capture the profoundness of the experience that I felt each time.  Some would question his ability to enunciate at times, yet I have never had that problem since I knew almost every verse he sang.  I stopped leading the horse to water knowing when I went to a show there would be others almost as thirsty as me.

               On his next northwest tour, I rounded up the family and we travelled to Portland, Oregon.  The Clinton Street Theater was as funky as its neighborhood.  Yanking small children out of a motel pool when it’s 80 degrees in May is a complex task.  Much dismayed, we were second in line that night.  Standing in line hours before the doors opened, we conversed with the couple in front of us who were from Seattle too and we have been close friends ever since.  Many of my future adventures will be with them.  I believe we beat them to the front of the line the next night in Seattle.  My community, created by Greg’s music, continued to grow.  Even the promoter at the time in Portland got to know me.  I have seen Greg perform more in Oregon than my own state.  Some fans have followed Greg to Europe, my experiences are limited to the Pacific northwest.  One year he came to Seattle when I was in Germany on business.  Because of it, even my wife has been to one more show than me.              

I have chosen to resist using fan names throughout this story to protect the ones who prefer their privacy.  Some are dear friends I have yet to meet, others who now know to expect a big hug each time we reconnect.  Although I would love to acknowledge them all by name, some are simply shy, humble heroes in my eyes.  Since it is unclear who might like to be recognized by name and those that prefer their privacy, it is easier to omit all names.  If you read this friends, you’ll know who you are.

My first road trip was a huge success and I was now infected to do more.  With twenty years of recorded music in his repertoire by now, he had a different setlist every night.  Depending on the venue, the crowd and his mood, he turned into a jukebox gone mad with renditions of songs that were completely altered from his recordings.  This guy can ad-lib and tell stories like no other.  It was time to get serious the next time he came around.