“Two Old Maids Lying in Bed, One Rolled Over And The Other Was Dead.”

A bit of blues, a slap of gospel, and a parade of classics. Willie Nelson was set to go on at 9:05pm, I arrived at 8:20pm, and at 8:22 he walked to the center of stage to join with nine-time Grammy Award winners Asleep With The Wheel, while asking, “How about a little Willie with the Wheel?” The plaid flannel crowd—plaid flannel because it’s warm and it’s what cowpeople wear—went wild. Whistling, clapping, stomping boots and heels. Instrument solo after instrument solo, each band member seemed to be featuring the next member as the melodies slipped swang and jumped from guitars, fiddles, drums, saxaphones and a steel guitar.—By the way, the steel guitar mesmerizes me, the noises it creates are beautiful, like a warped elevator soundtrack. And Wille, in the flesh, ancient of days, wrinkled, sexy, with a black leather hat (that he later threw into the crowd and replaced with his infamous red headband) and long grey braids, was like a precious antique sculpture that came alive, his fingers dancing on the strings of his guitar like a water bug on glass, tree branches in a storm. His sister played the piano, his son played the electric guitar. He talked, sang, merged talking and singing, about everything from spending all his money on alcohol and feeding his horses beer, to the hesitation blues. When he sang “On The Road Again” I was transported back to my childhood, singing that with my family in a wood paneled station wagon I’m not sure we ever actually had. Some of the show made the crowd want to dance around in hay, and some of it made us want to get frisky between dusty wool blankets. The Willie Nelson (and family) performance was a whiskey sippin tumble weed moonshine magical good ole time.

—Beth McNamara